Surviving: The Complete Series [Books 1-3]

by Westfield, Ryan

  The smoke was filling the room now, plumes and clouds of dense gray stuff that she could barely see through.

  Aly’s mind didn’t dwell on her uncle. Instead, now that she directly faced the flames, her body kicked into survival mode. Her body was flooded with adrenaline.

  She barely remembered that she was injured. She pushed her way through the flames, coughing intensely, trying to ignore the intense heat that her body was desperately telling her to avoid.

  She knew that she needed to get out quickly. The smoke was too thick now.

  She had to keep pushing. She had to ignore the coughing. Her lungs were burning. The air was intensely hot. She felt like she couldn’t breathe at all.

  She couldn’t see. The air was nothing but red and gray. Nothing but smoke and flames. But she kept going.

  It felt like an eternity, but finally, her hands found the door.

  The door handle was as hot as a burning coal. But she had no choice. She grasped it and turned it, yelling involuntarily in pain as she did so.

  She was halfway out the door when she took one last look inside, thinking, hope against hope, that her uncle was somehow behind her.

  But he wasn’t. She could see nothing but the smoke and the flames.

  That last look only took a second. But it felt like a long time. But he wasn’t. She could see nothing but the smoke and the flames.

  She burst into the fresh open air, doubling over as she coughed instinctively.

  Aly saw stars as she started to vomit, the entire contents of her stomach coming up and spewing onto the ground. And she kept coughing.

  She felt weak, and the burning in her lungs wouldn’t let up.

  She was a safe distance from the house now, and she collapsed to the ground. She simply lay there on her side, gasping for breath, too weak to move or stand up.

  She was gazing back at the house, which was quickly becoming engulfed in flames.

  Those flames were engulfing not just her uncle, but all of their possessions. All that food. All those supplies. Everything that they’d worked so hard to obtain and hang on to.

  It wasn’t just terrible. It might mean the line between life and death.

  And then she remembered the stolen supplies. If they were recovered, maybe there was still a chance.

  Her thoughts turned to her husband. She felt a yearning for him, a longing, an intense hope that he was safe and alive, ready to return soon.

  From behind her, she heard a sound. The low rumbling of an engine. But not a car engine. Something bigger.

  Struggling, she flopped herself over so that she could face the driveway and the road.

  There were just a couple trees in between her and the road. She was basically out in the open.

  Her hand instinctively dug into her pocket, trying to find her pocketknife. But it wasn’t there. Maybe it’d been on the bedside table. Or maybe it’d fallen out of her pocket. She didn’t know.

  The vehicle was a familiar one. It was a single, large RV. Maybe one of the ones that had driven by earlier. Maybe not. But chances were that it was.

  What did they want? Had they seen the smoke rising to the sky from across the lake? Had they come to help or to take advantage of those in distress?

  Whatever they wanted, Aly didn’t want to deal with them. On a day like today, at a time like this, strangers didn’t mean good news. Everyone was a potential threat.

  The RV pulled partly into the driveway and crawled to a stop.

  Aly waited. She wanted to run. She wanted to hide. She wanted to do anything but be there, simply waiting.

  But she couldn’t. Getting out of the house had taken everything out of her.

  With the house burning behind her, she watched as the door opened, and two people stepped out and onto the driveway. They pointed to the house and then began scanning the surrounding area. It didn’t take them long to spot Aly. They pointed to her, and then began walking towards her.

  “Shit,” muttered Aly, clutching the knife tighter.

  “Hello there!” called out the man, speaking in a jovial way that somehow seemed completely fake. He stopped near her. A woman about his age stood next to him. “Now what do we have here?” He leaned forward, as if to get a better look at Aly.

  “Looks like we’re going to have some fun after all,” said the woman, chuckling to herself.

  “I told you not to give up hope. When there’s disaster, there’s hedonism.”

  Hedonism? What were they talking about? They seemed like strange people. Very strange. They gave off a weird vibe, and something looked strange about their eyes, as if their pupils were somehow too small.

  “Don’t come any closer,” shouted Aly, using all her energy to raise the knife, brandishing it towards them.

  “There’s no need for that,” laughed the man. “Come on. We’re not going to hurt you.”

  “Not yet, at least,” said the woman, smiling wildly. “But plenty of people find that they enjoy BDSM. I know I do.”

  “We practice a variation,” said the man. “It’s more painful.”

  “And more dangerous.”

  “But a lot more fun.”

  “For us, at least.”

  They approached her together, taking steps towards her.

  Aly was simply too weak. As they got closer, she was overtaken with a coughing fit. Her lungs still burned.

  She wasn’t even able to swing the knife before strong arms seized her arm and held it in place. Before she knew it, the knife was wrenched from her hands as the man and woman laughed.

  They kept laughing all the way back to the RV. They carried her, and she was too tired to do much more than kick a single time at one of them. But it was a weak blow and it merely glanced off the man’s side, making him laugh all the harder.

  “It’s more fun when they fight back a little, isn’t it?” he said.

  “That’s right. Now get the rope.”

  “I think it’s behind the driver’s seat.”

  “No, don’t you remember? It’s hanging up by the bathroom.”

  “I’ll get it.”

  “Get me my pills, while you’re at it.”

  “You’ve had enough.”

  “I didn’t know we were rationing now? I thought we were going out in style.”

  “Fine, I’ll get them.”

  Aly was overtaken again by a coughing fit as the woman held her down on the floor of the RV. The man tied ropes tightly around her.

  Her face was pressed against the floor. She heard the RV engine start, and felt the RV back up.

  She hoped someone would find her. Though maybe it was too much to hope for.

  23

  Jim

  Jim was more than exhausted, but as he neared the lake house and saw the plumes of gray smoke in the sky, he quickened his pace.

  He didn’t know how long he’d been walking for, or for how long he’d been away for. He still had his watch, but to his tired brain, the hands on the dial didn’t seem to mean anything. What’s more, he had no idea what time he’d left.

  He only knew that he’d been away for a long time. Long enough, apparently, for something serious to happen.

  His view of the house was, for a good while, obscured by the trees. But as he got closer, he saw more of the smoke. And he could smell it.

  Something was burning. Something big.

  And that something, whatever it was, was right where the lake house was.

  It wasn’t hard to figure out what was burning.

  Jim thought of his wife. He quickened his pace, breaking into a run.

  His muscles burned as he ran, and he felt like he was gasping for air, but he kept going.

  When he finally came around a group of trees, he saw the house. He saw the flames, rising high.

  It was immediately clear there was no saving the house. It was an inferno, burning hot and wild. There’d be no entering that house without dying.

  Jim’s eyes immediately began scanning the yard and the surroundin
g area, hoping to see someone, hoping to see Aly.

  But there was no one.

  Jim didn’t let himself panic. That’d only make him less effective. He focused on his breathing, keeping it as calm and steady as he could in his state.

  And there it was. A sound. Beyond the roar of the fire, he heard it. It was an engine. Rumbling and low. But not that far off.

  Jim didn’t waste any time. He sprinted as fast as his exhausted body would allow down to the driveway. By the time he reached the road, he was panting and out of breath.

  But it was worth it. Down the road, he could see it.

  The RV.

  It was far enough away that it looked small. He couldn’t make out the markings, but the size and shape of it looked just like the RV he’d seen earlier.

  The RV was too far away to get a shot off. He’d miss by a mile.

  But it wasn’t too far to run after.

  Sure, there was every chance in the world that he wouldn’t catch up with them. He was just one lone man, tired and exhausted, trying to catch his breath. And he’d be up against a diesel-burning RV, with who knows how much horsepower.

  And Jim didn’t even know who was in the RV. It was a long shot. His wife, not to mention the others, might be dead in the burning house right now. Or close to dying. But Jim had no chance of rescuing them if that was the case.

  If they were in that RV, taken prisoner or hostage, then there was at least a chance of rescuing them.

  It wasn’t the kind of strategy that worked in poker. But it sometimes worked in real life.

  There were so many “ifs” that it all seemed crazy.

  But he had to try. No one else was there. There were no other options.

  Jim didn’t waste any time. He’d made up his mind. He started running.

  He was already losing sight of the RV. It didn’t seem to be going fast, but it was going a lot faster than he was.

  But he kept going.

  After all, if there was a chance, however small, that he could save someone, or do something, then he had to take it. Worrying about the fire, the burning fire, and all the problems that would result from it, was pointless now. Completely and utterly pointless. And not just that, but an actual determiner to what he could potentially accomplish.

  The day had been a long and gray one. The sun wasn’t yet setting, but the light was already getting low.

  Jim had already been through his second and third wind. He didn’t have a fourth one in him.

  But he still ran.

  He was pushing with everything he had. His stomach was empty. His throat was dry from not drinking anything in ages. His head ached and his vision was blurry around the edges.

  He kept his eyes focused on the RV.

  And somehow, as he kept running, he was getting closer to the RV. It wasn’t just a little speck at the very edge of what he could see. It was getting bigger. Slowly, yes, but surely.

  Had the RV stopped?

  He kept running, and after a couple minutes, he was sure that the RV had stopped. He was getting closer with each step. He just had to push.

  By the time he got there, he felt like he might collapse right onto the ground.

  The RV was just sitting there, parked with two wheels off the road and two wheels on it.

  Jim had his gun in his hand. His finger was inside the trigger guard. Right on the trigger. Already putting just the slightest bit of pressure on it. Maybe not the best practice. But these weren’t the safest of circumstances. His life might depend on a split-second reaction.

  Jim pushed the door open. It swung wildly and slammed into something.

  Someone screamed. A woman’s voice.

  Jim leveled the gun, holding it with both hands. His legs were shaking, and so were his arms. But he tried to keep everything steady, spreading his legs shoulder-width apart.

  Aly was on the floor in the space that functioned as the kitchen. She was face-down, with ropes binding her.

  Jim recognized the other two people. They were the creepy couple he’d encountered earlier. He should have known they’d be trouble. Maybe he had known.

  The woman had her hands in the air. She’d been the one who’d screamed.

  The man didn’t react at all. He looked like he was on drugs, with his face going all droopy in a weird way. “I thought you’d never come,” he slurred. “Now we can really have some fun. Put that silly gun down and come join us on the bed. We’ll untie this woman when she’s ready. She looks like she’d be plenty of fun. Don’t you think?”

  From the ground, Aly let out a muffled scream of “Help me.” Her face was pressed against the floor.

  Meanwhile, the woman still had her hands in the air. But she wasn’t standing still. She was inching towards the small microwave and the kitchen sink.

  Jim’s mind was jumpy with fatigue. His body was switching between feeling like he might fall asleep and as if he was pumped up on adrenaline. He was shaky and felt like he might simply collapse, no matter what state his mind was in.

  He saw her hand moving in a jumpy way, as if it was lit by a strobe light. But he wasn’t going to let his fatigue interfere.

  She already had the kitchen knife in her hand.

  Jim was acting slowly.

  But it wasn’t too late.

  Jim trained the gun on her. Pulled the trigger.

  She fell to the ground, the knife clattering somewhere on the floor.

  Aly cried out, not able to see what was happening.

  The man on the bed was somehow no longer on the bed.

  Jim must have been really losing it. Losing his mind to extreme exhaustion.

  The man was almost at Jim, his face contorted into some insanely intense emotion. He was scrambling, his arms flailing.

  Jim was barely keeping it together. He was just getting flashes of what was happening, all of it jumbling together like a bad dream.

  But he knew what he had to do.

  His muscle memory wasn’t going to let him down. All those hours at the target range had been for something, after all.

  The gun was as steady as it was going to get. It was aimed right at the man, who was inches away from Jim.

  Jim squeezed the trigger.

  The man fell. Right at Jim’s feet.

  Jim didn’t know if he was dead. So he gave the body a kick to see if it would respond. It did. The man grunted in pain. Jim pressed the gun into the man’s temple and pulled the trigger.

  Now he was dead.

  Next, Jim moved to the woman. She was already dead. Blood was pooling up around her.

  Jim grabbed the kitchen knife from the floor and cut Aly loose. She smelled like fire, and there was soot all over her. She looked exhausted and in pain.

  Jim pulled her to her feet.

  “You OK?” he said.

  She nodded. “I was expecting you.”

  “Sorry if I was late.”

  “I’m fine. You came just in time.”

  “The others? Were they in the house?”

  “Rob and Jessica... they were gone... don’t know where... It was just Jordan. He was passed out. I tried to... I couldn’t...”

  Jim put his arm around his wife and held her close to him. They were both unsteady on their feet, but somehow they managed to remain standing.

  “What do we do now?” said Aly.

  “I don’t know.”

  24

  Rob

  Rob was feeling a little better. He hadn’t really hit his head that hard. Instead, it had just been the shock of the accident that had somehow made his brain go all weird and fuzzy. He was annoyed and upset at himself. He felt like he’d been weak.

  Jessica had tried to convince him that it wasn’t the case, but eventually she got annoyed of constantly trying to make him feel better, and they spent the next couple of hours walking together in silence back to the lake house.

  The motorcycle had not been salvageable. So they’d just opted to leave it there along with the Subaru.

  Th
ey’d taken what few items from the Subaru that might prove useful sometime in the future: some flares, a knife that had been in the glove box, two LED flashlights, and a couple of energy bars that Jim had apparently stashed by the spare tire years ago, forgetting about them. They were a few years past the expiration date, not that it mattered in times like these. They might end up tasting a little stale, but it’d still work for calories.

  It was night now, the sun having set hours ago. There was a chill to the air. They walked along the roadside, and not a single car passed.

  It was a dark night. The clouds were out, and they had to use their flashlights to see. But they didn’t keep them on all the time. Instead, they just flicked them on when they needed. This way, they’d preserve the batteries, and also make themselves less visible for whoever might be out there.

  It was strange, passing houses that were completely dark. They should have been used to it by now, but they weren’t. Or at least Rob wasn’t. Jessica wasn’t talking, after all.

  Jessica was good with directions, and she led them.

  Finally, after what seemed like an entire day of walking, but had really just been several hours, they were getting close to the lake.

  It felt good to almost be back. Rob’s legs were aching just from the walk alone. He couldn’t remember a time that he’d walked this much, let alone on so few calories.

  Before the EMP, he’d been content to lounge on the couch, throwing back a couple beers, watching whatever happened to be on. He’d really liked watching nature shows, the ones where they show animals savagely devouring each other. Back then, the natural world had been something to marvel at, not something to participate in.

  Now Rob and his friends were just like those animals. They were going to eat or be eaten. Not literally, of course. Well, so long as things didn’t get really bad. Not that Rob would ever do that. The idea repulsed him. But he wouldn’t put it past others. People were sick and messed up, no matter who they were or where they came from. Rob had known that for a long time. At every job he’d ever managed to hold onto for a couple weeks, he’d inevitably find that some normal-seeming coworker was, in fact, nothing more than a psychopath in disguise. Or, at the very least, someone with very serious problems.