Nights of Fire: An EMP Survival Thriller (Blackout & Burn Book 2)

by Rebecca Fernfield

  The only light is from the moon and clouds, like dark galleons, shift across it as Uri navigates the narrow road to where Andy said he’d last seen Clarissa.

  Torches lit they make their way in silence, the only sound the thud of their boots and the occasional call of an owl. Finally, Bill breaks the silence.

  “Tell me again exactly what happened.”

  Andy huffs.

  “It’s important!”

  “Like I said, Clarissa wanted to see the sunset across the quarry. She said it was beautiful at that time of day and the white chalk would have a pink glow.”

  “And.”

  “And I was tired.”

  Bill grunts.

  “Alright Action Man! I wanted to take a rest—is that a crime?”

  “No, but you let her go on alone when you know that the country is in chaos. There are some seriously nasty scumbags crawling out from under their stones.”

  “We’re in the middle of the countryside—there’s no one here!”

  “Tell us the rest,” Uri urges.

  “I sat down on a log and she went further up the path.”

  “And?”

  “That’s it.”

  “And you looked for her?”

  “Yes, of course I did! It must have waited about twenty minutes and then I started to wonder when she was coming back. I waited a bit more then I went to look for her.”

  “Where did you look?”

  “I followed the path she went up.”

  “Did you go to the quarry?”

  “Yes! She wasn’t there either.”

  “Did you check to see if she’d fallen?”

  “Not at first, why would I? I just thought she’d taken a different path. When I went back out to look for her I did check over the quarry but I couldn’t see anything.”

  Uri grunts. “She knows this area, yes?”

  “I guess. She never talked about it to me but she bought it a few years ago so I guess she knows her way around.”

  “She’s an experienced climber and hill walker,” Bill adds with a snap.

  “She’ll be safe then,” Andy snaps back.

  Bill senses Andy’s growing irritation and is surprised that he doesn’t know these details about Clarissa. Andy knew, much to his disgust, that Andy had shared a bed with Clarissa, knew every job she was working on, but that he didn’t know she was a capable climber and loved the outdoors was odd. She’d kept who she really was from him.

  “Then I doubt she’s lost,” Bill continues poking at Andy’s angst. “It was still light when you lost her-”

  “I didn’t lose her! The fields and hedgerows all look the same. She lost herself.”

  Bill grunts in disgust. “It was still light when she walked ahead so, even if all the fields and hedgerows do look the same and she became lost, which is highly unlikely, then she could have used the bridge as a marker. There is no damned way she could have got lost with that bridge towering out of the water. It’s visible for miles around and from here, on this hill, you can’t miss the bloody thing.”

  “Well, I can’t see it now.”

  “That’s because it’s dark and all the lights are off because of the blackout.” Bill grinds his teeth holding back the stream of expletives he wants to hurl at the man.

  Andy grunts.

  “Da,” Uri adds, “I cannot see how she got lost. In the dark perhaps, but not in the daylight.”

  “It was twilight,” Andy adds, the tension in his voice palpable.

  “You think she is hurt then?” Uri asks.

  Bill takes a breath to ease the tightness of his shoulders and the gnawing ache in his belly. She’s not lost—that explanation doesn’t make sense. There’s nothing in this area of rural England that would be a threat to her life. The only danger is from other people. What if an opportunist had found her. No! He can’t think like that. The only real danger was the quarry. If she slipped! “Yes, Uri. I think she may be.”

  “We will find her, Bill,” Uri replies with a confidence Bill clings to.

  The path narrows until they have to walk single file. Either side, the hawthorns grow tall. Bill listens hard through the breathing and footsteps of the men. Periodically Bill commands them to stop so that he can listen to the noises in the night. The wind blows through the leaves of the hawthorn and the scurry of rats or some other small mammal in the undergrowth, and occasionally a snuffle and something larger pushing through the hedgerows, but there is no sign of Clarissa.

  After another ten minutes Andy points his torch to the side of the path. “This is where I sat for a rest,” Andy says shining his torch on the fallen log. It lies across the entrance to a field of young wheat or barley, obviously a barrier between the footpath and the farmer’s field.

  Bill grunts as he imagines Andy sitting his lazy backside down and watching Clarissa continue ahead. It didn’t make sense. He’d never sit down to rest and wait while his woman went ahead. He wouldn’t be that weak for a start.

  “How much further to the quarry?” he asks unable to keep the edge out of his voice.

  “Just up here,” Andy says shining his torch along the pathway. “I can’t tell exactly where in the dark but it’s on the right—just past a wooden bridge.”

  “Bridge?”

  “Well it’s a bridge or a reinforced footpath. At the railings you can look out over the quarry. I checked there for Clarissa but couldn’t see her.”

  “Are the railings broken?”

  “No, it’s just easy to see down into the quarry there.”

  Bill grunts and walks slowly forward until he reaches the wooden slats that sit across the pathway. He turns his torch to the railings and pushes at them. They’re sturdy and high. “No chance of a fall from here, not unless Clarissa had climbed over.” The hairs on his neck prickle. What if that is it? What if she’d climbed over the fence to get a better view of the sun setting over the quarry. What if then she’d fallen? She didn’t strike him as the type to take unnecessary risks, but … he thinks back to their conversations—of her love of hill walking and going the extra mile to take in the view—it was one of the things that made them kindred spirits—yes, she was exactly that type! Shining his torch down into the dark quarry his belly clenches. It’s at least a one hundred-foot drop to the bottom. If she’d fallen then she’d be badly hurt or worse. His mouth is dry as he turns back to the men. “Uri, Andy. Shine some light down here. I need a better look.” The torches make a hollow in the dark, lighting up a small patch of the quarry floor, but Bill can see no evidence of Clarissa. If she’d fallen he’d expect to see patches of broken stems or snapped branches. There’s nothing. “If she fell, I don’t think it was here.”

  “I agree,” Uri replies. “There is no sign of a fall—nothing broken.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Well, perhaps she’s not here then. We should check further along the road. Perhaps she’s lying hurt in a ditch? I’ve only been this far so perhaps we should check the higher roads that go over the wolds?”

  “Why would she be lying in a ditch?” Bill’s voice is scathing. “Why would she have gone over the wolds if she knew you were back here waiting for her?”

  “I have no idea. Who knows what goes on inside a woman’s head!”

  Bill swings the torch into Andy’s face and clutches the handle as he wrestles with his rising anger. He wants to swing the torch into Andy’s face and wipe that self-satisfied smirk off it—for good.

  Bill takes a deep breath that fills his lungs. “Clarissa!”

  The sound reverberates across the quarry.

  “Clarissa!” he shouts again, louder this time.

  “Claariissaa!” He forces the noise from his belly, extending the vowels until they fill the air.

  Chapter 31

  Clarissa lies at the bottom of the quarry. The pain in her ribs is excruciating and her entire body aches with exhaustion. Getting down to the bottom had taken every last ounce of energy. She knows getting home is what she must d
o, but for now all she’s capable of is lying there. Once she’s rested then she’ll move. She shivers. Her fingers are damp—the moisture taken high up into the sky by the warmth of the sun’s rays is descending back to earth. If she stays she’ll be drenched just like the dew-sodden grasses of her lawn at home in the mornings.

  She remembers herself at home, at the house in the city, hanging out the washing, the wet soaking through the canvas of her house shoes. She lies in the stillness, remembering its rooms—all gone, destroyed. All her memories, all her photographs of the girls and Reece gone! Pain rises and, unable to take a full breath, a low and wheedling noise escapes her throat. Reece! How desperately she wants him, needs him, still misses him. She catches for a tiny breath as the pain in her ribs rides roughshod over her bruised body. Perhaps … perhaps she can lie here … perhaps it’s her turn to join him? She shivers and lets the familiar pain of his loss overwhelm her. She takes another sip of air and lets the tears roll across her cheeks and disappear into her hair.

  “Clarissa!”

  A voice calling her. Is it in her memory or real? She catches her breath and listens.

  “Claariissaa!”

  Yes, there it is again.

  “Here!” The sound that comes from her throat is rasping, the voice small and tight. She coughs, takes a tiny breath, and calls her reply. “Here!” Her voice, though a little louder, is barely above a whisper.

  “Clarissa!” the voice sounds again, more distant this time.

  No! “Here!” she calls. “I’m here.” They’ll never hear her!

  Fingers scrabble at the earth. She takes a lump of chalk and knocks it against the quarry floor. It lands with a dull thud in the clump of grass at her side.

  “Clarissa!” Further away again.

  No! She searches the quarry floor, scraping the ground with the back of her hand, the rock still gripped in her palm. There! Chalk, hard and angular, juts out of the ground. She cracks against it with her rock. The sound is sharp in the night. Pain pierces her body. She groans in pain but knocks again.

  Tap! Tap! Tap! Tap!

  “I’m here!” she rasps with each knock.

  Please let them hear! Please.

  “Clarissa!” Further away? No!

  “Clarissa!” Bill shouts again. He stops and listens but can hear nothing as Andy’s shout follows his.

  “Shh!” he reprimands. “I’m trying to listen.”

  Bill swings his torch away from the quarry and walks further along the track. It doesn’t seem right that she’d continue up here. Why would she when bloody Andy was sat back there on his lazy arse? To get away from him perhaps? Had he seen them kiss? No, he was sure that was their own private moment. But what if she’d told him? He swings the torch and shines it directly into his eyes.

  “Why would she come up here on her own, Andy?”

  “I told you, she wanted to see the sunset across the quarry.”

  “And you just couldn’t be arsed to walk another hundred feet to be with her?”

  “No! For the last time, I needed a rest.”

  “You sick or something?” Bill snaps. “You got an infirmity?” His story just didn’t ring true. He takes a step towards Andy.

  Startled, Andy takes a step back and bumps up against Uri, his head barely reaching the Russian’s shoulder, a monolith of muscle, massive against Andy’s paunchy frame.

  “Something doesn’t add up, Andy,” Bill pushes. “Did she want to get away from you?”

  “No! I told you-” He stops and straightens himself rolling his shoulders. “It’s him you want to be worried about,” he says gesturing to Uri. “He’s the one who tried to kill her. He’s the contract killer. He’s the one Bolstovsky sent to kill Clarissa.”

  Bill catches his breath and stares directly into Andy’s eyes. As far as he was aware Uri had never revealed his source—never once mentioned who it was that wanted Clarissa dead—just that he’d been given the contract. It all sounded a bit too much like something out of a bad thriller for Bill’s taste but he was well aware of the workings of the Russian mafia in England. There were even documentaries uncovering the money-laundering and corruption of the oligarchs, even at the highest levels of the Russian state. It may seem far-fetched, but Bill wasn’t about to underestimate the seriousness of the situation.

  “Uri? Who is Bolstovsky?”

  “My boss.”

  “Yes, and if he doesn’t carry out the contract then his head’ll be on the chopping block,” Andy says with ire. “So, it’s not me you’ve got to worry about.”

  Bill steps up to Andy until he’s only inches from his face. “I’ve been watching you since we picked you up in the city. I’ve made a note of every conversation you’ve had. I’ve watched Uri like a hawk too. At no point have you two sat, had a cup of tea, and chatted about Uri’s job. So … tell me, Andy, how do you know about Bolstovsky?”

  Andy’s face drains of colour and sags under the torchlight. Bill watches the man’s eyes narrow as he processes his thoughts. Bill doesn’t blink for a second. Andy opens his mouth to lie.

  “I-”

  “He knows,” Uri interrupts. “Because he is on Bolstovsky’s payroll.”

  Bill stares at Uri. The moment is critical; Bolstovsky owns them both and Bill is outnumbered. If Uri turns on him he’s in trouble—perhaps more trouble than he can deal with. Show no fear! Grip firm around the hilt of his knife, he steps up to Andy and grabs his shirt. “If you’ve done anything to hurt that woman I’ll kill you with my bare hands.”

  Tap! Tap! Tap!

  Bill cocks his ear to the sound, his grasp still firm on Andy’s shirt.

  “I-”

  “Shh!”

  Tap! Tap! Tap! Tap! Tap!

  The tip of Bill’s knife makes a dimple in the soft flesh beneath Andy’s chin.

  “Clarissa!” Bill shouts. This time Andy is deathly silent.

  Tap! Tap! Tap!

  “It’s her!” Bill recognises this as a crucial moment. If Uri decides to side with Andy then they could overwhelm him and leave Clarissa out in the night with who knows what injuries.

  Andy bats at the knife. Bill’s hand judders. He was expecting a blow from Andy and his arm remains strong. Bringing the blade back beneath Andy’s chin he pushes the point into the soft flesh. Uri remains still, a massive block behind the squirming man. Bill eyes him, waiting for the moment he’ll turn.

  “Turn around and go back down the path,” Bill orders. “She’s down in that quarry.”

  Andy remains still. Bill senses his confidence.

  “Uri,” he says with a smirk. “Tell Bill how it’s going to be.”

  “How it’s going to be?” the giant asks.

  “Yes, Uri. How you’re going to fulfil your obligations.”

  Uri stares down at Andy’s head. A flicker of uncertainty crosses his eyes as he looks up and Bill’s stomach clenches.

  “If he doesn’t fulfil his obligation, Bolstovsky will make him pay. Won’t he Uri.”

  Uri remains silent and Bill watches the internal struggle playing out on his face. The next moments will decide Clarissa’s fate and that all depends on Uri and just how loyal he is, or afraid. As he stares at Uri and then Andy, Bill says a silent prayer in hope that Uri’s sense of gratitude to Jessie and Clarissa is stronger than his fear of Bolstovsky. Doubtful!

  “You’re rather quiet, Uri,” Andy says with a cockiness that Bill wants to punch out of him, “for a man who is risking the life of his family …” Andy trails off.

  Uri’s eyes narrow.

  “Don’t you remember Barker and what happened to his wife and daughter, Uri?”

  “Yes.”

  “And what about Shultz? And wasn’t it you who delivered the final message to Grekov.”

  “Yes,” Uri replies and for a moment he steps back from Andy.

  “And how many other men does Bolstovsky have at his disposal who can carry out those final messages, Uri? Probably men that aren’t as quick and thoughtful as you.”<
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  Bill is losing the battle.

  Tap! Tap! Tap!

  Bill snaps.

  “Just turn around, you scrote! Turn around and walk back along the track.”

  “I don’t think so, Bill,” Andy says with confidence despite the point of the knife digging into the dimple at the base of his throat. “Uri, show Bill what it means to piss off the Family and then go and finish off the woman.” He nods at Bill with a smirk. Uri steps away. A stone drops through Bill to the depths of his belly. Uri disappears into the dark.

  Tap! Tap! Tap!

  A massive hand reaches over Andy’s shoulder and clamps around his chin. His head jerks back as another hand clamps around forehead. Eyes wide with surprise Uri breaks Andy’s neck with sharp a twist. The body limp, Uri tosses it to the hedgerow. It lands with a thud and crack of snapped branches.

  Bill shines his torch on Andy’s lifeless body then turns back to Uri.

  “He is snake,” Uri spits.

  “Sure, but-”

  “He was last connection I had with Bolstovsky. Viktoria … she wants us to make new life. We let them think we are dead—burned in the apartment in the city—but we stay here—have a happier life.”

  “Yes,” Bill nods. He looks down once again at Andy crumpled on the ground, his head at an awkward angle and half-hidden by the grass and cow parsley growing in the hedgerow. He marvels at Uri’s deft technique. “That was one smooth move.”

  “Thank you,” Uri says. “I have much practice.”

  Bill grunts and shudders. Uri was definitely not someone he wanted to cross.

  Tap! Tap! Tap!

  “We find her now,” Uri says with determination.

  “Yes,” Bill replies with relief.

  They follow the path back along the quarry and shine their torches down the steep sides from the viewing point.

  “We need to find the entrance and look for her at ground level.”

  Twenty minutes pass before they find the road that passes the old track that leads in to the abandoned quarry. As they walk Bill calls again for Clarissa. He waits. The tapping sounds again and he follows the noise, each time he calls the tapping grows louder.