Survive The Darkness | Book 2 | Escape The Darkness

by Ryan Casey

  Never wanting to become his dad.

  And then he saw Cody.

  He saw himself holding him for the first time in that hospital room and being terrified.

  He saw himself looking down at this baby in his arms and wanting to drown him. Wanting to crush his skull. Because he was too young for a baby. And he never wanted any kid to suffer a father like the one he’d suffered.

  But then he remembered other things, too. Good times. Laughter. Cody getting all caught up in Sellotape that time. His delight when they went to Blackpool and rode on the donkeys by the beach. Even the trips swimming, where James could never be arsed teaching him.

  And yet, he always enjoyed it.

  He was always so proud of him.

  He thought of Cody, and he thought of how grateful he was for him…

  And then he saw another flash.

  Cody.

  Lying dead on that kitchen table.

  Alone.

  He saw Cody, and then in his mind’s eye, he saw the man, Max.

  The woman, Moira.

  Aoife.

  Nathan.

  Rex.

  He saw them all in his mind’s eye, and he felt anger.

  He felt rage.

  Because Cody was his son.

  Cody was his son, and they’d taken him away from them.

  He felt pain right across his skull.

  He tasted blood.

  He heard whooshing sounds all around.

  And then…

  He opened his eyes.

  Light above. So bright it burned.

  His head ached. And the taste of blood was real. The whooshing sounds, nothing more than the tree branches blowing against one another.

  He dragged himself upright. His head was bleeding—badly. And he felt in pain. Weak.

  But there was just one thing on his mind as he crouched there on the ground in the middle of the woods.

  The people who’d taken Cody away from him.

  He looked around, down the slope, as blood trickled from his aching head.

  He tightened his fists.

  He knew exactly what he had to do.

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  Aoife sat in the darkness of the attic.

  She had no idea what time of day it was up here, trapped in the darkness. It could be any time at all. Morning. Night. She didn’t know. She’d lost all sense of what time it was. All sense of how long had passed. All she could do was sit here and listen to the wind blowing against the attic’s creaky foundations. Listen to the birds that kept landing on the roof, walking along it.

  And occasionally, listen to the footsteps below, and wonder if it was finally time for them to come for her.

  She looked across the attic. It was dark, but she could see Nathan’s silhouette across from her. They weren’t gagged, but Aoife hadn’t said much. Partly because she was worried about anyone hearing them talking, but mostly because she got the impression Nathan wasn’t exactly in a talking mood.

  And she got it. Really, she did. After all, he’d just lost his father. He’d been responsible for the death of a child.

  And now his mum was back at the house with that lunatic, and God knows what was going to happen to her.

  Her wrists were bound together. Her ankles, well. They hadn’t even bothered. People were guarding the downstairs, after all. Didn’t really matter that they could get up and wander around. It wasn’t like they were going anywhere any time soon.

  But still, Aoife found herself wandering around. She found herself trying to learn where the creakiest floorboards were. Where the quietest areas of this freezing cold, breezy attic were.

  For what?

  She didn’t know. She wasn’t entirely sure yet.

  She’d searched the entire loft for some kind of weapon. Some kind of thing she could use to defend herself with—or even fight her way out of here with.

  She’d searched the whole place for something—anything.

  But she was out of luck.

  Just old cardboard boxes, which reeked of damp.

  Loads of insulation, loose and torn.

  And every now and then, specks of shit, clearly from rats.

  But nothing she could use.

  Nothing at all.

  “Surely, there has to be something,” she muttered.

  “What’s the point?” Nathan said.

  Aoife turned around. “What?”

  Nathan shrugged. “What’s the point anymore? We’re stuck in here. They’re hardly going to let us just walk out. And even if we do get out, what then? Cody’s dad. He’s with Mum. He’s with Mum, and if he’s with Mum, we both know that can only mean one thing.”

  “We don’t know that yet.”

  “Don’t be a fucking idiot,” Nathan said.

  “Beg your pardon?”

  “He’s going to kill the lot of us. Dad. Mum. You. Me. Max. If the dog’s lucky, then maybe he’ll get away with it. But I wouldn’t hold your breath.”

  Aoife shook her head. The defeatism in Nathan’s voice took her back a bit. “We can’t know—”

  “Wake up, Aoife,” Nathan said. “Wake the fuck up. We aren’t getting out of this. He’s planning something. They’re all planning something. And whatever they’re planning isn’t going to be good for us.”

  Aoife wanted to say something to reassure him, but she just ended up closing her mouth. Sighing. “I’m sorry. For everything that’s happened to you. Really. I am. But you… you can’t lose hope now. This isn’t the moment to lose hope. We’ve got to keep on fighting. Just a little more. And if it comes to nothing, it comes to nothing.”

  “My dad,” Nathan said. “I can’t stop seeing him in my mind. Seeing his… his eyes. Or where his eyes were.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “And my mum. Lying on the floor. I should’ve done something. I should’ve—I should’ve helped. I should’ve—”

  “You did what you could—”

  “I killed Cody.”

  “Nathan, you tried to save his life. Even after what he did, you still tried to save him. You tried to—”

  “That’s not how it went down,” Nathan said, lifting his head. “I killed him, Aoife. I could have saved him. I could have at least tried to save him. But I killed him. I had a choice. And I chose to kill him.”

  Aoife felt a shiver right down her spine. “What do you mean?”

  Nathan leaned back, stared up into the darkness. “I was trying to help him. I’m a doctor, after all. It’s what I do. Even when it’s against my better fucking judgement. But I… I could see it, even in all his pain. The way he was looking up at me. Even in his pain, he was goading me. Even though he was in agony, he was still having the last laugh. And I… I just couldn’t take it. I didn’t think. I just… Well. I killed him. So everything that’s happening now. It’s my fault. All of it is my fault.”

  Aoife didn’t know what to say. Nathan had seemed so peaceful up to now. So calm and composed, no matter what he was faced with.

  Hearing what he’d done to Cody—to that kid—it made her shiver.

  “It’s on me,” Nathan said. “All of it is on me. If I’d just kept my cool… this wouldn’t have happened. None of this would’ve happened. We would’ve given Cody back, and they would’ve given you back, and it’d be over. Everyone is going to die, and it’s all on me.”

  Aoife walked over to his side slowly. Crouched down, right beside him. Sat there with him for a few seconds, not really saying anything at all, just being there with him. Trying to absorb what he’d just told her.

  “I killed someone yesterday, too,” Aoife said.

  Nathan didn’t say anything.

  “My brother.”

  He looked around.

  “Thought that might get your attention.”

  She let out a sigh. “I don’t want to go into the ins and outs of it. But my brother. He wasn’t a good guy. But in the end, standing there, I could’ve let him live. I could’ve given him a chance. But I chose not to.
And you know what I find the scariest thing? The hardest thing to digest of all?”

  “What?”

  “How okay I am with it. How … how little it’s got to me. Sure, I’ll have nightmares. And sure, it could just be the shock. But it felt like the right thing to do. Like the only thing I could’ve done. And that scares me. Because if that’s what I’m doing on day one—”

  “Then what will you be capable of on day one-hundred?” Nathan said as if reading her mind.

  Aoife looked into his eyes. Bloodshot and red. Fuck, he looked exhausted.

  “If there’s one thing we’re not going to do,” Aoife said, “it’s give up. Because if you seriously think James was going to just do a straight trade between me and Cody and then all was going to be fine and dandy, then you’re a bigger idiot than I thought.”

  Nathan sighed. Nodded.

  “But we can worry about the ramifications later. We can go through all the shit we’re going to go through later. And hell, we can suffer for what we’ve done later. But right now, we need to at least try. One last push. That’s what we need. Right?”

  Nathan looked right back at her, held that stare a little longer than was comfortable.

  Then he nodded.

  Aoife smiled back at him. “Good. Then let’s…”

  It all happened so fast.

  The speck of bird shit that tumbled down onto Nathan’s head from above.

  She frowned. “What…”

  “Damned bird,” Nathan said, rubbing the shit from his hair. “Of all the places to shit, and it chooses me.”

  Aoife reached up above him.

  Up to where the shit had come from.

  And she noticed something.

  A gap.

  A small gap.

  Light peeking through.

  She pulled at the rotten wood.

  Pulled at the insulation.

  She pulled and pulled as more of it came away.

  As more light shone through.

  Cold breeze on her face as she grew more and more excited by the moment.

  “What are you doing?” Nathan asked.

  Aoife turned around at him, and she smiled.

  “Getting us out of here,” she said.

  CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

  Max waited until he was absolutely sure the street was empty before walking across it and throwing himself inside the DPU delivery van sitting in the middle of the road.

  “Down,” he said.

  “What?” Moira said.

  “Get down. If they see two of us in here, they’ll get suspicious.”

  “You really think they’re going to be snooping around a delivery van right now? Really?”

  “You’d be surprised,” Max said.

  Moira sighed and eventually complied, ducking down in front of the passenger seat. “I hope you’ve got a bloody good reason for being in a bloody delivery van in the middle of an estate that bloody hates us.”

  Max grabbed the DPU cap and put it on his head. Then he looked around for a trace of a spare shirt or something like that. Apparently, the drivers always had spares, just in case.

  He hit the glove compartment and, voila. There it was. A spare shirt, right on cue.

  He dragged his own shirt off, his body feeling stiff and clammy.

  “So, tell me why you’re dressing as a delivery driver again?”

  Max pulled the fresh shirt over his head, complete with a pre-printed name tag: Stuart. “Because it’ll help me blend in better. I can pretend my van broke down here. Went home to find you, my mother.”

  “Mother? How about sister?”

  “Dream on. We’re going with mother. Anyway. We can earn their trust a bit better if we need to. You’re going to keep a low profile because I don’t want any of the kids or the people from the estate recognising you. I’ll try and find James’ place. And if Aoife and Nathan are in the loft, just like he said, well, we’re on to a winner. We have a chance.”

  Moira stared wide-eyed at Max. “That’s your plan? Really?”

  “What’s wrong with it?”

  “It’s just… Well. Really think they’re gonna just let you go wandering into that James’ house?”

  “Do you have a better idea?”

  “I…” She sighed, shook her head. “I just hope it works. This is my son we’re talking about.”

  Max opened his mouth to say something back to that. Some snappy remark that seemed to come natural. But in the end, he just closed his mouth. Thought better of it. “We’re doing the right thing for your son. We’re going to help him out of this. Okay?”

  She looked around at Max, and as clearly uncomfortable and unnatural as it was to her, she forced a smile. “So where do I come into things?”

  Max looked down the street. It looked as expected. Abandoned cars. Broken glass. Smashed windows boarded up. Seagulls snapping at loose, empty crisp packets. Crows picking at God knows what.

  “First job is finding where James lives.”

  “And how are we supposed to do that?”

  “I’m a delivery guy,” Max said. “Remember? Everyone trusts a delivery guy.”

  “I don’t really think James is gonna be expecting a bloody parcel in the middle of a blackout, do you?”

  “Sure. But maybe I’ve got a better idea.”

  He went to step out onto the road when he realised he would have to address the elephant in the room.

  “I’m guessing you’re gonna want me to stay behind again, hmm?”

  Shit. Onto him before he could even bring it up himself. “Moira…”

  “I don’t want to. Believe me; I don’t. It’s my son. And I know better than to leave him in the hands of someone struggling to even stand, like you.”

  “I feel better already. Really.”

  “Well, you don’t look it.”

  “It’s the only way.”

  Moira looked deeply into Max’s eyes. Stared right at him like she was trying to weigh him up, figure him out. “I don’t want to leave you to this. It’s not how it should be. I should be there with you. Because he’s my son, and he’s all I have left.

  “But… but if this is really it. If this really feels like the last resort. If this is all we’ve got left. Then… bloody hell, I never expected I’d be saying this. But I trust you.”

  Max nodded. A trust he wasn’t sure he deserved. Definitely wasn’t sure he’d earned it.

  But a trust he wasn’t going to take lightly.

  “I’ll do everything I can to get your son out of this,” Max said. “I promise.”

  Moira nodded. And this time, a genuine smile crossed her face. “They say don’t make promises you can’t keep. But I’ve no doubt you’ll do everything you can. And that’s… that’s all I can ask for.”

  Max nodded back at her. Heart racing. Nerves starting to kick in.

  He took a deep breath and turned around to face the street.

  It was time to get to James’ place.

  And it was time to get Aoife, Nathan, and Rex out of this mess.

  He went to take a step when he heard movement behind him, and his stomach sank.

  “Not another move,” a voice said. “Or you’re both finished.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

  Aoife clawed at the rotting wood, punched at the cracked brick, and as brick-dust trickled down onto her face, she genuinely felt like freedom was getting closer.

  She kept on pulling away at it. The brightness of the sky shining through. And she felt herself smiling. Smiling and crying, both at the same time. She knew it was ridiculous. After all, she hadn’t even considered what she might do when she got onto the roof. It was already a hell of a jump from the top floor of these houses, as she’d seen when she smashed the window in the other house just earlier.

  But still, it felt like something. It felt like progress.

  And surely, right now, that was all that mattered.

  “Are you gonna help?” she said. “Or are you gonna just stand there messing with your ha
ir?”

  “A pigeon shat in my hair, okay?”

  “Pigeon? I thought it was a seagull before? Anyway, what the hell am I on about? Does it even matter? Give me a hand here. We’ve got a chance. Come on.”

  Nathan walked up to Aoife’s side.

  She saw the look on his face. His wide, bloodshot eyes. How knackered and drained he looked. And she felt sorry for him. So sorry for him. Because he’d lost so damned much today.

  And the guilt over what’d happened to Cody… the way he’d turned his back on his professional responsibility… that must be a bitter pill to swallow.

  “We’ve got this,” Aoife said. “I don’t know what it means for us or whether it’ll mean anything for us. But surely anything’s better than rotting in here until they decide what to do with us. Right?”

  Nathan looked right at her. And for the first time since they’d been locked away in here—maybe even the first time since he’d found his dad’s dead body—Aoife swore she saw a glimmer of hope in his eyes.

  “Come on,” she said. “Let’s get out of here. Let’s…”

  Commotion.

  Shouting downstairs.

  Running underneath them.

  The hairs on her neck stood on end.

  They were onto them.

  They were onto them, and they had to get out of here.

  Fast.

  “Quick,” Aoife said.

  They dragged at the remains of the rotten wood, at the insulation, the fabric. Yanked away at it all until Aoife was certain no more was coming away.

  More shouting downstairs.

  Muffled voices.

  Voices she couldn’t properly make out.

  “Come on,” she muttered. “Come on…”

  She pulled more at the roof above her until she was absolutely sure it wasn’t dislodging any more.

  But there was a gap above.

  A fair-sized gap. A gap she might’ve comfortably fit through in her late teens when she was thin as a rake. But a gap she wasn’t sure she could handle anymore.

  “You sure you can fit through there?” Nathan said.

  “Me? Cheeky bastard. Are you sure you can fit through there?”

  But that way he looked up at her.

  That way he stared at her with those wide eyes.