Into the Light: A Post-Apocalyptic EMP Thriller (Into the Dark Book 10)

by Ryan Casey

  She took a breath. Steadied her focus. Narrowed it on the path ahead.

  The flats.

  Her home.

  What she had to go there and gather.

  She kept on walking and thinking about baby Holly. How she should be with her now. How awful it was that the girl was spending her first moments of her life with people she barely knew. How awful the world was on the outside, how rapidly things could deteriorate and fall apart.

  But at the same time, she knew there was only one place she could go right now.

  She reached the mouth of the flats when she thought she heard something over her shoulder.

  She turned. Scanned the area. She’d heard footsteps; she was sure of it. Footsteps approaching her. And voices, too.

  But as she looked, she couldn’t see a thing. Which made her wonder. Made her question. Maybe it was an illusion. A trick of the mind. She’d been through a lot in a short space of time after all. Things she’d barely even began to process, yet.

  But they were creeping up on her.

  They were closing in.

  And she was running out of time—not just literally, but emotionally.

  If she didn’t address the emotions she was suppressing right now, there was going to be chaos.

  Chaos that Kelsie wasn’t sure she was going to be able to handle.

  She kept on going, away from the source of the noise, into the flats. Then up the stairs, towards her home.

  As she made this walk, she felt sadness. Like a ghost walking a path it used to walk so often. But Kelsie knew this was the final time. She knew there wasn’t going to be a time after this. She knew this was the end.

  She walked towards her apartment, and the closer she got, the more she felt a force pushing against her. The more she felt resistance. She wasn’t sure how many more steps she could make; how much closer to this old home she could get. Because it was just an attachment. It was just sentimentality. It was just attachments to an alternative future that weren’t going to play out now. That weren’t going to happen.

  But there was still something she wanted to find.

  She reached the door. Put her hand against it. Felt the rival force again. That push to the contrary.

  And then she swallowed a lump in her throat and lowered the handle.

  When she saw the living room of her and Siobhan’s apartment in front of her, she wasn’t sure how to feel. She was expecting another cacophony of emotions. Another hit of feelings and sensations.

  But she felt nothing.

  She looked at all these reminders of a past that was her present just days ago, and she felt nothing.

  She stepped inside. Walked across the room. Past the bed where she’d laid with Siobhan. Past the cabinets they’d made together. Past all these fragments of her past.

  And then she stopped when she saw it.

  The music box. The one Mike had given her. The one that once belonged to her dad.

  She reached for it. Lifted it. Tears building. A reminder of her youth. A source of comfort.

  And then from the draw underneath it, she pulled out a Polaroid.

  It was one of her and Siobhan from a few years ago. In their teen years. All smiles. All happiness.

  She loved that photo.

  She played the music box once more, one final time. Felt the tears falling down her cheeks.

  And then when its little tune had finished, she put it back down and took a deep breath.

  It was too big to carry around with her.

  And even if she could… the memories it carried were just too raw.

  She put the Polaroid in her pocket, and she turned around.

  That’s when she heard the footsteps again.

  She froze. Because she realised something. Those footsteps, they weren’t outside. They were inside.

  They were coming up the stairs.

  She stood still. Fear took over. But then instinct. Instinct to reach for her knife. To fight. To punish these people for taking all they’d taken away from her.

  Because as much as she blamed Gina for the death of Siobhan… if it weren’t for these people, for these Outsiders, Gina wouldn’t have lost her mind. Their homes would still be here.

  Sure. They might never have found Tate. They might never have discovered the truth.

  But they would’ve been home, and they would’ve been happy.

  Just like they’d been for so many years.

  She heard the footsteps getting closer, and she crept over to the door. Stood behind it. Held her knife. Heart racing. Breathing laboured. Sweat dripping down her head.

  She stood, back to the wall, and she waited for those people to rush inside.

  But the footsteps moved past.

  The voices moved past.

  The moment was gone.

  Kelsie stood there for a while longer. She waited until she was certain. Until she was absolutely sure.

  And then when she knew these people had passed by, she stepped outside the flat, and she walked.

  She stopped at the door. Just for a moment.

  Looked back.

  Back at what once was.

  At what she was leaving behind.

  She felt a sudden surge of sadness and grief.

  And then she swallowed a lump in her throat.

  It was time to get out of here.

  It was time to get to her baby.

  And it was time to get her away from this hellhole, once and for all.

  She didn’t look at Mike’s body as she passed it.

  She didn’t look at any of the remains.

  In the pouring rain, the darkening sky, she just walked.

  Chapter Four

  Forty-Five Hours to Go…

  Kelsie walked out of the gates of the Wright Green Hospital for one final time, photograph in pocket, and she could barely bring herself to turn back and look once again.

  The afternoon was growing late. The sky was darker than usual, though, bordering on jet black. The wind and the rain were both picking up. And through all of this, all Kelsie could think about was the silence. The silence that followed a massacre. The silence that teased what was to come. That taunted them, reminding them of a future ahead.

  She saw Tate, first. He was holding baby Holly in his arms, a little uncertain and uneasy about the situation he’d been placed in. Clearly a little bewildered, too. Manuel was by his side. They both half-smiled at Kelsie when they saw her, clearly relieved to see her again, Tate filled in by Manuel about the unsuccessful search for food for the baby that had just unfolded.

  She looked at the rest of the people. Gina’s two other old friends. Then at Arya Jr. And as she stood there, she couldn’t deny feeling totally lost. Totally alone.

  Because Mike was supposed to be here.

  Siobhan was supposed to be here.

  None of this was supposed to happen.

  “I’m… I’m sorry, Kelsie,” Tate said. “Really. I am. I just… I can’t explain how sorry I am.”

  Silence followed. More silence. More lack of sound… a lack that brought death to mind. Besides, she didn’t even think she’d told Tate everything, not one on one. She hadn’t had to. He’d just figured things out for himself.

  “I’m sorry for a lot of things. There’s… there’s a deadline. A ticking clock, as you already seem to know by now. Two days. Less, now. I didn’t want to scare you all. I just hoped we’d find another group of people along the way. A group who could help us. Because these people you call The Outsiders. They’re not all evil. They’re not all awful.”

  “I’ll believe it when I see it,” Manuel said.

  Tate ignored him. “They’re in a… a tough situation.”

  “What do you know?” Kelsie asked.

  Tate frowned. “What?”

  “You crashed here. You told me you knew of another place out there. A place you call home. Only it seems by now you didn’t even know how you were planning to get back to it after all. And now you’re talking about the possibi
lity of some of the Outsiders not all being evil, or whatever. So what’s your deal? Really?”

  Tate took a deep breath and shook his head. “There are things that… Look. All I can say is that Blackpool is where we’re heading. That’s the location we need to go. That’s the next source of extraction. That’s where my colleagues will be. That’s where we have to get to within the next forty-eight hours—less now—if we’re going to want to survive. If we’re going to want your baby to survive.”

  And Kelsie thought about saying it didn’t matter. That nothing mattered anymore.

  But she knew that wasn’t true.

  She knew she didn’t believe that, not deep down, not really.

  She walked over to Tate.

  Looked at her baby.

  Felt total fear fill her.

  Because she wasn’t ready for this.

  She wasn’t ready to hold her.

  She wasn’t ready to accept her.

  She wasn’t ready to step into this dangerous new world.

  But then was anybody?

  Was anybody at all?

  She took a deep breath. Looked back at her home. And as much as she felt sadness, as much as she felt pain, she found herself wiping a tear away because she had to accept the truth.

  This wasn’t her home anymore.

  And soon, this whole country wouldn’t be anyone’s home.

  She looked back at baby Holly and thought about all the other children in Britain. Those who knew what was coming and those who didn’t.

  And she just felt so sad for them. So sad for the lot of them.

  Because the end was nigh, and so many of them didn’t even know it yet.

  She reached into Tate’s arms and lifted baby Holly.

  She looked at her. Looked into her beautiful blue eyes. And she saw Siobhan there. Saw her looking back at her, little glimmer of recognition on her face.

  She saw the way she looked back at her, and then she looked at Tate, and at Manuel, and at the rest of Gina’s people.

  “Where is it we have to go?” Kelsie asked.

  Tate gulped. “That’s the problem. I don’t know exactly.”

  “You don’t know exactly?” Manuel said. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means exactly what it sounds like it means. But the fact stands. It’s this or it’s nothing. And right now, I don’t think I’m ready to just do nothing. I don’t think any of us should be ready to just do nothing.”

  “That’s why we’re not going to do nothing,” Kelsie said.

  Tate looked at her as she walked past. So too did the others.

  “Kelsie?”

  She took a deep breath, smelled the burning and the death, but also the freshness in the distance of the air.

  “We’re going to get to Blackpool,” she said. “We’re going to get to that extraction point. And we’re going to get my baby out of this country. No matter what it takes.”

  They nodded.

  Then, they walked.

  Kelsie didn’t look back at her home. Not once.

  But it would never leave her heart.

  Chapter Five

  Gina staggered through the trees, gripping tight hold of her stomach, and she wondered how she was still alive at all.

  The afternoon was dragging on. The clouds were growing thicker, and torrential rain was powering down from above. She could hear things in her ears. Scratching. Rustling. Like there was movement surrounding her. Closing in on her.

  And a part of her wanted to give in to that movement. A part of her wanted to just submit to that movement.

  But a stronger, more forceful part of her wanted to keep on pushing.

  Because she was awake now.

  Awake to the things she’d done.

  Awake to the horror she’d engulfed herself in.

  And more importantly… awake to how much her time was running out.

  She pushed on. Knees weak. She could feel blood trickling—no, pouring—through her fingers from where she’d been stabbed in her chest. She didn’t want to look at it. Wanted to ignore it. Wanted to just keep on pushing. Because if she looked at it, she’d have to acknowledge it. And if she acknowledged it, she’d have to accept it.

  And the it she’d have to accept was something she couldn’t face.

  Because she wasn’t sure she was ready to die knowing she was responsible for the things she’d done.

  The things that had rendered her incapable of even carrying that rifle she’d held so recently.

  The rifle she’d committed such awful atrocities with.

  She saw it. The memories. The flashes of the things she’d so recently done.

  Her people.

  And Siobhan.

  She thought about Siobhan, and she felt the guilt surge through her. Because as much as she hadn’t exactly been friends with Siobhan… well, ever. She knew Kelsie loved her. She knew just how important she was to Kelsie. How important she was to all of her people.

  She knew the emotional toll that Kelsie was going to suffer. She’d seen it. She’d been there herself.

  And she was selfish. She knew that. She had done what she’d done in a moment of confusion. In a moment of sheer loss.

  She’d seen what other people had—what had been taken away from her—and she couldn’t face it. She just couldn’t bear it.

  And she’d taken it out on the only other person close to her who she’d seen had someone they loved.

  Because she wanted them to feel it too.

  She felt tears flowing as she continued to stumble along through the woods. She kept on looking over her shoulder, feeling like someone was closing in on her. And she wanted to go in that direction. She wanted to find Kelsie. She wanted to apologise to her.

  But she knew there was nothing she could do to show how sorry she was.

  Kelsie had already had her say. She’d already left her for dead.

  So the right thing for Gina to do, when all things were considered, was roll over and die.

  She stopped. The pain in her chest was intense and burning. Her heart was racing. Her fingers were absolutely soaked with blood. Her vision was blurring, and her ears were ringing. Even her sense of taste, imbued with sickness and nausea, was growing fuzzier, less acute.

  She looked down at her chest, and she saw the blood.

  The second she saw it, she felt herself turning pale and cold. It was the shock that hit her. The bright red covering her clothes, covering her hands. She knew it was bad. And hell if she knew she deserved it.

  But just seeing it like this. Seeing how bad a condition she was in.

  And then looking up and seeing how lost she was…

  She felt her knees going weak, and she toppled over onto the ground.

  She hit it with a slam. Scratched the side of her face. Felt the summer storm coating her, drenching her. And as she lay there and looked around, she felt lost. Totally lost.

  And maybe it was right.

  Maybe this was how it should be.

  But then she took a deep breath. As hard as it was. As much of an effort as it was. As painful as it was.

  Because there was still a chance.

  Kelsie had said it herself.

  There was still a chance. Still a chance to get away. To survive.

  And as much as she knew she’d probably be turned away at the gates—just like heaven—she owed it to herself to get there.

  She owed it to herself to at least try being better.

  Didn’t she?

  She felt another pull, then. A rival pull. A stronger pull. The same pull that had come over her when she’d been reacting in grief. When she’d followed her people. When she’d taken out Siobhan.

  She felt that cloud sinking over her, and she knew she couldn’t fight back against it this time. She knew she couldn’t resist it this time.

  Because it told her what she deserved. Exactly what she deserved.

  She didn’t deserve to survive.

  She didn’t deserve to make it
.

  She didn’t deserve a thing.

  She closed her eyes and thought of Romesh. Thought of Emilia. She thought of the day she was born. The pride she’d felt. The joy she’d felt. The sense that she was invincible. That this happiness was unmovable. That nothing could get in its way. Ever.

  And then she thought of the moment she’d found Romesh lying there. The moment she’d looked out of the window. The dread she’d felt. That looming sense of inevitability.

  Then looking out of the window and seeing for herself.

  Seeing the truth.

  She remembered that pain, what it did to her, the spell it cast over her.

  And she remembered what she’d done afterwards.

  The people she’d killed.

  In cold blood.

  She closed her eyes, and she reached for her wound. She was going to tear it open. Widen it. End it all as quickly as she could.

  She felt more tears flowing down. Her throat wobbling. Her body shaking.

  “I’m—I’m sorry, Siobhan,” she said. “I’m sorry, Kelsie. For everything. For...”

  She heard a rustling right in front of her.

  Then another.

  And another.

  She went still. The rain had stopped. Everything was silent.

  She opened her eyes, expecting nothing. Just the wind. Just a figment of her imagination.

  But then she saw the people standing over her, and she felt the dread kicking in.

  “Well well,” the man said—skinny, gaunt, pale. “Gina the Ginger. Fancy seeing you out here. It’s been a while.”

  He looked over his shoulder. Looked at his people. The people she recognised. The hate in their eyes. All directed towards her.

  “Come on,” he said, reaching towards her. “Not ready to let you die just yet. Not before you’ve answered for yourself. Not before you’ve paid.”

  Chapter Six

  Forty-Four Hours to Go…

  Kelsie held onto baby Holly as tight as she could as her group walked through the woods in the direction of Blackpool.