Days of Darkness (Book 3): Dark World

by Casey, Ryan

  Martin shook his head. He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t want to give up on his daughter. And he didn’t want to give up on the rest of his people either.

  He was pinned down. He wasn’t in any kind of position of strength. No position to be making demands.

  He couldn’t face walking away.

  But he couldn’t face endangering Harriet, Oscar, or Bruce, either.

  “I’m sorry things have reached this point,” Harold said. “Truly. But believe me when I say it’s the only way forward. If we let Ella go, there’s no chance you’ll stay away. If we kill her, well. Same logic. But if we look after her. If we keep her one of our citizens. If we stand by her. Help her. Educate her in our ways. Well. We won’t have a problem, will we?”

  Martin shook his head. He didn’t know what to say or what to do. He couldn’t face losing Ella again. Couldn’t face her disappearing from his life all over again.

  But then what choice did he have?

  “Think very carefully, Martin. You’re a rational man. A logical man. What’s it going to be?”

  Martin looked across the woods into Harriet’s tearful eyes. At the terror on Oscar’s face.

  And at Bruce. Writhing around. Struggling. Desperate to break free.

  He thought about Ella. The way she’d disappeared. The life Harold spoke about. The future ahead.

  And he knew he didn’t have a choice.

  There was only one thing he could do.

  “Okay,” he said.

  Harold frowned. “Okay?”

  “I give up. I don’t want to lose anyone else. Please. Just let us go. Let us start again. And Ella. Look after her. Please look after her.”

  Harold paused for a few seconds. Then he took an audible deep breath. Walked over to Martin’s side. Put a hand on his face. Looked right into his eyes. “I respect that. It’s the right decision. For all of us. And you know I’m a man of principle. You know I’d never do anything to put Ella in danger. I’m a man of my word.”

  He let go of Martin’s face.

  And then he walked back over to Jax.

  Stepped behind him.

  “As for you....”

  It all happened so quickly.

  Harold lifted his pistol.

  Pressed it to the back of Jax’s head.

  And then he fired.

  More gunshots rang out. More desperate cries. One by one. Blast after blast.

  And all Martin could do was watch as Jax’s remaining people dropped dead.

  As they dropped to the ground.

  All on Harold’s orders.

  He lowered his pistol. Looked over at Martin. At Harriet. At Oscar. At Bruce.

  “Good decision, Martin,” he said, dead bodies all around him. “A very good decision.”

  And then he put his pistol in his pocket and walked away.

  Leaving Martin with the bodies.

  With the memories.

  And with Harriet, Oscar, and Bruce, still tied up, still struggling.

  But here.

  Alive.

  Staring at the destruction.

  At the loss.

  Blood trickled from Jax’s bald head.

  His eyes stared up at the sky.

  Gentle smile still resting on his face.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Ella screamed out for her dad as the men dragged her down the pipe and away from the flames.

  Smoke filled her lungs, made her cough and splutter so much she wanted to puke. Her legs felt weak. The hands dragging her along were tight, digging right into her shoulder blades. She wanted to fight them off. She wanted to escape that tunnel and disappear with her dad. She wanted to get away so, so much.

  But she couldn’t do a thing.

  All she could do was kick and lash out as these two men pulled her down the pipeline, away from the flames, away from her gun, and away from everything else.

  “Why’s he insist on keeping her alive, anyway?” one of the men asked as they raced their way further down this pipe, further into the darkness.

  “Hell knows. Something to do with the dad. Keeping him sweet. That kind of thing.”

  Ella heard these words as the men dragged her along, and she couldn’t make sense of them. And she was spluttering too much to get a word in.

  But one thing was clear.

  She was being captured. Taken as hostage. Playing some part in whatever war Harold was raging.

  And as she kept on trying to wriggle and break free, she thought about her dad. The look in his eyes when she’d been snatched away. The pain in his voice.

  And she knew what he’d feel.

  He’d found her. Again.

  And he’d lost her. Again.

  She couldn’t let that happen.

  She had to do something.

  She couldn’t just give up.

  She tried to grab the sides of the pipe, but the walls were too slick. She tried to turn around, tried to look for any kind of exit, or any kind of distraction she could use—but with no luck. She’d seen an opening not long back. There had to be more. There had to.

  She squinted at these two men dragging her in the darkness, rifles by their sides.

  And then the disappearing flames, way off in the distance.

  And then it hit her.

  The darkness.

  She could use the darkness.

  She swallowed a lump in her throat. Braced herself. Because she knew what she was about to try was risky. It could kill her. It probably would.

  But if she didn’t try, she’d definitely die. Or worse—she’d be strung up. Tortured. Used as a pawn in whatever came next with Harold and Jax. God knows what else.

  So she had to try something.

  She stopped struggling.

  Went totally limp, there in the darkness.

  For a moment, the men didn’t seem to realise. And it was hard staying so limp when they were dragging her along, her head and body banging against the sides.

  But then something happened.

  “Dave? She’s gone still.”

  Dave tutted. “What’re you on about?”

  “The girl,” he said. “She—she’s gone still.”

  The two men slowed down. For a moment, Ella sensed their confusion. She sensed the questions spiralling through their minds.

  “Shit. He said alive. He said alive!”

  And then she felt the men loosen their grip.

  She sensed one of them moving down towards her, right to her face.

  And that’s when she struck.

  She wrapped her teeth around the neck of the guy right above her.

  Dug them right into his Adam’s apple.

  And as he launched back, letting out a raspy, pained scream as the taste of blood covered her lips, she grabbed his rifle from his hands.

  He was too stunned to react.

  She lifted the gun and pulled the trigger, shooting him down, right there.

  And then she turned the rifle on the other guy.

  His terrified face illuminated in the momentary sparks of gunfire etched in her mind.

  “Please—”

  But she pulled the trigger.

  Sent him splattering to the ground.

  She was in no mood to sit around waiting for excuses.

  She stood there in the darkness a few seconds. Heart racing. Sweat trickling down her face. The taste of burning in her mouth.

  And then she looked back over her shoulder, back towards those flames.

  She ran down the pipe. Clambered her way down it until she found an opening. There was one around here somewhere. She’d seen it on her way down. She wasn’t imagining things. It had to be here.

  The flames grew closer. She felt their heat. Felt them getting more intense. The smoke filled her lungs again. Her head spun. She was going dizzy. She was going to pass out. She was…

  And then she saw it.

  The opening right by her side.

  She pushed against it. Pressed the thick pipe walls out of the
way, scratching at her hand in the process.

  And then she lunged outside, fell to her knees, into the fresh air.

  She sat there a few seconds. Head in her hands. Gasping. Panting. Flames flickering all around her, and still in disbelief she’d even got out of that pipe at all.

  But she had.

  And she had to get back to Jax.

  She had to find her dad.

  She stood. Ran alongside the pipe. Her legs shook. Her body felt so weak.

  But she kept on going.

  Kept on running.

  Fast as she could.

  She didn’t look back once.

  She didn’t want to think about how close she’d come to falling.

  She didn’t want to see.

  She reached the woods. Squinted around in the darkness. She swore they were here. Unless they’d already headed down towards Lancaster. But then she hadn’t seen anyone on her way up. She hadn’t…

  She felt something against her foot, and she froze.

  She looked down.

  And she saw him.

  Jax lay on the grass.

  Staring up into the night sky.

  Eyes vacant.

  And half his head blown to pieces.

  She stood there a few seconds. Not sure what to do. Not sure what to say.

  But the longer she did, the more she saw other people lying in the grass.

  Other people.

  Sue.

  Beth.

  Even little Kevin.

  Dead.

  She stood there in the darkness, and she looked around at Lancaster. At the burning pipeline. At the flames creeping towards that community.

  And as she stood there, she tightened her grip on her rifle as a tear rolled down her cheek.

  She was going to get her revenge on Harold.

  She was going to make him pay for what he’d done.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Martin walked off into the woods and tried his best not to think about last night’s events.

  It was a cloudy morning. A real stuffiness to the air. All around, Martin saw open hills and fields. A slight mist hanging over the landscape. The sun shimmering against it, so hazy.

  He heard the footsteps of Harriet, Oscar, and Bruce by his side. And he felt grateful for them. Grateful they were here. Grateful they were alive. Of course, he did.

  But there was something else.

  Something he couldn’t stop thinking about.

  Especially not when he kept on smelling that smoke—that burning—on his clothes.

  Ella.

  Harold.

  The shelter.

  Lancaster.

  His home.

  All of it, gone.

  He kept looking over his shoulder. Back in the direction of Lancaster. He wanted to go back there. He wanted to fight for Ella. He didn’t want to just give her up. He didn’t want to just accept defeat.

  But then he remembered the deal he’d made with Harold. The deal that spared Harriet, Oscar, and Bruce their lives.

  And the deal that spared Ella her life, too.

  He didn’t know what kind of a life she’d be leading back at the shelter. He hoped and prayed Harold looked after her. Cared for her. And for God’s sake, he hoped she didn’t fight, either. Because fighting was only going to make things harder for her. The sooner she accepted her new fate, the better.

  Admitting that was just impossible to swallow for Martin.

  But what else could he do?

  What other choice did he have?

  He heard Harriet say things every now and then. Heard Oscar mutter things too. Even Bruce kept running up to him, nudging his head against his leg like he knew something was wrong.

  But Martin couldn’t say a word.

  He could only keep walking.

  He could only keep going.

  And he could only keep trying to convince himself he’d done the right thing.

  But every time he looked around at Harriet, Oscar, and Bruce, he felt another kind of pain. And that was the pain of letting them down, too.

  Because they might be alive. They might be here with him. But they’d been torn from their homes. They’d been torn from a comfortable home all because of Martin’s urgency to find Ella. To trace his daughter.

  And that urgency had cost them their lives.

  He’d failed them.

  He’d failed Ella.

  In a sense, he’d lost everything.

  Losing Lancaster.

  And losing Ella.

  It was all on him.

  “So what’re we actually gonna do now?” Harriet asked.

  Martin sighed. Shook his head. “You tell me.”

  “You can’t just say that. We need a plan. We need a—”

  “Well go make one,” Martin shouted.

  He regretted it right away. Especially when he saw Harriet staring back at him, wide-eyed. And the confusion on Oscar’s face, too.

  He looked at the ground. “I’m sorry. I just—”

  “You need to stop blaming yourself for what happened, Martin. You need to stop beating yourself up.”

  He looked back up at Harriet. Shook his head. “But I did this. If I hadn’t come out here searching for Ella, we’d still be back there.”

  “And what? We’d be living a happy life? Face it, Martin. You’ve not been happy since the day you got there, all because of Ella. The most alive I’ve seen you... it’s been since the attack. As twisted as that might be, it is what it is. Because she’s the one who keeps you going. She’s the one you’ve always fought for. Who’s spurred you on, all this time. And you’re just going to give up on her? You’re just going to let her go?”

  Martin frowned. “What’re you saying? I made the wrong call saving your lives?”

  “I’m not saying that at all. I’m just saying... you need to wake up, Martin. This isn’t the end. You know your daughter’s out there. You know Ella’s out there now. You can’t give up on her. You can bide your time. You can wait until the right moment—absolutely the right moment. But you can’t give up on her. You can’t let this defeat you. You need to step up. And you need to keep fighting. Because we’re here, remember? We’re still here. We’re together. All of us. We’ve got each other’s backs.”

  Martin stood there staring at Harriet, and he heard the truth in her words. As hard as it was to stomach. As difficult as it was to hear. He heard her truth.

  He’d pushed others away because he was afraid of losing them.

  He’d kept on pushing them away because he’d seen people disappear, time after time.

  But Harriet was still here.

  Oscar was still here.

  And Bruce was still here.

  And somewhere out there, Ella was still there.

  So he couldn’t just give up.

  He had to keep going.

  He had to keep fighting.

  He took a deep breath. Looked at Harriet. Then Oscar. Then Bruce.

  And then he forced himself to smile.

  “We’ve still got each other,” he said. “And we’ll get her back. Maybe not today. Maybe not tomorrow. But we’ll get her back. We’ll...”

  He heard footsteps behind him.

  Spun around.

  Shuffling.

  Footsteps getting closer.

  “Who’s there?”

  Nobody responded.

  He took another few steps towards those oncoming footsteps.

  “Hey,” he said. “Who’s...”

  When he saw her, he couldn’t speak.

  He couldn’t think.

  His sense of self totally collapsed, and nothing else mattered.

  Because standing opposite him, covered in thick black smoke and blood, he saw her.

  Ella.

  Chapter Forty

  Martin saw Ella standing opposite him, and he thought he must be dreaming.

  The sun peeked through the clouds, surrounded her. She looked like she’d been through hell. A deep cut on her forehead. The r
emnants of the smoke clinging to her skin. She kept on coughing, spluttering, shaking.

  But she was here.

  And she had a rifle.

  She looked at him with those tearful eyes. Stood there. Silent. And Martin felt that distance between them. That distance that time had opened up between them.

  He saw Bruce run past him. Run over to Ella. Jump up at her, lick her face, as she reached down and cuddled him, the first time they’d seen each other for months.

  And then Martin couldn’t hold himself back.

  He couldn’t resist.

  He ran towards Ella, tears streaming down his cheeks, still not believing this could be real, still not sure how this could be possible.

  She landed in his arms. Wrapped them tightly around his body. And he held her. Held her tight. Held her close. He felt her warmth. And even though this wasn’t the first time he’d held her since their reunion, it felt like it. It felt different, now. It felt like the baggage of the past was gone. It felt like they were together, now, truly. Truly together. United by tragedy.

  Harriet.

  Oscar.

  Bruce.

  And now, Ella.

  Everyone he cared about.

  The people who mattered most to him in this world.

  All here.

  “I thought I’d lost you,” Martin said.

  Ella laughed a little, amidst her tears. “I thought I’d lost you, too.”

  He moved back a little. Looked right into her eyes. “Jax,” he said. “I... I’m sorry, but he—”

  “I know,” she said, lowering her head, nodding. “I know.”

  They sat there together. Even though they were united, even though they were together, it felt like there was still sadness in the air. Sadness that came from what’d happened to Jax. Because as much as Martin wasn’t going to mourn the guy, he knew Ella had seen something else in him. Something different in him.

  “I’m sorry,” Martin said. “I know he meant a lot to you.”

  Ella half-smiled back at him. Tears and smoke stained her cheeks. “He did. And I... I think you’d have got on. In another world. I think you’d have liked each other.”

  Martin smiled back at her. He wasn’t sure about that. But he did see something in common with Jax’s worldview. And as much as he could never endorse what he’d done to the shelter, he saw why he did it. He saw what’d driven him.