by Ryan Casey
Surviving Sundown
Into the Dark Post-Apocalyptic EMP Thriller: Book Two
Ryan Casey
Contents
Bonus Content
Surviving Sundown
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
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Surviving Sundown
Into the Dark: Book Two
Chapter One
The Day Of…
When Eleanor White rushed into work that day, she had no idea she was never going to leave again.
It was a sunny summer’s day. These sunny spells had been few and far between in Britain for the last few years. Usually got the occasional nice day here and there, and that was it. A few days of sun then back to the rainy, grey normality people were so used to and so sick of.
That said, they were in the midst of what Eleanor called a “real summer” right now. Naturally, she didn’t enjoy it as much when she was working. The office was sweltering hot. The air con was apparently working fine, but she wasn’t stupid. The company she worked for, Wisdom’s Construction, were scrimping when it came to keeping those in the office well catered for. Even the construction teams they had on site weren’t getting the kind of money or love they used to get.
But everything was going to change for Eleanor today.
Everything was going to change because she was on the verge of being promoted.
She’d heard rumours of her promotion a few days back. Keith, her boss, had told her there was a post as senior team leader becoming available with her colleague Connie leaving, and that they weren’t even going to be running interviews because they already had someone lined up.
Eleanor saw how Keith had smiled and right then, at that moment, her suspicion began to grow.
Today was the day. She’d got a message from Keith when she woke up. “Come in for 8 today. Surprise for you.”
It helped that Keith fancied her a little, of course. Which gave his message a slightly creepy undertone. But hey. We had to do what we had to do to get by in this world, right?
She’d rushed up an hour earlier and thrown herself into her car without even doing her makeup. She knew what Keith’s message was about. She was certain of it now. Initial suspicion had grown into full-blown certainty.
So her only priority was getting to work on time and getting her job in the bag.
The first sign that today wasn’t going to be an ordinary day was the state of the motorway exit she was supposed to be turning off at.
Cars were stuck, totally static for miles. There’d been some kind of accident up ahead. Eleanor found herself cursing, burning up as she sat there in the driver’s seat, windows open and air con at full blast regardless of all the things she’d heard about that being a less than ideal solution. She dabbed her clammy head with a cool water bottle, but even that didn’t seem to be doing much good.
As she sat there, waiting for the traffic to move, she thought about messaging Keith. Because she was going to be late, no doubt about that.
But then she found her thoughts wandering to the last time she’d been stuck in a traffic jam like this. The day her mum died. The rush to get to her when she’d called, to make sure she was okay. The lack of signal, making calling an ambulance impossible—even though the emergency services were supposed to be available without any network reception.
That sense of dread when she’d finally reached her house… and when she’d found her lying there, right by the front door, hand outstretched, phone on the floor.
She’d never forgiven herself for that. She’d never forgive herself for that.
She heard a honk behind her, which startled her back into the present moment.
The traffic ahead was moving again. Creeping, not exactly moving fast, but moving all the same.
Relief filled Eleanor’s body as she accelerated, keeping with the steady flow of traffic. Today wasn’t going to be like that day two years ago. Today was going to be different. She was going to get to work on time. She was going to find out all about her promotion. And she was going to boss this office, putting down her stamp very firmly onto it.
She turned into the car park ten minutes ahead of time. Remarkable really, considering how much traffic she’d been stuck in. As she walked, she thought she saw something curious above. A strange hue to the sky, that was the only way she could describe it. Like a greenish tinge.
And she saw a couple of other things up the road, too. Movement. Vehicles. They looked military.
She didn’t think much else of it as she stepped inside the work’s building and made her way over to the lift.
She pushed the button and waited. Wisdom’s Construction’s offices were on the third floor. She knew she should start taking the stairs. She was getting a little chubby around the ankles, and all kinds of fitness gurus claimed that climbing the stairs was the first step to glory.
But right now, as she stood in the corridor adjusting her hair, she didn’t want to get herself any more sweaty, any more worked up. She’d rushed out in the first place. She should’ve taken some of that time in her car to apply a little make-up. Wasn’t like she’d been lacking time or anything.
The lift doors pinged open. Eleanor stepped inside, hit “3”, then waited as the doors came to a halt and the lift sparked to life. She added a little lipstick. Nothing too garish, just enough to add a spark of charm to her. She was a good-looking woman; she knew that. Bright blue eyes, which contrasted well with a darker shade of lipstick. She knew her strengths, and she played to them.
The lift stopped. And when it did, there was a pause. A moment where the lift door didn’t open at all.
Eleanor hit the open switch. Waited for the doors to oblige.
Nothing.
A little tension built up in Eleanor’s chest. A memory of a time she’d been stuck in a lift in one of those underground cave experiences years ago. She’d waited there two hours before someone came and helped her out. They were the longest two hours of her life.
She tried the open button again. And she started to wonder
whether this could be serious. Whether maybe, just maybe, there’d been some major fault—and just what repercussions it was going to have on the rest of her day.
Her heart began to race. Her body started to grow clammy. Anxiety crept in like it was being injected into her veins.
She was beginning to lose her cool completely when the door pinged and opened, revealing the third-floor offices to her.
She stepped inside, relieved that she’d made it.
“Hey, Eleanor,” Martin said. He was a short, squat man with a mod haircut. Spent the bulk of his life working at this place—and he’d been alive far longer than he was trying to suggest with that haircut. “Ready for the big surprise?”
Eleanor stumbled a bit as she went to sit down. She frowned. How did Martin know? Was he in on it too? “Big surprise?”
Martin’s smile widened. “You didn’t get a message from Keith? You’re in a bloody minority then.”
The tension that’d stirred up in the lift ignited in Eleanor once again. If everyone in the office had got a message from Keith about a surprise, then what was this? Was announcing her promotion really something to make such a group text fuss about?
She heard footsteps. A throat being cleared.
When she turned and saw Keith standing there, smile on his face, she knew it was time to find out.
Keith was tall, bald and overweight. She could smell his sweat from here. He was really the epitome of unattractiveness. But he seemed to think the pair of them had some kind of rapport.
But then… this group message. What was it about?
“So I’m sure you’re all keen to know about the big surprise,” Keith said.
“Too right,” Martin said.
Eleanor muttered something unkind under her breath.
Keith rubbed his hands together. “Well… I’ve booked the Go Ape activity track for our summer fun day again!”
Whooping around the office. Cheers. Claps.
But all Eleanor could do was sit there and stare.
Totally silent.
Totally emotionless.
This couldn’t be it. He had to be screwing with her.
“Oh,” Keith said, looking directly at Eleanor now. “And one more thing.”
This was it. Here it came…
“Connie’s not leaving after all. She’s staying on as team leader. Three cheers to continuity, huh?”
A more muted reaction to this news.
But none more muted than Eleanor’s reaction.
She watched as Keith turned away. Looked over at Connie’s vacant desk and felt a burning inside.
When she looked around, she saw Martin holding a monkey mask over the top half of his face, smirk wide.
She hadn’t wanted to punch anyone more than she did right now.
After the longest day ever came to a close, Eleanor looked back at the office. It’d been a hard one to take. She felt exhausted, in all truth. She’d been so convinced that her promotion day was here. How wrong had she been? Just how badly had she interpreted the signals?
She staved off the tears, swallowed a lump in her throat, nodding to the cleaner on her way out. She was just eager to get back home, to have a couple of glasses of wine and put this whole sorry mess behind her.
She stepped inside the lift, pushed the “ground floor” button and watched as the doors slammed shut.
When the lift reached the ground floor, the doors didn’t open.
She tried the button again.
It didn’t work.
And again.
It still didn’t work.
She put her head in her hands and sighed.
It looked like she might be here for a while again.
One of those days.
One of those goddamned days.
Three days later, Eleanor pressed the button to open the lift door with her shaky finger.
Nothing happened.
She let out a breath, gasped through cracked lips, and then her weakened body went still.
This time, she knew she wasn’t getting out.
Chapter Two
Day Five…
Mike looked at the village store in the distance, and he hoped that he was the first to come across it.
It was early morning. The birds were singing at full song. They didn’t have a clue anything was different in this world. They didn’t know what had changed. All they knew was that the world was a lot quieter. A lot more silent.
It was back to how it used to be many years ago. Back before cars, before electricity, before technology. Back before humans made a muddy footprint of the natural world.
Back to quiet.
The sun beamed down on the back of Mike’s neck. He’d remembered to put some cream on, something a lot of people wouldn’t have anywhere near the top of their list of priorities right now. Avoiding sunstroke was important. Avoiding any kind of illness or sickness was important.
It was five days into the new world, after all, and things didn’t seem like they were changing.
At least, not for the better.
He looked down at the knife in his hand. A Becker BK2. He’d been home a couple of days ago, after the chaos began, and dug out some extra supplies he’d overlooked the first time he’d been back. After all, he’d been pretty focused on finding his daughter the last time he’d been there.
He felt guilty for holding the knife. After all, the owner of this shop was no doubt a decent person. He was looking after his property and his supplies, just defending himself and what was his.
But that was the problem. This wasn’t a world where “good” people survived. This wasn’t a world where the old morals and ethics reigned supreme anymore.
This was a world where those willing to do the dirty things made it. A world where those willing to take thrived.
There was a fine line between just surviving and outright Darwinian survival of the fittest. Mike was doing his best to make sure he didn’t descend into the abyss of power and control anytime soon.
He looked over his shoulder. His daughter and the rest of his people were back at the camp they’d set up. He’d come out extra early to get this done, hoping that he could take the shop by surprise. He had three things, the most important things—an empty bag, a crowbar, and his knife.
And he’d use them. He couldn’t be cowardly about that. He couldn’t back away from the perils of duty.
He’d do whatever he had to do to survive.
To keep those he cared about alive.
He looked left and right. The village looked quiet. That was how it was always going to go, really. The cities were the places that destroyed themselves. The smaller towns… well, some pandemonium would erupt, but they’d do a better job of keeping their shit together, for a little while longer at least.
But the villages, they weren’t as reliant on technology. They didn’t need social media and online deliveries to make it.
They had each other.
Mike was going to exploit that for all it was worth.
He had no choice but to.
Seeing his route was clear, Mike made his way down the side of the hill, towards the shop. The further he got, the more his tension grew, and the more his uncertainty built up. There could be someone already in the shop, watching, waiting for him to fall into their trap.
He had to be ready to defend himself.
He had to be ready to fight.
When he got closer to the store, he realised something that he’d been blind to when he’d stood up the hill—even though he had used binoculars. The shutter at the side of the shop. It was only partly down. There was a gap. A chance to shove his crowbar in and lift it up.
That’s what he had to do.
He made his way towards the shop. Stuck his crowbar into the gap, checking once again to make sure he was definitely all clear.
And then when he was certain, he yanked up the crowbar and lifted the metal shutters.
He checked inside. All dark. All clear.
A
nd then he pulled himself underneath and landed inside the store.
The store had a creepy air to it, which he didn’t like one bit. The shelves were mostly still stocked, which was something to marvel at five days after the EMP. Most places would be ransacked by now, supermarkets in particular. But even the smaller places would be mostly emptied by now.
Whoever was defending this place was doing a good job.
Which meant he had to be quick.
He rushed his way through the shelves. He grabbed all sorts of food items he knew would be advantageous in this world of survival on the road. Peanut butter, crackers, packets of pistachios and cashews. Boxes of nutritional cereal, tins of tuna, and packets of dried fruit. They were simple things, sure. But they were the kind of things that were going to take them a long way.
Sure, he was making the transition to hunting already. He had to, after all. He knew a few traps and tricks. A few variations of snare traps, which admittedly were harder to set up in practice than they were on paper.
But even hunting wasn’t a long-term solution. Hunting is of course a viable option, and way more viable than relying on supermarket and shop shelves—as well as the kitchens and pantries of empty homes. But of those people who didn’t die of starvation in the early days, the rest of the survivors would turn to hunting, leaving the population of animals like deer totally decimated in no time.
