Avenge the Darkness: A Post Apocalyptic EMP Survival Thriller (Survive the Darkness Book 4)

by Ryan Casey

  William walked down the corridor towards the room where they were keeping the women and wondered where the hell Kent was at.

  He’d given him ten minutes. Ten damned minutes to do his worst. And sure, he knew what Kent was like. He knew he could push his luck sometimes.

  But this… it’d been half an hour, maybe longer.

  And the weirdest thing?

  William hadn’t heard any screams.

  Which was especially weird where Kent was involved. Like he said, he knew what he was like.

  “Where the hell’re you at?” he muttered as he charged down the corridor, fists tensed. He was looking forward to dragging him out of there. Roughing him up a bit for breaching his rules. Sure, Kent was bigger than him. Kent was bigger than everyone.

  But he knew where he stood in the pecking order.

  Which made giving him a beating even more satisfying.

  Even more liberating.

  He reached the door when he noticed something and stopped.

  There was blood on the floor, right by the door.

  William paused a second. He had no idea whether that blood had been there already. Kind of lost track in a shithole like this.

  It could just be blood from Kent doing his thing.

  Or…

  No.

  It was impossible.

  It couldn’t be them.

  He knocked on the door. Heard an echo amidst the silence. “Kent?”

  Nothing.

  He pushed the door open, not wasting any more time. Not holding back for anyone. Not giving a shit about what he might walk into, what he might find.

  When he opened the door, he froze.

  Kent lay there on the floor. His eyes were open wide. He was lying in a pool of his own blood.

  The women were nowhere to be seen.

  “Fuck,” William said. He was going to have to alert the rest of the guys. Going to have to give them a heads up. Those women, they couldn’t escape. How the hell had they been allowed to escape?

  He marched out of the room, back towards the doors. “How the fuck did you let ’um get away, Kent? How the fuck could you be so fucking stupid?”

  He walked out the room. Pushed open the door on the right, where he knew Dave and Wolfy would be.

  “They’ve got out,” William barked. “Kent let ’em get away, and you’re tellin’ me you didn’t hear a thing? You’re tellin’ me…”

  He stopped. Froze, again, completely.

  Because he could see Dave and Wolfy.

  But there was something wrong.

  Both of them sat there in those chairs they always sat in, slumped over.

  Both of their eyes had been gouged out. Dark red blood, all gungy, stuck to their cheeks.

  William felt a shiver up his spine. Because he knew what’d happened here. And he knew who’d done this.

  And if those two bitches had taken out Kent, then taken out these two idiots, then they’d have a free pass at escaping this place.

  Just a case of running down the hallway.

  Of going downstairs.

  Of finding a window low enough to get out of.

  He needed to stop them. This couldn’t have happened long ago.

  He needed to stop them—fast.

  He turned around when he saw them standing there.

  They were right there, right in front of him. Both of them. Together.

  Blood on their hands.

  Both of them looked at him with this expression on their face. Not a look of defeat. Not even a look of anger.

  But a look of… accomplishment.

  Of strength.

  Almost like they were enjoying this.

  And it gave William the creeps.

  “Well,” William said. “Quite the turn of events, huh?”

  The pretty one, Aoife, came at him fast.

  Lifting a blade.

  “Ah,” he said. “I wouldn’t. Not if I were you. One shout and the rest of my men are here in a flash.”

  “Bold to assume the rest of your men are still alive,” the feisty one, Grace, said.

  William smirked at that. But for a second, he wondered. They couldn’t have, could they? All his people? All his men? There were only eight of ’em. Smaller the group, the better. But now nine was six.

  What if?

  “So what happens now?” William said. “Sounds like you two have really thought this one through.”

  They looked at each other, the pair of them. There was this weirdness to how they looked at each other. Not in a friendly way at all. But like there was something there. A bond of some kind—a bond that William wasn’t entirely sure was built on respect.

  Then, they looked back at him.

  “You know what happens now,” Aoife said.

  She stepped forward, and she rammed the blade into his throat.

  He tried to push back. Tried to fight as the taste of iron filled his mouth. Tried to scramble free. Tried to bleed.

  But then the other woman buried a blade in his chest.

  And then the other one in his stomach.

  And again and again and again, repeatedly as the strength drifted from him, as it melted away…

  He hit the floor. Entire body in agony. Desperate to breathe. Desperate to fight.

  But all he could do was lie there in that growing puddle of his own blood.

  Vision fading.

  Everything around him slipping away into the darkness.

  And all he could do was stare up at those two women who’d done this to him.

  Aoife spat on him.

  Then, the other woman spat on him too.

  “You made a mistake underestimating us,” Aoife said.

  Then she kicked him in the stomach, kicked him where he’d been stabbed, hard.

  He let out a gargled yelp.

  Then he saw the other woman, Grace, pull her foot back.

  He saw it heading towards his face in slow motion.

  He felt time slow down.

  Felt his whole life flashing before his eyes.

  And at that moment, at that single damned moment, William felt something more prominently than he’d ever felt in his entire life.

  He felt sorry.

  Grace’s boot kicked him.

  Pain.

  Then, total darkness.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  “So what now?” Grace asked.

  Aoife looked down at William as he lay there on the floor. Beside him two more of his people. In the room they’d escaped Kent.

  “We have no idea how many more he has,” Aoife said.

  Grace nodded, shrugged. “I’m sure we’ll handle whatever he throws at us.”

  “But we need to be careful. We can’t be complacent. We’ve got through the hardest part, but we can’t let our guard down now.”

  Grace nodded again. Like she was taking on board what Aoife was saying. It was weird, really. Hearing her express this degree of approval. Working together with her. It just felt wrong. So, so wrong, after everything she’d done. After everything that’d happened. After all the baggage between them.

  But they were in this together, this escape.

  And in a weird way… Aoife knew Grace was right.

  They had to get out of this place, because the pair of them deserved better than to die at the hands of these twats.

  They had their own differences to settle. Their own baggage to resolve.

  And whoever fell, whoever died, whoever was the victim… well, it didn’t really matter just as long as one of them got their revenge.

  That’s what this felt like now.

  “Either way, we need to get out of here,” Aoife said. “Doesn’t matter how we do it. Someone’s going to find the bodies. And when they do, when they find out two of their prisoners have done this, they’re going to be especially pissed.”

  Grace grunted a little bit at that. Almost sounded like a laugh.

  “Wow,” Aoife said.

  “What?”

  “N
othing.”

  “You said ‘wow’. I’d appreciate it if you told me what that was about.”

  “It’s just… well. I guess I’ve never heard you laugh before. Never heard you express any kind of happiness before.”

  Grace stared at her with those piercing green eyes. She didn’t look amused. Or maybe that was just her face.

  “I’m sorry,” Grace said. “Making jokes with the woman who disfigured me beyond recognition and slaughtered my people doesn’t exactly come easily.”

  Aoife looked down. “Yeah. My bad. Don’t know why I said it. Can we go back to hating each other now?”

  “I was joking,” Grace said.

  “Oh. It’s… it’s kind of hard to tell sometimes. Anyway…”

  She walked past Grace. She didn’t like this exchange. It felt too cordial. Too polite. Too… human.

  And that complicated things. Because this was supposed to be the woman she despised. This was supposed to be the woman she hated.

  They might be working together now. But make no mistake about it, the second they got out of here…

  Aoife heard footsteps.

  Grace looked at her. The mood instantly shifted to something uncomplicated again.

  “You hear that?” Grace asked.

  Aoife nodded. “They’re coming this way.”

  She tightened her grip around the blade, saw Grace do the same.

  “If they come in here…” Aoife started.

  “They won’t.”

  “And how can you be sure of that?”

  Grace looked around.

  Then at the floor. Like she was trying to come up with something. Like she was trying to figure out what to do next.

  And then she looked at William’s body. “We need to move him.”

  “What?”

  Grace got to the shoulders. “We need to drag him out in the hall. If they find him, they’ll go into the room we were in. And then we have a chance to run.”

  “I’m not sure—”

  “Come on, Aoife. Don’t fucking dilly dally here. We both want to get out of this. Help me out.”

  Aoife shook her head, then rushed over to William.

  Grabbed his ankles. Tried to lift him, but he was quite weighty, quite hard to shift.

  “He’s too heavy.”

  “Oh, don’t be a little bitch about it,” Grace said. “Come on. Through the door. Just drop him outside. He’ll draw them towards the room we were in.”

  Aoife gritted her teeth, used all the strength she had to drag the body through the door. “I’m not sure about this.”

  Those footsteps getting closer.

  Those voices getting closer.

  She stepped out after Grace, William’s bleeding body between them, and suddenly felt vulnerable in the corridor. Suddenly felt on show.

  “Quick,” Grace said. “They’re coming.”

  They dragged him further through the door, over towards the door near the room where Kent was.

  Dropped him.

  Then they turned around and saw them.

  Two men.

  Weren’t looking yet. Seemed miles away.

  But two of them.

  Walking up some stairs and heading their way.

  “Back in there,” Grace said, pushing Aoife.

  Aoife tumbled back into the floor.

  Saw Grace pull that door shut, right behind her.

  She crouched there. Silent. Listening to those footsteps.

  Those voices.

  “This better work,” Aoife whisper. “This better fucking…”

  She heard it.

  The shouting.

  The confusion.

  The footsteps turning to jogs.

  “What the hell? It’s the boss. It’s the fucking boss.”

  Aoife could hear them right outside the door.

  She knew they were close. So close. A stone’s throw away.

  Go look for Kent. Go look for us and go look for Kent. Don’t come in here. Don’t…

  “Why the hell did Wolfy not hear? The fucking deaf bastard.”

  And then something happened that filled Aoife with total fear.

  That made every inch of her body sink.

  She saw the handle to the door turn.

  And saw the door to the room she and Grace were in start to open.

  Chapter Forty

  Aoife held her breath as the door to the room she and Grace were in opened, just slightly.

  She clutched the knife. Readied herself for anything. She knew what she had to do. She knew there was only one way out of this.

  To fight.

  She watched that door open even more when she heard something. Time standing still.

  The door stopped.

  A voice.

  “Fuck. They’ve fuckin’ got Kent!”

  And in that instant, the door stopped opening.

  It swung shut.

  Aoife heard footsteps rushing towards the double doors that Kent’s body was behind.

  She heard them rushing into that room.

  And she knew now was the moment.

  Now was the chance.

  “Come on,” Grace said. “Out of here. Right now.”

  They ran. The pair of them bolted, out the door. Didn’t look back to see if anyone was chasing them. Didn’t stop to see if anyone was coming after them.

  They just ran down that corridor together.

  Making a break for the stairs.

  She ran towards the stairs, almost reached them when she heard the door swing open.

  Heard the voices.

  “They’re there! Stop ’em!”

  “Shit,” Aoife said.

  Both threw themselves down the stairs, fully aware they were being chased now. Fully aware that there wasn’t much time at all. They had to keep going. They had to make a break for it.

  They ran down the stairs. Looked around for more steps. Down the next set of stairs, Aoife could hear voices. See movement.

  “They’re coming from both ways,” she said.

  They stood there, the pair of them. Right there in this dirty old corridor. Men approaching from upstairs and from downstairs.

  They were trapped.

  They were…

  And then it hit her.

  “The window,” Aoife said.

  Grace turned around. Frowned. “What about it?”

  “It’s smashed. It’s… We can make that drop.”

  “Are you sure? It looks a hell of a fall.”

  “Do we have any other choice?” Aoife shouted.

  Grace stood there, and she sighed. Nodded. Footsteps getting closer and closer.

  “We’ve got to make a decision, Grace. We’ve got to make a decision right this second. We can’t just stand here. Can’t just stay here. We have to get out of here. Right now.”

  Grace looked at Aoife with a blankness to her eyes. In a way she’d never looked at her before. “Yes,” she said. “Yes, we do.”

  She looked around at the drop.

  Then looked back at Aoife.

  “Go on. You first.”

  Aoife gritted her teeth.

  Went to run towards the window to throw herself out of it.

  And right at the death, she felt something.

  A hand, dragging her back.

  Yanking her back.

  “Not so fast,” Grace said.

  And then she felt it.

  A hot burst of pain in her upper right thigh.

  She screamed. Screamed and collapsed to the floor. There was nothing else she could do. The pain. The agony. Growing more and more intense by the second.

  She looked up and around at Grace, who stood over her, bloodied blade in hand.

  “Maybe they can have their fun with you,” she said. “Maybe they can put you through hell. And maybe when they’re done with you… I can finish you off.”

  She looked back as the sound of the footsteps approached.

  “They’re going to be really pissed with you for what you’ve do
ne to their people.”

  And then she turned around, stepped out of the window, and disappeared into the darkness.

  Chapter Forty-One

  Aoife sat in the chair in the darkness and had no idea how long she’d been here.

  Only that she wanted a drink of water. Desperately.

  She was blindfolded. She couldn’t see a thing. Had no idea where she was, only that she was tied to a chair, which she’d been sitting in so long that it actually hurt. She felt weak. Totally exhausted. Her leg, which had been stabbed, ached like mad. Unconsciousness rose and fell. She had no idea what was real and what wasn’t real anymore. Even her dreams were doused in darkness.

  The only thing she knew was that she’d been here for a long, long time. And it felt like she was never getting out of here.

  She hadn’t been sexually assaulted. That was a small comfort. Something she’d feared when Grace stabbed her, left her behind. The four men who’d caught up with her—the two from upstairs, the two from downstairs—had been rough with her. They’d punched her for what she’d done. Kicked her. Left her feeling like total shit. But thankfully, anything sexual didn’t seem to be on the table, something that relieved her in a horrible kind of way.

  Because if what she was going through right now was a relief… she couldn’t bear to think of what it’d be like if things got even worse.

  She kept on replaying everything that had happened. Kept on drifting back to that moment. The moment she and Grace reached the open window. The moment she’d told Grace they needed to jump. That they needed to escape. Needed to get the hell out of this place.

  Going to jump and then feeling the sudden burst of pain in her leg.

  Seeing Grace staring down at her.

  Betraying her.

  She really believed Grace when she told her that she wanted revenge so dearly that the pair of them were going to get out of this place first before resolving their differences. But she supposed that was another betrayal in itself. Really, the fate Grace had left her to was far, far worse than anything that Grace could do to her individually.

  And the horror that worse things were to come kept on haunting her, kept on robbing her of sleep.

  But despite all this, despite how trapped she was, how exhausted she was, how weak she was… it was six months ago that her thoughts kept on returning to. What she’d done to Grace’s people. How she’d trapped them. How she’d burned them. How she’d gone against the estate’s decision and taken matters into her own hands, and all the consequences that followed.