by Ryan Casey
Fight for Survival
Ryan Casey
Higher Bank Books
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Contents
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
Chapter 48
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Chapter One
Mike looked at Calvin’s camp, and he knew it was finally time.
The afternoon sun was high in the sky. There wasn’t a cloud in sight. There was a humidity to the air; a mugginess that reminded him of summer afternoons before the world went to shit. Mostly those afternoons after Caitlin died, after he lost his job. The long days in the garden, no work to go to, no purpose in mind. Beer bottles in hand, judgemental neighbour glancing over the fence every five minutes, desperate to say something.
How radically a matter of months could change things.
How radically a matter of months could turn life on its head—time after time.
Calvin’s camp wasn’t what it used to be. The junkyard he’d been staying near had long ago been abandoned. Somebody had attacked it. Somebody who Calvin had initially insisted must’ve been Mike; must’ve been his people.
But Calvin had made a mistake there. Because Mike wouldn’t have let Calvin or his people live if he’d attacked his home.
Not after Calvin left the Safe Zone on its knees.
Not after he kidnapped Kelsie.
Not after he killed Sofia.
And not after…
His throat wobbled when the memory came to his mind. There was still a lack of reality to it. Still a lack of acceptance on his part.
Two weeks might’ve passed since it happened, but it still didn’t seem like it was real. It still didn’t seem like it was possible.
But he had to look it in the eye.
He had to face up to reality.
Holly.
She was gone.
And Calvin had killed her.
And it didn’t matter what else he’d tried to do. It didn’t matter how much he begged when Mike finally got the opportunity to stand over him, to look him in his weaselly little eyes.
None of it mattered.
Just that he got his revenge.
Just that Calvin got exactly what he deserved.
He tightened his fists as he looked down at this new camp, and he replayed his plan around his mind, again and again.
They were staying in a caravan site. An old caravan site by a river. Most of the caravans were the trailer type. Some of them had toppled over, others had been smashed up and sprayed with graffiti. Just another reminder of the lawlessness of this new reality. A new reality that wasn’t even so new anymore after all.
It hadn’t taken him long to trace them to this spot. They weren’t exactly doing the best job of staying under the radar.
Calvin’s “group” wasn’t what it used to be. He’d been watching them for a while now. Right now, they were all inside the caravans. That said it all, really: they could all fit inside two caravans. How the mighty could fall. Mike didn’t know what had happened, but he could only assume that his people had seen the error of their ways. They’d seen Calvin for the monster he was.
And those who were still here?
Those who had stuck around?
It didn’t matter what happened to them.
The fact that they were still here, after everything, told Mike everything he needed to know about them.
“Are you sure we shouldn’t wait a little longer?”
Mike looked to his left. He’d been so focused on the fact that he was finally staring at Calvin’s home—and that the day he was finally going to get his revenge had arrived—that he’d almost forgotten he wasn’t alone.
Beth was one of their new group members. The other was Hailie, who unfortunately hadn’t made it long after her escape from Calvin’s people. Died suddenly. Tragic, especially as she seemed like a truly decent person.
Beth had thin black hair, bright green eyes, and pale skin. She was pretty, in an understated way, and had a southern accent that still seemed unfamiliar all this way up north.
She’d been through hell at the hands of Calvin. And so she was here with him, scouting out Calvin’s place.
He shrugged. Turned back to face the camp. “We can wait around forever. We can deliberate forever. The fact stands. He’s down there. He’s not as strong as he used to be. He’s not well-guarded. We’ve got him right where we want him.”
Mike went to take a step over the hill, to head down towards Calvin’s camp. There was nobody around right now that he could see. But he could just go down there and wait. Wait for the perfect moment. The perfect opportunity…
He had a Becker BK2 in hand. His trusty knife of choice. He was looking forward to ramming it into Calvin’s neck, slowly. He was looking forward to staring into his eyes as he realised his time was up.
He was looking forward to denying Calvin what he’d denied his daughter.
Ending his life.
There was nothing that could make him feel better.
Mike felt a hand on his arm as he went to walk.
“Shouldn’t we wait for the others?” Beth said, concern to her voice. “Shouldn’t we wait until we have company? Like, more numbers? We don’t want to rush anything. We don’t want to make it any harder for ourselves than it has to be.”
Mike heard logic to Beth’s words. She was a logical person. Cautious, but realistic.
And to be honest, despite those embers of revenge burning inside him, despite that desire for vengeance taking a hold of him… he heard what Beth was saying, and he felt himself agreeing with her.
He went to take a step back when he saw him.
He was thinner than he remembered him. And yet it had only been two weeks, so it must’ve been his mind playing tricks on him. After all, he’d thought of him a lot lately. He’d thought about the way he’d go up to him when he saw him. The way he’d lift that knife. The many places of his body he could pierce, in hope that he’d survive every single blow, feeling the pain upon contact.
And now he was here.
Now he was at the bottom of this hill, a matter of metres away from him.
Calvin.
He felt his hand tighten around the knife, almost instinctively.
Beth looked at him, fear in her wide eyes. “Mike…”
But it was too late.
He saw Holly in his mind.
He saw the way Calvin had stood there, blade to her neck.
He saw the way the rest of his people and the women he’d put through so much had perched at the end of that cliff.
He saw the way he’d killed her without mercy, and then how he’d got away.
Mike saw all of this, and there was nothing he could do to contain himself.
There was nothing he could do to stop himself.
He knew he could try and hold back. He knew he could use the methods he’d learned to show restraint; to show resistance. He knew there were so many ways of going about this. Stealthier ways. More skilful ways. More patient ways.
But he didn’t want to.
It really was as simple as that.
He wanted to kill Calvin.
He wanted to follow his base instincts.
He wanted to get his revenge.
He was halfway down the hill when Calvin turned around.
He looked at him, first without recognition.
But then the blood drained from his face.
His eyes widened, cigarette between his lips.
He turned around, and he ran inside his caravan.
“No!” Mike shouted.
He pelted down the hill. Kept on going, feet sticking in the mud.
Behind, he could hear Beth shouting out, telling him to hold back, telling him to stop.
But he couldn’t stop.
He just had to keep on going.
He just had to…
The door to the caravan opened.
Calvin was standing there.
Crossbow in hand.
“Turn away, Mike,” he said.
Mike stopped. For the first time in this entire exchange, he stopped. Calvin’s people—just four of them—were beside him. They were holding knives, bats, all kinds of improvised weapons.
This wasn’t a good situation for Mike.
Calvin looked into Mike’s eyes. He had bags under his. It looked like he hadn’t had much sleep lately.
“Turn away,” Calvin said. “One final chance. Or it’s over for both of you. You don’t have to die here. You can turn away, and you can keep on going. Or…”
He didn’t say anything else. But Mike sensed something different about how Calvin was speaking. Because it didn’t make sense. He was standing there with a crossbow at point blank range. He had an opportunity to kill him, and yet he hadn’t.
Why?
Why?
“You’ll pay,” Mike said. “Maybe not today… but I’ll be back here. I’ll be back here, and you’ll pay for what you’ve done.”
Calvin looked to Mike’s side. He looked at Beth. Then he looked back at his people, then back at Mike.
“That probably wasn’t the best thing to say,” Calvin said.
Calvin turned the crossbow, and he fired it at Beth.
Mike didn’t see what happened properly. Not at first.
Not until he heard Beth gasping beside him.
He looked around. Saw Beth holding her face.
There was an arrow sticking out of her throat.
She looked at him with fear. With regret.
But with something else, too.
With disappointment.
“I told… I told us to wait,” she said, as she staggered from side to side, eyes losing their focus, their lucidity.
“Beth, I—”
“I told us to wait and now…”
She fell to the ground.
The arrow buried itself deeper into her throat.
And when Mike turned around, he saw Calvin was pointing the crossbow at him.
“Now, you run,” he said.
Mike wanted to stay. He wanted to fight. He wanted to kill Calvin right here—or die trying.
But no.
That’s not what he wanted.
That’s not how it was going to go.
He wasn’t going to die.
He wasn’t going to let Calvin kill him.
Not after everything.
So he looked at Beth’s body.
“I’m sorry.”
Then he turned around, and he made his way back up the hill.
He ran. Every step felt like forever. Arrows whooshed past him. He felt like one could hit him at any moment. End it. End everything.
But he got to the top of the hill.
He got to the top, and he looked down.
And when he looked, Calvin was already out of sight.
Beth was lying there.
Blood surrounding her.
Her eyes wide open.
And all he could think about was what she’d said.
I told us to wait.
All he could think about was what had happened.
All he could think about was that what happened here was his fault.
He looked back at Calvin’s camp.
Took a deep breath.
And then he disappeared back over the hill, this time alone.
Maybe not today.
But he would get his revenge.
He would get it, no matter what it took.
No matter how long it took.
I told us to wait…
Chapter Two
Three months later…
Mike watched the deer from the bushes and waited for the perfect moment to strike.
The sun was intense. It was early morning, and already Mike was dripping sweat. He had a crippling headache that made him long for paracetamol. Those were the days. Pop a pill and solve all your problems without even thinking about it.
Ah, the luxuries of the old world.
What he’d do for something a little stronger…
He kept his focus on the deer. It was a beautiful creature. Made even more beautiful by the way the sunlight was peeking through the tops of the trees, rays of light beaming down and making it look angelic.
It was such a beautiful sight. Seeing the world just getting on with things even though humans had been knocked down a peg or two, or three.
It was just a shame that it was still food. That Mike needed it to survive, to help his people survive.
He shuffled a little closer to the deer. He had to stay calm. He was holding a hunting rifle. He had a decent stack of ammo with it back at the camp. Not to mention a few other luxuries—insulin for Kelsie included.
They’d been fortunate to stumble upon some of the things they had. Old, derelict hospitals, some of the less psychoactive meds left behind, and things like that. But it was a year since the EMP struck, now. A year since the chaos began to truly unfold. Those who hadn’t died in the first days and the first weeks and the first months… well, that didn’t make them immune to the perils of this world today. It just stood to reason that the more time went on, the more people died. Survival wasn’t something you just achieved. It was an ongoing process, always changing, always shifting, always evolving.
And now older women couldn’t conceive, it felt like humanity had been hit with yet another dark twist of fate.
Mike tightened his grip around the rifle, lifted it, and pointed it at the deer, holding his breath. Truth be told, he was surprised. Surprised that a year had passed and there still hadn’t been some sort of major clean-up operation. It really added fuel to the theory that this was a global thing—or a series of global events.
The fact stood. Nobody really knew. There had been theories. There had been suggestions. There had been information leaked, things like that.
But all that was for certain was that something wiped out the power and comms in Britain a year ago. Something which sparked the deployment of foreign troops and the like to these shores.
Only those same troops claimed they’d been cut off from their homelands, too.
That they had been struck, just like Britain.
The whole world was victi
m to the same deathly disease.
The whole world was dying.
Mike felt nausea building up inside. Just the thought of death itself was enough to make the hairs on his arms stand on end now. Because it was still raw. The emotion. The pain.
The dread even thinking of his loss built up inside.
But sometimes there was no fighting it.
Sometimes, there was no resisting it.
Sometimes, all he could do was be brave and look it right in the eye.
Holly.
He remembered the moment he’d lost her. The moment he’d seen her, kneeling there, just over three months ago. Calvin with that blade to her neck. That look of uncertainty and fear in her eyes.
And he remembered walking over to her. Telling her she was going to be okay. Stepping forward and being willing to give everything up for her to be spared.
He remembered it like it was yesterday.
The blade across her neck.
Fear turning into confusion.
And then confusion into clarity.
Clarity of one impending destination.
Death.
He remembered her lying there. Looking up at him. And he remembered what she’d told him. He remembered the last thing she’d said to him.
“You bring her up like you brought me up. You… you love her like you loved me.”
He shook his head. Took in a sharp inhalation. Because it was the next part that hurt even more.
Seeing Calvin walking away.
And then two weeks after that. Being so close to attacking him. Closing in on him. Having the opportunity to end him.