The Last Fight: A Post Apocalyptic EMP Thriller (Surviving the EMP Book 3)

by Ryan Casey

  “Then what happened to your son happened in conflict. He was fair game.”

  Hazel sparked to life at that. She tried to lunge towards Logan, Bella struggling to hold her back. “You bastard!”

  “Hazel,” Jack said.

  She wasn’t listening. She was focused. Transfixed by hate.

  And Jack knew damn well she blamed him just as much as she blamed Logan. So he wasn’t exactly the person she wanted to hear from right now.

  But he had to try.

  He walked towards her. Reached her side. Logan watching with that rifle raised at all times.

  “Hazel,” Jack said.

  She turned to him. Hatred in her eyes. “Don’t talk to me—”

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m sorry for Wayne. I’m sorry for everything. But I’m… I’m going to make things right for you. I’m going to make things right.”

  He put a hand on her shoulder. Expected her to push it away.

  She didn’t. She let him keep it there.

  “Wayne made me promise I’d do everything I could for you,” he said. “I’m going to keep that promise.”

  He leaned in. Kissed her head.

  He handed her the rifle.

  And then he turned away and he walked over to Logan.

  Logan watched him approach, that rifle raised. The smile on his face flickered. Jack could see the tiredness in his eyes. He could see the exhaustion.

  The blood dripping down his front from that wound in his chest.

  He stopped right before him. Looked right into his eyes.

  “I’ll never forgive you for what you’ve done,” Jack said. “I want to kill you. Right now. But… but I’m going to give you a chance. One more chance. Walk away. Leave us. Because there’s no good to come from this, Logan. There’s no happy ending. It’s the only choice.”

  Logan’s eyes narrowed. His rifle was fixed on Jack’s stomach. “And what makes you think you’re in a position to be making commands like that?”

  Jack took a deep breath. “I’m not. Which is exactly why you should listen to me.”

  He raised his hands.

  “I don’t have a weapon pointed at you. I don’t have anything. All I have is my words. Walk away. Go. Leave us. Start… start again somewhere else. Just don’t let this get any more violent than it has to. Please.”

  Logan was still for a moment. He studied Jack’s face, like he was looking for a crack in his expression; some kind of proof he was bluffing.

  Then he took a deep breath and sighed.

  “See, I appreciate your words. Really, I do. But let’s face it. If it was you standing here, pointing a rifle at me, I’d be a dead man right now. Right?”

  Jack nodded. “Yeah. Yeah you would. But you’re a dead man anyway unless you get that wound seen to. So you’d better start walking.”

  Silence between them. Nothing but the birds singing in the trees. The wind brushing against the leaves.

  And Jack’s heartbeat pounding in his ears.

  “Walk away,” Jack said. “Walk away from all of this. There doesn’t have to be any more violence. There doesn’t have to be any more death.”

  Logan’s face twitched. The rifle raised and lowered. He looked caught. Caught between the idea of who he wanted to be and who he was.

  “Walk away, Logan. Walk away.”

  Logan looked down at his rifle.

  He sighed.

  “You know, I really wish I could,” he said.

  He looked back up at Jack.

  “But like you said. I’m a dead man anyway. What harm is there in evening the stakes?”

  It happened in slow motion

  The shout from somewhere behind.

  Logan lifting that rifle.

  Jack ducking, right on—

  Jack heard it before he felt it.

  A blast. Deafening. An explosion right in front of him.

  Then he felt the dizziness.

  The confusion.

  The muffled screams behind him.

  The focused look in Logan’s eyes.

  And then the pain.

  He looked down at his shoulder.

  He was bleeding.

  He was shot.

  Logan put a hand on Jack’s bleeding shoulder.

  Smiled.

  “Now, we’re even,” he said.

  Chapter Fifty

  Jack felt the pain split through his shoulder and he knew his time was running out.

  He heard muffled cries. Heard more gunfire as Logan fired indiscriminately over Jack’s shoulder at Hazel and Candice and Bella, stopping them progressing. He saw Hazel holding that rifle, struggling to fire back because of Jack’s position.

  Jack heard all this chaos unfolding around him, turned and watched them running off into the woods, seeking shelter.

  And then he looked around and he saw Logan standing there, that rifle still in hand.

  “This is what happens when you try to make the decisions for other people, Jack,” he said. “This is what happens when you betray people. When you show you can’t trust people, again and again.”

  Jack shook his head. “Don’t put this on me.”

  “But it is on you,” Logan said. “A gunshot wound for a gunshot wound. Your side the first to fire, once again. That’s how it should be. The two of us, we’re the ones who the problem is between. You said it yourself, didn’t you? So this is right. This is how it should be.”

  Jack stumbled to his knees. The pain was intense. He couldn’t hear anyone behind him. He wasn’t sure where his people had gone. He could only assume Logan’s gunshots were trying to scare them off, because he kept on lifting his rifle every now and then and firing blindly into the woods.

  “I tried to change,” Logan said, his voice shaky, his bleeding growing worse and his skin paler. “Every single day of my life, I tried to be better. But I guess it’s always been a part of me, this… this beast. It was there when my dad died. It was there when I went to David Hayson’s house and murdered him. And it was there when I murdered his family, too.”

  He looked away. Tears were building.

  “I don’t like what I did,” Logan said. “I’m not proud of it. But… but it felt right. That’s always been the hardest thing for me to accept. Just how right it felt. Watching that man’s pain as his family died around him. And then taking him out. Because that’s the order it happened in. Not the way I told myself. Not the way I told others. People say revenge is never satiated. That it never goes away. That’s not true, Jack. It’s not true.”

  He lifted his rifle again, fired off into the distance.

  Jack could only crouch there and hold his shoulder as more blood seeped between his fingers.

  “So I fought it,” Logan said. “I spent all that time in prison telling myself that when I got out, I was going to be better. And I got out. I got out and I met Emma and I tried. For her, I tried. But then we found your place. And then… well. You reminded me. Reminded me of how it feels to have someone you hate. Someone who is willing to take everything from you. Because don’t lie, Jack. You would’ve. You’d have shot Emma if you thought it might get me out of the picture. You’ve as good as said it yourself. And that’s why I can’t trust you. Because as long as you’re around, you’re a reminder that I can’t grow. I can’t change. I can’t be better. And I just can’t accept that.”

  Jack took a few breaths, tried to steady his composure. He could hear these words from Logan and above anything, he felt sorry for him. It was a strange way to feel about the guy who had killed his son; the guy who had taken so much.

  But he pitied him.

  Because he really was broken.

  The world had broken him.

  And this was the final crack.

  “You’re right,” Jack said.

  Logan narrowed his eyes. “What was that?”

  “About Emma,” Jack said. “I would’ve… I would’ve done anything if I thought it might keep my family safe.”

  Logan’s smile wi
dened. “Then you see how it is.”

  “I do,” Jack said. “But… but I see how wrong I was. I see how much trouble not trusting others has caused. How much death not letting others in has sparked. And I’ve learned from that. I’ve… I’ve learned from that. Can you say the same? Can you look me in the eye and say you’ve learned from it, too?”

  Logan’s gaze faltered, just a little. “I don’t get what your point is.”

  “My point is I’ve recognised my flaws,” Jack said. “I’ve seen where I’ve gone wrong. I’ve seen how I have to change. That I need to start trusting people. Letting people in. I saw that long before you shot me. And I… I still think we can move forward. I still think we can be better. As much as I despise you. As much as I want to taste that revenge you spoke about. It’s not the way forward. This isn’t the way forward.”

  Logan was still for a few moments. He hesitated, just for a short time.

  And then he did something Jack wasn’t expecting.

  He cried.

  “Everything that has happened,” he said. “All that has gone down between us. Between our people. And you’re still willing to move forward. You’re still desperate for us to move on. You really believe it. Don’t you?”

  Jack saw this symbol of hate he’d stood against. He saw this murderer. This evil force who he’d hated before he’d even met him. Logan the Butcher.

  He saw him and he took a deep breath and nodded. “Yes.”

  Logan half-smiled. Tilted his head.

  And then he stood.

  Lifted the rifle.

  Pointed it to Jack’s head.

  “I’m sorry, Jack,” he said. “I respect that. Really, I do. But we’re both going to die today. There’s no way out of this. Not for either of us.”

  He felt the rifle resting on his forehead, felt the gunshot wound throbbing with pain.

  And in his right hand, he reached for the knife that Hazel had passed him when he’d handed her the rifle.

  The knife that Logan hadn’t seen.

  The backup plan. Just in case.

  “I’m sorry you think that,” Jack said. “I’m sorry it’s come to this. I wanted things to be different. I wanted things to be better. But I need you to remember something.”

  Logan tilted his head. “Remember what?”

  Jack tightened his grip around the knife. “Everyone is someone else’s villain.”

  Logan frowned. “What—”

  Jack heard the blast from the right. He saw Logan tumble to one side, blood spurting from his left arm.

  And he didn’t even hesitate.

  He jumped up with the little strength in his body and he buried that knife into Logan’s neck.

  Logan’s eyes widened. He looked up, baffled, surprised. Blood pooled from his throat. Terror and confusion filled his wide eyes.

  When he saw who was by his side, who had knocked him to the ground, his despair rose.

  Emma was standing there.

  She was crouching by his side as Jack held that knife deep into his neck.

  She was crying.

  Holding Jack’s rifle in hand.

  “It didn’t have to be like this,” she said. “It—it could’ve been different. I saw what you could be. I saw you weren’t always a monster. I saw… I saw you could be better.”

  He opened his mouth to say something, but blood just pooled out.

  He reached out with a shaky hand, like he was trying to grab his rifle, but then he did something else.

  He took Emma’s hand.

  And he looked at her with tears in his eyes and he smiled.

  “Stay… stay safe,” he said. “Stay—stay good. Stay good.”

  He went to say something else, but his words caught in his throat.

  Blood pooled down his chin.

  But as he lay there, holding on to Emma’s hand, he looked up at Jack, and a shaky smile appeared on his face.

  “You were right,” he spluttered.

  Jack held the knife there as Logan’s struggles eased. “About what?”

  Logan coughed up more blood. Spat it out. Tightened his grip on Emma’s hand. “About—about trust,” he said.

  He looked at Jack, and he did something else Jack wasn’t expecting.

  He put a shaky hand on his side.

  “I’m sorry about Wayne,” he said. “I’m sorry about… about…”

  He spluttered once more.

  But this time, he didn’t speak again.

  He closed his eyes.

  His head tumbled back onto the ground.

  His struggles gave way completely.

  Jack looked at Emma as she sat crying beside Logan, still holding on to his hand.

  He pulled the knife out of his neck.

  And then he lay back on the ground, his head spinning, the pain in his shoulder building.

  He lay there and he thought of what Logan had said.

  “You were right about trust.”

  And he knew right then exactly what he was talking about.

  He put a hand on his bleeding shoulder and he smiled.

  And as his senses drifted, as the light above began to fade even more, he swore he felt a dog emerge by his side, and tuck his head under his arm…

  Chapter Fifty-One

  Six days later…

  Emma watched the sun rise and she knew today was the day everything changed all over again.

  It had been sunny ever since the day things changed for the last time. The day where Jack and Logan stood together. The day where Logan fell.

  The day she’d held his hand and felt the life disappear from his body.

  She couldn’t stop thinking about that day. About the way Logan had looked up into her eyes. And the way he’d begged for forgiveness, as blood spurted from his lips. The image woke her up in her sleep. It was interspersed with images of Logan murdering a family. Logan shooting Wayne in cold blood.

  Logan the Butcher.

  And she’d grappled with her thoughts about Logan a lot over the last few days. Part of her felt betrayed. Part of her couldn’t believe he’d done the things he’d done. Part of her didn’t want to.

  But as she sat here on the porch of the farm and looked out over the fields, over towards the trees where she knew his body lay, she could only remember one thing.

  What happened to Logan was a lesson.

  A lesson in what happened when people didn’t trust each other.

  A lesson of just how bad things could get when communication fell apart.

  That couldn’t happen again.

  She heard footsteps behind her and turned around.

  Candice was walking towards her.

  She sat by her side. Didn’t say anything, not at first. Just looked out at the beautiful sunrise beside her.

  “Struggling sleeping?” she finally asked.

  Emma nodded. “Got a few hours. Should be enough.”

  “It’s the dreams, isn’t it?”

  Emma looked at her. “What?”

  “The dreams,” Candice said, twirling her hair, staring blankly into the distance. “In the day, we can kid ourselves. We can tell ourselves they’re just memories. But in our sleep… in our dreams… it’s real again. It’s like we’re there again. Right?”

  She looked back at Emma and half-smiled, a defeated expression to her face.

  And Emma nodded back. She knew exactly what she meant. Exactly what she was talking about.

  “It’s a shame we have to leave this place,” Candice said.

  Emma looked around at the farm. She’d liked staying here. They’d come back here when Jack had been shot. Rushed down here, begged Yuri for help.

  And it was her who had spoken to Yuri.

  It was her who had begged for his help. For his mercy.

  And against all odds, he had agreed.

  They’d gone out into the woods to the scene of the conflict, a few of them. They’d taken Jack back down to the farm. They’d let him in—let all of them in.

  And her
e they still were, six days later.

  Except it wasn’t their home anymore.

  Time was running out.

  “It’s what we agreed,” Emma said. “For the best. A fresh start.”

  Candice nodded, but she didn’t seem too sure.

  They’d agreed with Yuri’s people that they’d do a deal. They could keep this place. They could keep everything in it. Just as long as they saw to Jack. Just as long as they gave him whatever medical attention they could.

  And then gave them the time to make plans for their next step.

  And Yuri’s people had been welcoming. They’d been accommodating. The two men who had turned Jack away earlier had been chastised by Yuri. Because as much as he didn’t like Jack, he was a man who did deals. And he stood by his word; stuck to his deals.

  But there was another deal they’d made. They’d agreed to that deal, and that was part of the problem.

  The time for them to leave was approaching.

  Emma knew it was nothing personal. There was no fixed home anymore. She saw that clearly now. It was always about who was the strongest at any given time.

  And they would be stronger from this.

  They had to be.

  She heard another pair of footsteps and saw someone else emerging.

  She smiled when she saw him. Even if she still wasn’t sure how to feel about him, not truly.

  But she saw the others with him.

  Hazel.

  Bella.

  Mrs Fuzzles.

  And Villain.

  And she knew that regardless of how she felt, seeing these people together, united… that was most important.

  Jack walked to the middle of the group. He had lost a lot of weight over the last week. There was a bandage tied around his shoulder. The wound had been disinfected and stitched as well as it could. The damage couldn’t be assessed without adequate equipment, but he was still standing, and wasn’t that the most important thing?

  He stood there in the middle of the group. He looked at each of them. Nobody spoke, not for a while.

  But it was Jack who eventually broke the silence.

  “All up early. Surely can’t be that raring to go.”

  A few laughs around, but not many. There wasn’t a lot that could be laughed about. Hazel had suffered these last few days. She was pale. Thinning. She didn’t say much.