Into the Dark: A Post-Apocalyptic EMP Thriller

by Ryan Casey

  There was plenty of natural to fear without having to worry about the super.

  He told himself he was imagining things.

  And then he heard it again.

  He went still. Totally rigid as he lay there. And he wondered if this was some kind of curse. He wondered if something was chasing him for the things he’d done. For the atrocities he’d committed.

  Because he had no doubts anymore.

  He had no doubts at all.

  He had committed atrocities. That was the only word for it.

  He thought back to his camp. To the junkyard. To the things he’d allowed to happen there. The things he’d overseen. He’d tried to tell himself it was in the name of the greater good. He’d tried to tell himself he was only doing it for the betterment of society.

  He’d tried to tell himself that as unpleasant as they were, the things he’d done were necessary.

  But who was he to make those calls?

  Who was he to make those decisions?

  He heard the guttural call again, and he realised something.

  He laughed. Let out a laugh. Because it was an animal. Some kind of nearby animal letting out a mid-night call.

  He laughed some more, realising just how much he’d misinterpreted that sound. But he still felt cursed. He still felt haunted. He still felt like there was something just out of sight, lurking in the shadows.

  Because there was.

  There was something just out of sight.

  And that was the memory of what he’d done.

  He thought of Mike. He thought of his daughter. He thought of the way he’d stood over her, knife to her neck, and given Mike that ultimatum.

  And he wasn’t planning on carrying it out. That wasn’t his ultimate end game. He despised Mike, but in a way, it was envy. Envy for what he had. For the connections he had. For everything he had.

  He’d just wanted to see him broken down, on his knees, at a loss.

  But then Mike had to go and offer up himself, didn’t he?

  He had to go and offer up Holly for the betterment of everybody.

  He had to go and choose to let his own damned daughter slip from his clutches to save everyone else.

  He really was that damned noble.

  So that’s when Calvin had acted in a way he wasn’t comfortable with.

  That’s when he’d lashed out.

  In the end, that decision was his suicide note.

  The people he was with abandoned him shortly after that, especially as they missed the helicopters, and missed their chance to get away. Some of his people left. Others just killed each other.

  But that snowball had led to one outcome. And that one outcome was lying here, alone, three months later.

  He only had himself, now.

  Himself and his memories.

  Himself and his shame.

  Himself and his guilt.

  He remembered seeing Mike again after they’d had their confrontation. He remembered the way they’d stood off against one another. The way he’d wanted to kill Mike, but at the same time, hadn’t. He’d wanted to give him another chance.

  But at the same time, he regretted that. Because he knew one thing for sure.

  If Mike was still out there… he would be after Calvin.

  If he was still out there, he wasn’t going to give up until he got to him.

  He went to turn around when he heard something outside.

  It wasn’t the guttural groan. Not this time.

  This time, it was something else.

  Voices.

  Very real voices.

  He stayed still at first. Mostly out of reluctance. Mostly out of fear.

  Then he heard those voices getting closer, and he knew he had to get out of here.

  He got up. Got out of the cabin. Because they were getting closer. And if they got to him, they would find him. And who knows what they’d do then?

  He got outside the cabin when he saw them.

  There were four of them. Silhouettes. He couldn’t make them out properly. But they were coming this way.

  He ran around the back of the cabin. Held his breath. Waited. Because he felt scared. He felt afraid. He felt like his life was in danger.

  And he deserved it to be. He deserved to go through hell for the things he’d done.

  Just not today.

  Not today.

  He held his breath when he heard them.

  Their voices. They were right at the front of the cabin. Then inside. Then searching.

  But it was the things they were saying that caught Calvin’s attention. That captured his imagination.

  It was the things they were saying that changed everything.

  He kept still as they stepped out of the cabin.

  He kept still as they walked outside. As they disappeared, slowly, off into the distance.

  He kept still, and he thought about the words they’d said, mulling them over in his mind.

  He thought about them, replaying them, and he realised something as he headed back inside his cabin.

  And then he turned around.

  He made sure he was far enough behind them. Far enough so they wouldn’t notice him. Far enough so they wouldn’t know he was behind.

  And he followed them.

  He followed them through night. Through day.

  And when he finally reached where they were going… he smiled.

  He thought about following them further. He thought about finishing this journey completely.

  But something was stopping him.

  Something was blocking him.

  Unfinished business.

  He took a deep breath and turned back to the woods behind him.

  He might be mad. He might be totally insane. But he couldn’t deny his emotions. He couldn’t deny reality.

  He had a chance to change things.

  He had a chance to change things with Mike.

  He had a chance to redeem himself—once and for all.

  Chapter Six

  Ian wasn’t sure how long he’d been walking into the woods, only that it was the only thing that seemed to help keep his head clear these days.

  It was a nice morning. He’d got up when it was still dark and set off on his journey into nowhere. The birds hadn’t even been singing when he rose, but they were now. It was the most peaceful time of morning. Even if it meant he was only getting three or four hours of sleep, he felt like he got more rest on these walks, in all truth.

  His dreams were just playgrounds for his darkest thoughts to taunt him; to torture him.

  The sky looked clear. There was a humidity to the air even at this early hour. He liked it. Reminded him of the days he used to get up first back when Sofia and Tommy were living at their farmhouse. The sound of Tommy’s little footsteps running down the stairs, racing his way to his dad’s side first thing.

  He smiled. It seemed so long ago. And the same time, it seemed so raw.

  Especially now Sofia had gone, too.

  He walked through the grass. He had nothing on his feet. He liked the feel of the cool grass against his feet. He liked to close his eyes, take deep breaths of that country smell, and transfer himself right back. Sometimes to the days with his family. But other times to before those days, too. To his childhood. To his fragmented memories from his past.

  To the time before worries; before concerns. Before anything.

  Before he’d got attached to things. Things he’d gone on to lose.

  People he’d gone on to lose.

  He looked around at the trees when he opened his eyes. Looked at them all lush and green. If he focused on them enough, he could forget his pain. He could tune in to their form. Feel like he was one with them. Feel like he was present, and the pains of the past weren’t having an impact anymore.

  He could try and kid himself.

  He could try and pretend.

  But it was no use.

  He was haunted, no matter what happened, no matter what he did.

 
He kept on walking through the grass, through the trees, keeping on moving forward. He had no real direction. He just liked to do this to decompress. To keep his thoughts in check.

  But the problem was, today wasn’t going so well.

  Today was different.

  Today, Ian felt the weight of everything that’d happened—everything that he’d lost—was too heavy to bear.

  He looked down at his hands. His stomach sank right away. Because he didn’t like to face up to what he wanted to do. He didn’t want to accept that he was at such a state of mind where the thing in his hands seemed like the only option. He didn’t want any of that.

  But he had to be real.

  He had to be logical and practical.

  If there’s one thing he’d always been, it was that.

  He looked at the rope in his hands.

  Then he looked at the trees.

  And he knew what was coming.

  He knew what was ahead.

  He saw Sofia. He saw Tommy. He saw Corey. He saw his mum and his dad and his dog, Bastion. He saw his brother, Ken. His sister, Mary.

  He saw the tragedy they’d all suffered, and he felt it.

  He felt it deep in his bones.

  Cursed.

  There was no other explanation for it. There was no other logical explanation.

  He’d lost everyone. Every single person closest to him.

  He’d lost them all, and there was no other way of looking at it. There was no other way of viewing it.

  He was alone.

  And sure, he had people. There was Mike. Mike was suffering too. And there were the others—Alison, Gina, Kelsie, Arya.

  But he felt alone.

  He felt alone even amongst them, even though they insisted they were there for him, even though they insisted he didn’t have to go through anything on his own.

  They didn’t know.

  They hadn’t lost like him.

  They’d lost, sure. But not like him.

  He took a deep breath, pushed his thoughts to the back of his mind, and he set his sights on a tree branch in the distance.

  He felt sadness as he approached it. As he tightened the rope in his hands. He felt sadness as he climbed up the sides of the tree, tied the rope around the branch, making sure it was sturdy enough to take his weight.

  And he felt the tears building up.

  He felt his throat wobbling.

  Because it was just so sad that it had come to this.

  After everything, this was what it had come to.

  He thought about Calvin as he made his way back down the side of the tree. He thought about how much he wanted revenge for what he’d done to him. What he’d taken from him. He knew Mike wanted revenge too.

  But the difference between them was that Mike wanted revenge at any cost.

  He was going to lead the group into oblivion if he kept on going the way he was.

  Ian… he was tired.

  He was just tired.

  He just wanted it to end. Every last bit of it.

  He pulled himself up to the rope using the sides of the tree, the lower branches. When he got to it, he hesitated a little. Held it in his hands, perching on another branch for support. He took a deep breath. Inhaled the smells. The scents. Took in all of it.

  And then he looked around at the beautiful, lush green trees, and he smiled.

  It was a beautiful world he was leaving behind.

  It was a gorgeous world he was departing.

  And it would find its feet again. It would battle out of the gutter again, someday.

  He put the rope around his neck, and without hesitating, without thinking, he jumped.

  It was only when the rope tightened around his neck that he regretted what he’d done.

  He opened his eyes. Like he was awakening for the first time from a dark dream. But there was nothing he could do. He was paralysed. Trapped.

  He struggled. Kicked. Vision blurring. Heart pounding. Slipping. Slipping. Slip…

  It was only when his eyelids started to give way that he saw the figure in the distance.

  Watching.

  Watching closely.

  A figure he swore he recognised…

  Chapter Seven

  The following day, Mike decided to stick to his promise to Kelsie and take her out to teach her a few things about firing a rifle.

  It was a gorgeous day. They’d got up extra early, something which Kelsie seemed resistant to at first. Typical kid—wanted the world, but if it meant getting up a little earlier to get it, suddenly got a little uncertain.

  But they were here now. Out in the woods. Kelsie had the hunting rifle in her hands, and Mike was going to teach her how to use it. For hunting or for self-defence? Well, the two crossed over…

  “You see that target there?” Mike said, pointing at a tree up ahead.

  “That rubbish drawing you’ve done?”

  Mike frowned. “It’s just a cross. Just a target. Just something for you to shoot at.”

  Kelsie turned up her nose. “It doesn’t look very good.”

  “Well what do you want, Da Vinci?”

  “I dunno,” Kelsie said, clearly ignoring Mike’s Da Vinci reference, which would of course have gone right over her head. “Just something more…”

  “More…?”

  “More shootable.”

  Mike frowned. “Kelsie, it’s… it’s beside the point.”

  “Barney the Dinosaur.”

  “What?”

  “Barney the Dinosaur. The purple one. You know him?”

  Mike scratched his head. “Not personally, but yeah. I’m aware of the chap.”

  “I don’t like Barney the Dinosaur. Gives me the creeps. If he’s on there, I’ll shoot.”

  Mike laughed. Shook his head. He couldn’t believe the debate he was having with this kid right now and just how irrelevant it was in the grand scheme of things. “Kelsie, it doesn’t matter if it’s Barney the Dinosaur or Jimmy the Aardvark out there. If someone’s running at you, you’re going to have to defend yourself. If there’s a deer in front of you, you need to know how to react in that moment. And to do that, you’re going to have to learn how to use a gun.”

  Kelsie tilted her head like she was considering what Mike was saying. Then she sighed and nodded. “I guess you’re right.”

  “I guess I am. Now come here. Let me show you what you’re doing with that.”

  She frowned. Just for a second. Like she still wasn’t totally buying into what he was saying.

  “What’s that look?” Mike asked.

  Kelsie stared at him with curiosity. “Just wondered who Jimmy the Aardvark was, that’s all.”

  Mike shook his head and sighed. “Come on. It’s about bloody time we got started.”

  He eased Kelsie’s finger onto the trigger. Adjusted her stance. She looked comical with the rifle. Actually a little scary seeing her standing there like this. It robbed her of her innocence, somewhat.

  But she had to learn if she was going to survive. If she was going to adapt.

  When she was in a perfect stance, Mike stepped away. “You’re ready now. So take a deep breath. Steady your focus. And—”

  A blast flew through the air.

  At first, Mike was alarmed. He thought it might be someone else. Someone lurking. Someone launching an attack. Calvin.

  Then he looked around and saw it was just Kelsie.

  The bullet missed the target and slammed into another tree.

  Kelsie had a look of annoyance on her face.

  “I told you,” she said. “If it was Barney the Dinosaur, I’d have hit it.”

  Mike laughed. He couldn’t contain himself. But that just irritated Kelsie even more.

  “Okay,” he said. “Okay. No more mickey-taking. But we’ll try again, okay? Just don’t go firing like that without me saying. We haven’t got unlimited ammo. This isn’t some kind of video game. But anyway. We’ll give it another shot. No need to give up. Practice makes perfect, and al
l that. Or purple.”

  Kelsie groaned then went to fire.

  But then Mike saw something.

  Kelsie must’ve seen it too because she didn’t fire either.

  There was a deer. A deer right up ahead.

  It had its head raised.

  It was looking right at them.

  Tension filled Mike’s body. His heart started to thump. He saw an opportunity. A chance to redeem himself for the deer he’d lost yesterday.

  He slowly went to reach for the rifle.

  “Kelsie,” he whispered.

  But Kelsie was focused on the deer. Kelsie was in stance. Kelsie was holding her breath and holding the rifle.

  Frustration pricked up inside Mike. Because as much as he liked to see that Kelsie was committed, this wasn’t practice anymore. This wasn’t a game. This was reality. This was food.

  He went to grab the rifle.

  “Kelsie,” he whispered a little louder. “Give that to me right n…”

  He saw the deer turn and start to run.

  He went to grab the rifle.

  But then he heard the blast.

  At first, his stomach sank. He felt irritation. He wanted to tell Kelsie off for not listening to him.

  But then he looked into the distance, and he noticed something.

  The deer. It wasn’t there.

  But that wasn’t because it had got away.

  It had fallen over.

  Shot.

  Still.

  Kelsie looked up at Mike. Her eyes were wide like she couldn’t even believe what had just happened.

  He wanted to tell her off, but he couldn’t. Not considering the circumstances.

  “Barney the Dinosaur,” she said. “That’s what I thought of. It worked! Told you I hated that purple creep!”

  She ran off towards the deer. Mike followed her. When they reached its side, Mike was relieved to see it was already dead. At least he wouldn’t have to teach her about putting them down humanely when the bullet didn’t kill them. That was another lesson for another day.

  “Did I do good?” Kelsie asked.

  Mike thought about chastising her for not listening to him. But in the end, he just put a hand on her back and smiled. “Yeah. You did good. Now come on. You can help me lift it back seeing as you shot it.”