by Ryan Casey
Martin walked past the tall trees. The last time he’d come here, he felt like they were looking at him. Weighing him down. Judging him. But today, it felt different. Everything felt lighter.
He listened to the birds singing in the trees. Smelled the rich, fresh pine from the distance. If he closed his eyes and really focused on his senses, not his memories, he could convince himself he was back there. Back in his old life. Back when things were good with him and Sarah.
But he didn’t feel as sad about making this journey into the woods anymore. He didn’t feel that same level of guilt.
He heard panting by his side. Looked down, saw Bruce running along with him.
So yeah. Dog had received a name change. All on Ella, really. She insisted they couldn’t just call him “Dog.” It was inhumane, she said. And it didn’t matter how much Martin told her he didn’t care cause he didn’t really understand. She just tutted. Rolled her eyes like he’d said the worst possible thing in the world.
He smiled at the thought.
“Are we nearly there yet or what?”
Martin looked over his shoulder and saw Ella traipsing along behind him.
She’d left her Adidas Stan Smiths out in the rain in hopes of cleaning away some of the mud, but they were back to their brown, caked state again now. Her grey hoodie dangled from her waist. A white Bon Iver T-shirt had a few specks of mud on it, too.
And her arms.
Her arms were on show.
She wasn’t hiding them anymore.
Martin smiled when he saw her clambering between the trees, trying not to slip. “You’re a bloody kid. You’re supposed to have all the energy in the world. What’s up with you?”
Ella gave him a sharp glare. “I told you. It’s nothing to do with my energy. I just don’t like the mud, that’s all.”
Martin smirked back at her. “You’re gonna have to get used to the mud, kiddo. It’s a part of life now.”
He turned and kept on walking through the woods, kept on searching for what he was looking for. It was three days since he’d rescued Ella from that psychopath. His arm still ached like mad. He’d stitched it up as well as he could with dental floss. It didn’t look infected, but he knew he had to be careful. He couldn’t take any risks. Not in this world.
He was slowly coming to terms with the reality that the power wasn’t coming back on any time soon. It’d been five days now. Five days, and no sign of electricity. No sign of anything: military, police, planes, helicopters. As far as Martin was concerned, this was a long haul thing. It was scary. Damned terrifying.
But they’d survive.
One way or another, they’d survive.
He reached the tree and stopped.
He looked at it. Looked at the initials carved into it. MA. SA. EA.
Ella reached his side. “Is this it?”
Martin turned to her. Frowned. Half-expected her to make some other kind of snarky remark.
But she was smiling.
“It’s nice,” she said. “And I… I think I remember.”
“Remember what?”
“You carving it.”
Martin shook his head. “You can’t. You were way too young—”
“I felt like I was floating. I remember smelling the bark. I remember someone laughing and hearing Mum say you were a madman. You were a nutter.”
Martin drifted off into the memory then.
The memory of carving those initials into that tree, Ella in a holster on his front.
Sarah standing watch in case any walkers passed by.
“You’re a madman, Martin,” she said, laughing. “You’re a nutter.”
Then that snotty old woman shouting at him, telling he was committing a crime against nature. Reporting him to the National Trust. Standing there, Ella in his holster, Sarah by his side, all of them just laughing as this woman grew more and more furious.
Martin wiped a tear from his eye. He looked back at Ella, then back at the tree, and he smiled. “We used to come back here every time we visited, your mum and me. I never visited again until a few days ago. And you know… it felt so empty. So much like it was missing something. But it doesn’t feel like that today.”
Ella stood there. Hands over her arms. Rubbing them, like she did when her defences were rising, something Martin had noticed.
“What are we going to do now?” Ella said.
Martin looked up at the trees. At the sunny sky. At the woods around them.
“We’ll need to gather some supplies. We’ll need to learn to hunt. We’ll need to protect what we have. Even if this blows over… we need to be ready for any eventuality.”
“We?” Ella asked.
Martin’s heart raced. That resistance. That sense he wasn’t strong enough, he wasn’t good enough.
All of it dissipating.
All of it drifting away.
He smiled. “I’m going to look after you, Ella. I’m going to be your dad. No matter what.”
A pause. A silence. A moment where nothing was said.
Then Ella stepped to her dad and put a warm arm around him.
Martin put a hand around her back and felt his heart melt.
“I remember something you told me,” Martin said. “Something that stuck with me. You told me we’re all in the deep end. We’re just…”
“Trying to float as well as we can,” Ella said.
Martin looked down at her. Smiled. “Don’t finish my sentences for me. It’s irritating.”
Ella raised her eyebrows. “Don’t patronise me. It’s irritating.”
Martin laughed. Ella laughed back. The pair of them stood there, Bruce by their side, the glow of the sun shining down on the initial-marked tree.
“So what now?” Ella asked.
Martin looked at the woods all around them. Saw the sun peeking through the trees. Listened to the sounds of animals. An abundance of opportunity. A chance for new beginnings.
“We prepare,” he said.
“What for?”
Martin took a deep breath of that cool autumn air, and smiled. “For whatever this world throws at us.”
END OF BOOK 1
Dark Survival, the second book in the Days of Darkness series, is now available to pre-order on Amazon at smarturl.it/DarkSurvivalKindle
Want More from Ryan Casey?
Dark Survival, the second book in the Days of Darkness series, is now available to pre-order on Amazon: http://smarturl.it/DarkSurvivalKindle
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The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. Any reference to real locations is only for atmospheric effect, and in no way truly represents those locations.
Copyright © 2019 by Ryan Casey
Cover design by Damonza
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Published by Higher Bank Books
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