by Casey, Ryan
She just felt this intense heat and this brightness, and for a moment, just a moment, everything just stood still.
And then she blinked a few times, and her vision started to return.
She was holding onto somebody’s hand. All around her, she could see people running away. But some people hadn’t got away. People were lying on the burning street around her. Bricks flying from houses; chunks of metal flying past and slamming into people, knocking them to the road.
There were dying people. Dead people. And even though her ears were ringing so loud that she couldn’t hear anything else, she could see the screams of people covered in blood. Or people missing arms. Or legs.
She looked around at this scene of horror as her vision started to return even stronger, as the ringing in her ears faded, just slightly, and then she looked at its source.
Up ahead, almost unbearably bright to look at, there was a plane. Burning out. Torn to shreds.
By its side, houses. Houses that were now exploding. Bricks exploding everywhere, like fireworks. Landing in the street, some of them on people on that street.
And there were body parts.
Bodies.
She saw people running through the flames, the flames clawing through their clothes and skin.
She saw the tears in their eyes. The horror on their faces.
She saw their screams as they tried to clutch to chunks of their disintegrating flesh before falling to the road in a heap.
She saw it all happening, smelled the burning meat in the air, heard the crying and screaming, and beyond this light, the total, black darkness, and she wanted to get away from here. She wanted to turn away and run.
But she was frozen.
Completely frozen.
She saw the spot where the bus was, then. Or at least, where she thought the bus was. The one she’d escaped. The one Harry had been trapped in.
And as she looked at it, her teeth chattered together. Because that could have been her in there. She could’ve woken up later and not known a thing about it. Or woken up just slightly too late.
Or woken up to Harry leaving her.
Being left alone and afraid.
He was gone now. There was no coming back from that kind of disaster.
But the pain she felt. The pain at the sense of responsibility she had…
She felt the hand in hers. The hand of the girl she’d saved. At least she’d saved someone’s life. At least she’d done one good deed.
But when she turned around, she noticed something.
The girl wasn’t holding her hand.
There was a hand there.
But there was nobody attached to it.
Aoife let out a cry, dropped the arm.
She looked around.
Saw a girl lying there.
A girl just like the one she’d saved.
A chunk of metal debris in her skull.
Eyes wide open.
Blood pouring from her lips.
Missing an arm, torn away by the wreckage.
Aoife could barely breathe. She felt dizzy. Sick.
But when she heard the next explosion, when she saw more chunks of brick falling down, she knew there was no time to stand around here.
She had to get away.
Had to stay alert.
She couldn’t go collapsing or passing out.
She was lucky to be here in the first place.
Now, she had to get away.
She stumbled down the street. She couldn’t run anymore. She was shaking. The shock. The adrenaline. All of it.
She looked around at the dead bodies. Smelled them. That’s the worst part. That smell of burning. And how, in a stomach-turning sort of way, it actually reminded her of the smells of a summer barbecue.
A smell she’d never be able to enjoy again.
She walked further, shakily, down the street.
There was nobody here.
No ambulances.
No police.
Nobody.
And as much as she wanted to believe someone would come to her aid, she couldn’t shake that feeling that this was bigger than even the police.
All the power out.
All the phones out.
And planes falling from the skies.
Whatever this was… it was big.
She looked around. Looked at the bodies. Looked at the people who were beyond saving.
Looked at people running away.
She looked at the fire. At the burning. At the destroyed terraced houses, at the decimated plane.
At the entire scene of destruction.
She looked at it all, and she knew there was no use staying here.
She looked at the spot where the bus was one final time.
I’m sorry, Harry. I’m sorry.
Then she wiped a tear away, and without any direction in mind, she walked.
Chapter Twenty-One
Max saw the convenience store in the distance, and he had an idea.
It was late. The pitch-black hadn’t eased one bit. He’d been walking for what felt like forever now, and everywhere he walked, he saw the same sights. No lights. No power. Smatterings of chaos and destruction all around. He saw cars completely stationary. People sat in some of them, hands against the steering wheels like they were waiting for some invisible force to swoop in and save them. A force that wasn’t coming.
Other cars were abandoned. Max grunted. At least those people had the right idea. Best thing to do right now was get away from any populated areas. To get the hell to the rural areas. Well. The best thing to do was to be there already.
But Max just happened to be working on the night the power went out. The night every frigging thing went to shit.
Just typical.
He knew he should get back as quickly as possible, especially after the huge blast he’d heard not long ago, but he was standing outside the convenience store just outside the city, and he knew there were things he was short on back home. He knew there were things he needed. Supplies. Things he could do with stocking up on, saving himself a trip back into the city, giving him a head start and an opportunity to survive the first days in the wilderness…
Or, well. To ride this out for as long as it lasted, anyway. He had to stop thinking in terms of worst-case scenarios. He had to stop thinking in absolutes. He had to just take this one step at a time.
And as it stood, he had an advantage. He had a head start.
He took a deep breath and stepped into the twenty-four-hour convenience store, which seemed weird in itself because it was so dark, because the lights were all out. One of those places attached to a petrol station. Not exactly ideal. Not a supermarket, or anything like that.
But it would do, for now.
He walked through the door. It was so dark. So eerie. There was nobody in here, and it didn’t look like anybody had been here yet at all.
He had to take advantage of that. Had to make the most of that.
The first thing he headed towards was the cosmetics aisle. Dental floss. Not the first thing anyone would typically think to hoard in case of a disaster, but Max wasn’t just anyone. He knew his stuff. Tales from the military. Years of research on survival. Really, you’d think he was in his element right now. A real opportunity to test his skills.
He already had a fully kitted out bug-out bag back at home, containing all the supplies he’d need if he was trapped out in the wilderness without power, forced to survive.
Just never imagined he’d ever actually need it.
But there were no thoughts like that in his mind.
Just a pure survival mentality.
Dental floss was handy because it had multiple purposes, and yet it was something most people looked past entirely. Set aside the fact that oral health would be all the more important in a world where it wasn’t as easy to look after yourself, and it had a whole bunch of other handy purposes, too.
It could be used to create DIY stitches, perfect for emergencies. Or to make
a fishing line. Really, the possibilities were endless.
Max knew another few uses for floss, too. You could turn a knife into a spear by tying it to a branch. You could wrap it around tree trunks, use it to trip an enemy, an almost invisible tripwire. And it could be utilised in animal traps, too.
He hoped he wouldn’t have to go too far down those routes, though.
But he had to be prepared.
There were a few other things he grabbed, too. Jars of peanut butter. The perfect food, in a way. Packed with protein. Combined with crackers, went a hell of a long way.
And sure. Max liked his food. And the thought of crackers and peanut butter as a main meal wasn’t exactly the most appetising.
But it would do. It would suffice.
It would get him through.
He picked up some canned beans, some white rice, some tins of meat and vegetables, and a few energy bars. The sort of stuff he had at home, but you could never have too much of this stuff in a time of crisis.
There were a few other things he grabbed, too. More things he figured the average person wouldn’t think of. Blankets. Candles. Lighters. A few painkillers and personal hygiene items, like soap, toothpaste, sanitiser.
And even water, too. Sure, he knew how to set a rain catchment system up. But that would take time. For now, a stockpile of water was going to be handy, especially with the sanitation crisis that the blackout was going to spur.
He took a deep breath as he stared at the supplies, all of which he’d tucked into a rucksack off the shelf. More than he’d hoped to be lugging around with him. But it would do for now.
And for a moment, it hit him just how crazy this was.
Was he being excessive?
Over the top?
Kathryn would definitely have teased him for this once upon a time.
But then he sighed.
It looked serious out there. Better to be safe than sorry.
He walked over to the counter.
There was nobody here. Nobody at all.
He stood there a few seconds. Felt guilty. Because this was stealing. He read about the potential of looting when the world went to shit, and he felt bad about it. Uncomfortable about it. He didn’t want to be one of those people.
But then, this was the new world. For however long it lasted… this was the new world. Like it or not.
He put the basket down anyway. Put his hands into his pocket to retrieve whatever cash he had in there.
And then he heard footsteps right behind him.
“Put that right down,” someone said. “Put that right down and get the hell out of my shop. Now.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Aoife walked into the night and felt so, so lost.
It was late. She had no idea what time it was. Everywhere she walked, she kept on hoping she’d come across some new evidence that this was limited to a really local area. Or that the emergency services were on this, getting control of the situation.
Or just some sign that gave her a fragment of hope that this wasn’t permanent. That this was temporary, and like everything temporary, it was going to be fixed, in time.
But she didn’t see a thing like that.
She just kept on seeing reminders that the city was falling apart, and nobody was stepping in to save it.
She saw cars in the middle of the road. Some of them had crashed into one another. Others had just been abandoned. She smelled smoke in the air. Every now and then, she’d hear the sound of a shout or a cry. And it scared her. The whole thing scared her. Because it felt unpredictable. It felt like anything could happen. Like the shackles were off a lot of people, and they were running wild now.
She just kept her head down and walked. Cold. Shaking. Shivering with adrenaline and with the freezing cold of the air.
She had to get back to the flat.
She had to get back to…
Kayleigh.
Kayleigh and her flatmates.
She thought about them, and she felt guilty right away. So guilty. Because she hadn’t spared a single thought for them since the accident. Hadn’t thought where they might be or what they might be going through.
She thought of them in that nightclub, the lights going on. Or on the streets, watching the countdown, watching the confusion. Imagined their panic. Their fear.
Wherever they were, she hoped they were okay. Because even though she felt like she wasn’t exactly on the same plane as them, when it came to life, they were still people, after all. And they were good people. Decent people. People with good hearts.
She hoped they were okay.
Wherever they were, she hoped they were okay.
She kept her head down and walked. Her leg was sore but not as bad as she’d first feared, especially now she’d wrapped it up. She was terrified; make no mistake about it. The things she’d been through. The things she’d witnessed. And the deaths she felt responsible for. She thought of Harry. She thought about the girl she’d been running along with when the plane crashed and exploded.
She thought of them both, and she wondered if she could’ve done more to help.
But she kept on going. Because as scared as she was, as terrified as she was, she’d faced adversity in the past, and she’d got through it. She’d had the rug pulled from under her feet so many times in life.
She thought about Jason. Her husband. How perfect he seemed. How perfect everything seemed. How convinced she was that he was the guy she was going to grow old with. Her soulmate.
She remembered walking into the hotel bedroom that day when they were away in the Algarve on honeymoon.
She remembered what she saw…
And how her life changed in that instant.
She shook her head. She didn’t want to think about that. She didn’t want to revisit it. She’d thought about it enough times as it was. And the more she thought about it, it still never made any more sense.
She kept her head down and walked further down the street, focusing on footstep after footstep. Bring your awareness to the present moment. That’s what she’d been taught. Bring your awareness to the present, and everything will be good. Everything will be okay. All that exists is the present moment. Not the past. Not the future. Just the now.
She focused on step after step after step when she heard something.
It was a dog. It sounded like it was close by somewhere. Barking.
She looked around. Her heart picking up. She’d had a dog when she’d lived with Jason. A little Jack Russell called, creatively, Jack. She’d always liked dogs. Always wanted one when she was younger, but Dad wasn’t keen on the idea. Didn’t see the point of unnecessary sentimental attachments. Held people back, that’s what he said.
And when she was older, she’d always lived in flats that didn’t allow pets, so she’d just never had the perfect opportunity. The perfect chance.
So hearing this dog now, for some reason—probably a mixture of the heightened emotions of everything—she looked around for it and felt like she wanted a companion.
She looked around, and she saw it.
It was in the front yard just ahead. A Rottweiler. Big dog. Really big. Had a mean bark. Really mean.
But it looked… weirdly sad.
Like it was trying to get out.
Aoife knew she should just keep walking. That it wasn’t any of her business.
But she felt sorry for it, being out here in the cold, all alone.
So she walked over to it.
The houses it lived at were a bit rough. Not the nicest area in the city. Not the kind of people she wanted to get involved with.
But she got closer to it and saw it wagging its little docked tail.
“Hi,” she said. Wanting companionship more than anything. Just wanting someone—something—to connect with on this loneliest of nights. “Are you okay?”
The dog stopped barking. Jumped down from the gate. Wagged its tail. Its ears were back. It looked timid. Shy.
“It’s okay,” Aoife sa
id. “Don’t worry. You’re not on your own anymore.”
She got closer to it, right to the gate, when she noticed something.
Something that made her heart sink.
The dog’s back was lined with marks. Marks that were quite clearly burns.
Cigarette burns.
And she felt an anger at that moment. A rage at that moment.
Because whoever owned this dog clearly mistreated it.
Clearly didn’t look after it.
And she wasn’t sure if it was the change in circumstances. She wasn’t sure if it was because of the adrenaline of everything that’d happened. She wasn’t sure at all.
But Aoife found herself opening that gate.
Letting the dog out.
She expected the dog to go running off.
But it stayed there.
“Not want to go?” she asked.
The dog looked at her. Tongue dangling out. Tilting its head, side to side.
She smiled. “Go on. Time for you to go now.”
She turned around and started walking when she heard the dog’s nails against the road.
She looked around. Saw the dog was following. Keeping its distance but following.
She looked at it, and she smiled. Because if she just walked and the dog just followed, she wasn’t stealing. Not technically. Right?
She looked at the dog and nodded her head. “Okay then,” she said. “You can keep your distance. You can follow. We’ll get used to each other eventually.”
She turned around and walked.
Heard the dog’s nails against the concrete.
And she didn’t feel alone anymore.
She didn’t feel lost anymore.
She felt more comfortable.
More reassured.
For the first time since the power went out, a smile stretched across Aoife’s face.
That’s when she heard a door slam open behind her.
When she heard footsteps racing down a path.
When she heard a shout.
“Oi! Come the fuck back here with my dog. Now!”
Chapter Twenty-Three
“Put everything you’re carrying down right this second and get the hell out of my shop. Now.”