After the Darkness: A Post Apocalyptic EMP Survival Thriller (Survive the Darkness Book 5)

by Ryan Casey

  And the same way she’d felt when she’d found out about her brother, Seth, and what he was responsible for.

  Only this was worse. This was far, far worse.

  She felt metal dig right into her spine. The metal of the gun, which Finn held to her back. Double-crossing bastard. He was a snake, and she should never have trusted him. She should never have followed him here.

  She just so desperately wanted to trust. She just so desperately wanted connection.

  But maybe there was a balance.

  Maybe, sometimes, she needed to learn to trust herself.

  “It appears we’ve got a bit of a problem, doesn’t it?” Robert said.

  Aoife gritted her teeth. “Doesn’t need to be a problem if you do the right thing.”

  “And the right thing would be, in your opinion?”

  “Kayleigh,” Aoife said. “My friend here. Let her go. She doesn’t want to be with you. She’s made that clear in the past. And the… the man from the helicopter, too. Thomas. Whatever you have planned with him… wherever he comes from… you don’t deserve to monopolise that knowledge for yourself. It’s not fair on the rest of us.”

  “Hold on a second,” Robert said. “Let’s just rewind here a minute. I think you’ll find you’ve killed my people. Several of my people. And you expect me to just bow to your demands? To just cave? That’s not how it works, my dear.”

  The way he spoke made Aoife shiver a little. The way those people in white stood behind him, so focused on her, but also so focused on Robert’s every word, clearly. He was exploiting these people. Clearly, they were vulnerable.

  He’d surrounded himself by vulnerable people and those in need to prop up his own regime. To tickle his own ego.

  And that disgusted Aoife.

  “My conflict isn’t with you,” Aoife said. “Others might have issues with you. And I stand with them, seeing what you’re like. But right now, there’s a simple solution. You hand Kayleigh over. You hand her over and… and as much as I want you to free Thomas, you can do what you want with him. Just as long as you let her go.”

  Robert sighed. Looked around at Kayleigh. Lowered his head. “She’s just not getting it, is she?”

  He looked back at Aoife then.

  “Kayleigh and I are in love.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “We’re in love,” he repeated, sterner this time. “And although we’ve grown… distant, and although some differences between us have opened up lately. That’s how it is. We’re in love. We’re back together. And sure. It might take Kayleigh a little… encouragement to get back to how she was. For her to remember what we had between us. But I’m sorry, my friend. There’s no way this woman leaves with you. But there is a solution.”

  Aoife held her ground. Looked over at Heather and Vince. Vince looked terrified. Heather held her ground, stared at Aoife, like she hated her for getting her into this mess in the first place.

  “Kneel, Aoife,” Robert said.

  Aoife frowned. “What?”

  “The only way you’re joining your friend here is if you join our people. Now, this isn’t an easy decision for me. It isn’t an easy decision for any of us. But we’ve reformed characters in the past. We’ve made them see the light. And besides. I’ve spoken with Thomas. I’m making a speech on his news this evening, in fact, and I don’t intend that to change. Wouldn’t you rather be around for that? To witness the beginning of something new?”

  Aoife gritted her teeth. Stood there, very still, the pressure from the pistol getting harder against her back.

  She looked at Vince.

  Looked at Heather.

  Looked at Kayleigh.

  And she knew she couldn’t just kneel.

  She knew she couldn’t just accept whatever Robert was proposing.

  She knew it would mean nothing but pain for all of them.

  “I don’t kneel for anyone,” Aoife said. “Don’t take it personally.”

  Robert’s face turned just slightly.

  He sighed.

  Lowered his head.

  “That’s a shame,” he said. “But oh well. Actions have consequences.”

  He looked back.

  Nodded.

  And before Aoife could even register what was happening, the man holding Vince cut his throat.

  Vince shook. Wailed. Heather screamed and kicked and tried to fight free as she was beaten down to the ground.

  But there was nothing Aoife could do but stand there.

  Gun to her back.

  There was nothing she could do but watch as Vince bled out onto the ground.

  Robert looked back at her now.

  Smile on his face.

  Undisturbed by anything that’d happened.

  “Now,” he said. “Would you like to think again about your decision?”

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  Aoife watched Vince twitch as he lay there on the ground, and she couldn’t get Heather’s shouts and cries out of her mind.

  The sun had disappeared behind a bunch of clouds, which had appeared out of nowhere. The afternoon felt like it’d been stretching on forever. Fuck, the day felt like it’d been stretching on forever. Even though it was still scorching hot, Aoife felt cold. Shaky. Shivering everywhere.

  All she could do was stare at Vince as he lay there. Eyes open wide and bloodshot. Fear in them. Terror. The terror of his final moments, where he’d realised how it was going to end.

  And that was on her…

  She could smell something in the air. Something creeping over in her direction in the breeze. It took Aoife a few moments to realise it was piss. From Vince. When he’d passed out. The fear, and then… well. The horror show that always followed.

  An undignified reminder of how it always ended.

  In a pile of piss and shit.

  In fear.

  There was no escaping that. Not for anyone.

  “So,” Robert said. Matter of fact as anything. As if he hadn’t just sanctioned the death of someone, and as if that man’s sister wasn’t just struggling on the ground and screaming out right now. “Any second thoughts about your decision?”

  Aoife felt her eyes stinging. She shook her aching, pulsating head. Hearing Heather’s pain at losing her brother. And knowing it was because Aoife had been stupid enough to lead them here.

  The past pain of responsibility creeping back all over again.

  Responsible for so many deaths.

  So many losses.

  Destined to end up alone.

  And now Kayleigh, sitting here.

  Her friend.

  She didn’t want to lose her too.

  Didn’t want to lose Rex, either.

  And Heather. She might be Heather’s least favourite person in the world, but she owed her right now.

  “It’s simple,” Robert said. “Get on your knees and this ends. Get on your knees, and you begin a new life. It’ll take… time. Before we know we can fully trust you. Before we know you’re on board for sure. But it’s a process. Everything is a process. And we all have to start somewhere, right?”

  Aoife shook her head. “Vince wasn’t a bad man.”

  “No,” Robert said. “I don’t doubt that for a moment. Which is why it’s even more important for you to kneel right now. We wouldn’t want more good people to fall, would we? Or… or an animal. A sweet dog like this.”

  Aoife shook her head even more. She couldn’t think of what to say. Or what to do.

  She wanted to stand up.

  Wanted to be strong.

  Wanted to fight.

  But deep down, she saw there was only one answer.

  Deep down, she saw there was only one thing she could do.

  “Kneel, my friend. Kneel. And we can begin your rehabilitation. We can begin a new process. There doesn’t need to be any more pain.”

  Aoife looked at the men standing there behind Robert, all in white.

  She looked at Heather, pinned to the ground.

  She looked at Vi
nce, bleeding out.

  She looked at Rex, held back by the lead, the collar so tight around his neck he looked like he was going to choke.

  “Kneel,” Robert said.

  She felt Finn’s gun press harder into her back, and she looked at Kayleigh.

  Spaced out.

  Swaying from side to side.

  Nothing behind her eyes.

  And as much as it wasn’t what she wanted to do, Aoife looked at the ground and got onto her knees.

  CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

  Aoife sat in the darkness and stared up at the ceiling.

  It was pitch black in here. Always was. She had no idea how long she’d been locked in here. No idea what time of day it was. It always felt cold in here, too. She always felt shivery. And the air smelled and tasted damp. She barely ate anymore. They came in on a routine and fed her some meat, but just enough to keep her alive. Just enough to stave off the hunger. She had no idea if it’d been days, or weeks, or months. She tried counting sometimes, but always ended up distracted, always ended up getting lost in thought. There was a semblance of routine. Someone would come to give her water four times before they’d feed her. Again, just enough to satiate her thirst. Just enough to relieve her hunger.

  But one thing was for sure.

  Aoife was trapped in a Groundhog Day. Alone with her thoughts.

  Alone with her memories and the guilt over everything that’d happened.

  Robert’s attempt to break her down was through loneliness. Through solitude.

  She imagined people in here with her. Max. And Rex. And Kayleigh. She imagined talking to them sometimes. Sometimes, she screamed, heard her voice echoing around this empty prison.

  But nobody ever came.

  She was alone. Completely alone.

  And there was no way out of this place.

  She’d walked around the place several times. Rubbed her hands against the solid brick walls. Looked for a weakness in the foundations. Looked for any place she could escape. She’d tried turning the handle of the rusty metal door, time and time again.

  But it was solid.

  There was no getting out of here.

  She was trapped in here.

  Trapped in this six-by-six-foot space.

  Trapped with her thoughts.

  Trapped in the darkness.

  The suffocating, claustrophobic darkness.

  So she just leaned back against the wall. Leaned back and waited for whatever was going to come next. Leaned back and waited for her next bit of food or her next bit of water. Throat dry. Shivering. Muttering to herself, just to make sure her voice still worked more than anything.

  All the time, thinking back to that day.

  To the day she’d refused to kneel.

  To the day Vince died.

  To the guilt she felt about what happened to him.

  To the pain she felt for Heather losing her brother like that and how much that was on her.

  She saw them all. Saw the flashes of all of them she’d lost, all of them she was responsible for losing. She’d talked herself out of feeling responsible. She’d learned to love herself. Learned to appreciate that this world was dangerous, and it wasn’t all on her.

  But when you were alone with your thoughts, it was pretty hard to convince yourself of that reality.

  When you were on your own because of the consequences of your own actions, just like Robert said, it was hard to see things any other way.

  She sat there against the hard, damp wall, shivering, shaking, and she wished Rex was by her side. She hadn’t heard him barking for quite some time. He used to bark a lot in the early days. And she got a kind of comfort from that.

  But the fact she hadn’t heard him bark in so long made her fear the worst.

  She wished he was here right now. His warm fur. His wagging tail. His panting, and his smelly breath, things she used to always find so annoying, but she’d do anything for right now.

  “I miss you, Rex,” she said. “I wish… I wish we’d just kept it as the two of us. I wish we’d never gone after Thomas or the helicopter. Because it was good, just the two of us, wasn’t it? It was good.”

  And then she thought of someone else.

  The person she thought of whenever she needed company.

  The person who she felt was still right there, in her heart, at all times.

  “Well, Max,” she said. “Looks like I’m still in here. Idiot for getting myself in this mess, right?”

  She swore she heard a chuckle somewhere. Because it was on her at the end of the day. Her confidence and her faith… her wanting to find someone else, it’d caught up with her. Got her in a whole swamp of shit.

  “I know what you’d say. I know. Can’t exactly fault me for trying. ’Cause you saw what I saw in the end, didn’t you? How important other people are. But…”

  She said these words, and it made her realise that for all her time searching for another group, for another community, she’d been self-reliant anyway. The very thing she’d been looking for was right there with her.

  She was good enough alone.

  And that wasn’t to push other people away. That wasn’t to resist connection or deny others.

  But it was to accept that she didn’t need anyone but herself.

  She was strong enough.

  She just missed Rex’s company.

  She missed Max’s company.

  She missed them so much.

  She closed her burning eyes. By her calculations, it was a long wait before her next round of water. Even longer for her next batch of food.

  She took a deep breath, let her mind wander off into that open space of awareness, once again.

  Then she heard something.

  Footsteps.

  Struggling.

  A door opening.

  She opened her eyes.

  Looked out into the bright light. Squinting.

  A man stood there. The man who usually brought her water and her food.

  Only he wasn’t alone.

  There was someone beside him.

  A woman.

  She looked small. Thin. At first, Aoife didn’t recognise her.

  Then it clicked.

  “Some company,” the man said.

  He tossed the woman into the small space, right to Aoife’s feet.

  Then he slammed the door.

  The darkness fell back over the room.

  But as Aoife sat there, back against the wall, she could only see those eyes burned into her vision.

  “Heather?” Aoife said.

  CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

  Aoife saw Heather’s silhouette perched there in front of her, in the darkness, and instead of feeling relieved to finally have some company after all this time, she felt something different entirely.

  She felt afraid.

  It was impossible to see her properly in the darkness. But she’d got a glimpse of her when she’d been pushed in Aoife’s cell here. Seen how frail she’d become. How skinny and weak she looked. And it never really struck Aoife until now that that’s how she must look, too. Frail. Weak. Bony. Starved and emaciated.

  And knowing Heather’s current predicament was on her—knowing it was her who’d led her here, who’d convinced her to come help rescue Kayleigh and Thomas—knowing it was because of her refusal to kneel that her brother was now dead… it didn’t make for the happiest of reunions, that was for sure.

  She could hear Heather breathing heavily. Sounded like she had something nasty on her lungs. A chest infection, something like that. She smelled of sweat. Really badly. And again, Aoife figured she probably didn’t smell much better herself.

  She crouched there. Her throat dry. Desperate for water, desperate for food. Her lips all chapped, and her stomach in knots. She hadn’t spoken to another person in… well, she didn’t know how long. She didn’t count the bloke who came in and fed and watered her, ’cause he never said anything back to her.

  But Heather…

  Heather was different.


  “Heather,” Aoife said, her voice shaky. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry for what happened. I’m—”

  A crack against her face.

  A splitting pain.

  The taste of blood in her mouth.

  “Bitch,” Heather muttered.

  “Wait—”

  But before Aoife could do anything, she felt another crack against the right side of her face. A bony crack of a fist, another burst of blood.

  And then Heather was on top of her and wrapping her hands around the side of her head.

  “He’s dead,” Heather shouted. “He’s fucking dead. Because of you. Because of you!”

  She bashed Aoife’s head against the hard floor. So hard that Aoife saw stars, felt a splitting pain right down the back of her neck. She tried to turn around, tried to swing a punch back at Heather, but she realised just how weak she was, too.

  Far, far weaker than she used to be.

  “You killed him,” Heather shouted. “You killed my brother, you bitch. You killed my brother.”

  “Heather,” Aoife cried.

  Heather’s fingernails scratched Aoife’s face. Dug right into her cheeks, then moved up to her eyes. She felt her thumbnails and then her thumbs pushing down on her eyeballs. Pushing harder and harder. The pressure getting stronger by the second.

  “You killed him,” Heather shouted. “And now you’ll die. Now you’ll die.”

  “I didn’t kill him,” Aoife shouted as the pain grew more intense, more achy. “I didn’t fucking kill him. Robert did this. Robert and only Robert. Don’t you see? This—this is what he wants. This is what all of them want. Don’t you see, Heather?”

  But she didn’t stop pressing down on her eyes.

  The pressure in Aoife’s skull getting greater.

  It dawned on Aoife that this was it. She was experiencing her eyes being gouged out. She was going to die in the most painful way, right here, at the hands of someone she’d made suffer.

  But no.

  She hadn’t made her suffer.

  “This is on Robert!” Aoife gasped. “This is on him. Don’t let him make you do this. Because you’re doing exactly what he wants. You’re doing exactly what he wants!”

  A sudden push.

  A sudden build of pressure, right across her head.