Darkness Grows: A Post-Apocalyptic Survival Thriller (After the EMP Book 2)

by Harley Tate

  “Then best of luck to you.” Walter turned and took off for the road, running as fast as he could while keeping an eye out for fallen trees and branches. He couldn’t repeat Drew’s mistake.

  He made it to the side of the road as the headlights came into full view. Without a moment’s pause he threw up his hands, waving them in huge arcs. The vehicle slowed.

  Walter didn’t know if the car approaching was his death or salvation, but he didn’t have a choice. He had to take the chance.

  Chapter Twelve

  TRACY

  Walmart

  3:00 p.m.

  There has to be a way out of here. Tracy eased back behind the end cap and slipped the shotgun off her shoulder. She didn’t want to use it. Shooting people wasn’t going to be her MO.

  No matter what happened, she would find a way to get out of there without firing a gun. Tracy wondered if Brianna and Tucker knew they weren’t alone. Had either kid seen the newcomers? Or were they going about their business, filling carts and being teenagers?

  She should give Tucker some credit; the boy was twenty, but it didn’t matter. Nineteen, twenty, twenty-one—they were all less than half Tracy’s age and still children. Madison might be brave with a good head on her shoulders and strong values, but that didn’t give her life experience. It didn’t give her the wisdom needed to make tough choices.

  Tracy forced her breathing to stay even and unhurried. Terror wasn’t something new to her. She had plenty of it growing up. The tightness in her chest. The feeling of exploding on the inside, but staying together on the outside; skin the only reason she didn’t fly apart in a million jagged pieces.

  Television shows always painted childhood as this idyllic time free from worry and fear. Tracy experienced the opposite. When her mother wasn’t high, she was strung out. The days she disappeared, leaving nothing but a jar of peanut butter and dirty dishes, were good days.

  The days she came back with strangers were the worst. Tracy pushed her memories away. Her experience growing up was one of the reasons she worked so hard to give Madison the best life. She needed to make sure it continued.

  With her hands gripping the shotgun tight, Tracy eased forward, once again checking on the men in the aisle.

  The aisle was empty.

  Tracy’s skin began to crawl. They could be anywhere. One aisle over. Across the store. Holding Tucker at gunpoint. Dragging Brianna out by her hair.

  Tracy couldn’t let anything happen to those two. With a deep breath she darted across the aisle, stopping behind the next end cap. She couldn’t be more than twenty feet away from Brianna if she was still in guns and ammo.

  Another deep breath and Tracy peeked around the corner. Empty. She ran for it without hesitating. Again, she looked, assessed, determined she could run for it, and went. One more round and Tracy could see the gun displays along the back wall.

  Unfortunately, voices came along with them.

  “What you think, Dave? How many can we fit in the truck?”

  “Hell, all of ’em, dontcha think?”

  The men laughed and Tracy cringed. They sounded close—too close. Where was Brianna? Had she heard them approach and hid? Had they already found her and knocked her out?

  She had known about the risks coming here, but now Tracy wished they had all stayed home. If she had fought harder and argued with Madison more, maybe they wouldn’t be here. Brianna and Tucker wouldn’t be risking their lives and Tracy would know Madison was safe.

  If they made it out of there alive, that was it. No more trips. No more runs. Whatever they had in the house would have to last.

  If only it could last forever.

  Tracy eased back into the aisle and crept away from the voices. She would find Tucker first and circle back. If those men did have Brianna, she would need Tucker’s help.

  The farther she backpedaled, the easier it became to breathe. Unable to hear the two men debating what guns to take and what to leave behind, Tracy could focus on the other noises in the warehouse: the intermittent squeak of her shoes on the concrete floor, the chirp of a bird trapped somewhere along the roofline, the clank of a can as it landed in a shopping cart.

  Tucker.

  Tracy headed toward the noise, bypassing bedding and clothing and a whole display of DVDs and CDs. The food portion of the warehouse spanned an entire side, with canned goods positioned up near the front. Thank goodness Tracy shopped there now and again, otherwise she would never find her way.

  As she passed the aisles of freezer cases, the noxious smell of thousands of pounds of rotting food forced her to cover her nose and mouth. It wouldn’t take long before such a smell attracted vermin, if it hadn’t already. It made her think about all the waste.

  The pounds and pounds of food companies made and packaged into plastic bags and cardboard boxes and shipped to stores like Walmart and Target and Costco in giant refrigerated trucks. All spoiled and worthless.

  At least the canned goods would keep forever. Tracy slowed as she reached the first aisle of shelf-stable products. Tucker should be right around the corner, she hoped. Adjusting her grip on the shotgun, Tracy inched toward the aisle, peeking around the corner. She caught the last glimpse of a person before he disappeared behind the end cap.

  Rats.

  Tracy couldn’t tell if she’d seen Tucker, one of the strangers, or even Brianna. She glanced behind her. Standing in the wide-open space a few aisles from checkout increased her vulnerability. Too exposed. Too easy to pick off.

  She needed cover. She would just have to take a chance that the person she saw was friendly. With a deep breath, Tracy rushed down the aisle, half-running, half-sliding across the floor. As she reached the end, she slowed, turning the corner at almost a walk.

  Not slow enough. As she turned, she collided with a body. A warm, solid body holding an armful of full-size cans. A few tumbled from his arms like potatoes from a sack.

  “Mrs. Sloane! What are you doing?”

  Tracy grabbed Tucker by the arms and shushed him. “Quiet! There’s someone else inside the store.”

  “I know. Brianna’s over in the hunting department living out her commando dream.”

  “No! I saw two men. I don’t think they know we’re here.”

  Another can fell from Tucker’s arms and landed smack on the top of Tracy’s foot. She stifled a yelp and grabbed her foot, hopping to relieve some of the ache.

  “Sorry.” Tucker set the rest of the cans down. “Where’s Brianna?”

  “I don’t know. I tried to find her in the guns and ammo area, but the two men beat me to it. It didn’t sound like they spotted her. Have you seen her at all?”

  Tucker shook his head. “No.”

  “Then we need to come up with a plan to find her and get out of here before those guys spot us.”

  “If we do find Brianna, she won’t leave without the weapons.”

  “She won’t have a choice.”

  Tucker hesitated. “We could… hurt them.”

  Tracy frowned. “Shooting someone should be the last resort, not the first idea that pops into our heads.”

  Tucker turned and glanced down the aisle. “What if they have her already?”

  “If those men lay one finger on Brianna, or you for that matter, I won’t hesitate to pull the trigger. But I’m not going to shoot first.”

  “Promise me you won’t let anything happen to Brianna. She’s the closest thing to family I have. My parents are dead. I was an only child. If it weren’t for Brianna and her family… I don’t know where I’d be.”

  Tracy gave Tucker’s arm a squeeze. “You probably wouldn’t be hiding behind a display shelf of canned salmon plotting how to sneak out of a dark Walmart in the middle of the afternoon.”

  Tucker snorted back a laugh. “You’re probably right.”

  Enough chitchat. Time to go. Tracy gave Tucker one more reassuring pat. “Okay. Let’s head toward the hunting department. We can check every aisle between here and there. Stay low and clos
e to the shelves, but don’t knock anything off. We need to be as quiet as possible.”

  “What happens when we find her?”

  “If she’s alone and they haven’t spotted us, we backtrack and sneak out the front. Those guys must have come in that way, otherwise they would have spotted the car.”

  “And if she’s not alone?”

  “Then we fight like hell until we get her back.”

  Even in the dim light, Tracy could read the expression on Tucker’s face. He trusted her. He thought she would be the ticket to safety and her ideas were the ones to follow. If he only knew that she was as clueless as the rest of them.

  Tracy hadn’t lived through very many apocalypses, and as bad as her childhood was, it didn’t count. Any idea she came up with should be vetted by people smarter and wiser. But no one was here offering up his or her services. She had to rise to the occasion. She had to be the leader.

  Tucker and Brianna were counting on her. She couldn’t mess this up.

  “Let’s go aisle by aisle. Each of us walking up and down. If she’s hiding, maybe she’ll see us and come out. If she’s not, then we can eliminate that aisle from the search.

  “Ready?” She waited as Tucker bent down to pick up a soup can in each hand.

  “Let’s do this.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  TRACY

  Walmart

  5:00 p.m.

  Why did Walmart have to be so big? After searching three quarters of the store with one eye out for the two men whooping it up in the guns department, Tracy’s hope waned. Wherever Brianna hid herself away to escape the intruders, Tucker and Tracy couldn’t find her.

  “Maybe she curled up in the blankets and towels and took a nap.”

  “With two guys firing handguns into the same department?”

  “You have a point.” Tucker hunched down close to the end of the aisle as another shot popped off.

  At least the two men cared more about goofing off than they did about scoping out the rest of the store. Every few minutes one of them would shout about the latest gun he’d loaded and the other would dare him to shoot it.

  From three aisles away, Tracy had watched them drink a case full of warm beer, crush the cans on their foreheads, and joke how they would turn the whole bedding department into one giant shooting range.

  She thought they were only kidding until one wheeled a shopping cart full of pillows and comforters into the middle of the store and took a sharpie to them, creating wobbly circle targets on every zipped-up plastic bag. Instead of prepping for the future, they were wasting ammunition and the batteries of half the lanterns in the sporting goods department just to have some stupid fun.

  Tracy inhaled and the acrid smell of fertilizer itched her nose. They were camped out in the garden department, as far away from those trigger-happy fools as they could get. But they still needed to find Brianna and get home.

  Reaching up, Tracy pushed her damp hair away from her face before tugging out the loosened ponytail and fixing it. If they ever made it out of there alive, she would either jump in the first pool they came across or sacrifice a bottle of water just to wash her hair.

  Tucker handed her a granola bar. “You should eat.”

  Tracy took the package from him, squinting to read the label. The garden section of the store received the most natural light from outside with clear windows and double doors to a small outside area. Pure Organics Chocolate Banana Bar. She glanced up.

  “Where did you get this?”

  Tucker made a face. “You do know we’re in Walmart, right? There’s a million of them back in aisle four.”

  “Right.” All this time, Tracy had been focused on gathering supplies from her section, looking for Brianna, and trying to evade the two men. She forgot Tucker had been scouring food shelves. “Thanks.”

  She unwrapped the bar and ate, washing it down with a purple pastel Gatorade Tucker pulled out of a six-pack. How many sidelines did Tracy sit at over the years, cheering Madison on as she kicked a soccer ball down the field? How many snacks did she watch her daughter eat, unwrapping the little granola bar, breaking the seal on the sports drink so she could rehydrate?

  Madison’s elementary school alone housed a thousand kids. It, along with sixteen other schools, made up the district. Thousands of kids, all living in the city, wondering when the lights would come back on. How were their families surviving? How were they coping with this potential future?

  Tracy finished the last bite and drained the bottle. Food. So simple, easy, and taken for granted. She turned to Tucker. “The only way we’re going to find Brianna and get out of here is if we make a commotion. We’re going to have to shout her out.”

  Tucker opened his mouth to respond when a gun shot cut him off. Apparently, the two men had moved onto shotguns. He tried again. “Those two idiots are drinking beer and shooting at bed-in-a-bag sets and stacks of pillows and we’re going to let them know we’re here? That’s insane.”

  “Brianna won’t leave without weapons, you said so yourself.”

  “I don’t follow.”

  Tracy exhaled. While she chewed the granola bar, a plan had come to her. It might not work, but they didn’t have a choice. Staying in the garden department of Walmart wasn’t a permanent solution. “We need to set a trap. Lead those two into it and flush Brianna out all at the same time.”

  After a moment, Tucker nodded. “I get it. Okay.”

  “Do you have any ideas?”

  Tracy could practically see the gears turning in Tucker’s head. The science geek part of him was already drawing up plans. “I’ve got one, but it’ll take some work. How do you feel about manual labor?”

  “Whatever gets the job done.”

  He smiled. “Great. Then let’s get started. We’ve got a lot of cans to move.”

  An hour later and they were ready. Tracy stepped back to marvel at their handiwork. “Do you think it will work?”

  Tucker nodded. “Even if only fifty percent deploy, we should incapacitate them.”

  “Okay.” Tracy wiped her sweaty palms on her jeans. “Let’s do this.” She picked up the shotgun from where she had left it on the now-empty shelf and smiled at Tucker. “If something happens, grab Brianna and get out of here.”

  “All of us are making it out of here alive, Mrs. Sloane.”

  “It’s Tracy, please.”

  “Fine.” He rolled his eyes. “Tracy, you’re going home today. Alive and without a single bullet hole. Is that better?”

  Tracy laughed despite her rising fear. “Yes. Thanks, Tucker. Wish me luck.”

  “You don’t need luck. You have guts.”

  Before any more doubt set in, Tracy took off, shotgun in one hand and a makeshift megaphone in the other. She thought of her favorite movie when she was a teenager and smiled before taking off, her feet pounding the concrete floor.

  She shouted into the megaphone. “I wanna be an airborne ranger!”

  As she turned another corner, she ran the barrel of the shotgun along a rack of cans, knocking them all to the floor. “I wanna live the life of danger!”

  Visions of John Bender’s hair blowing as he ran, his fingers trailing across the lockers of Shermer High, filled her mind. She smiled as she neared the main aisle, belting out the rest of the song, even when it veered away from the well-known cadence and into something as a teenage girl she blushed over.

  At last, the two trigger-happy men began to shout. Tracy cleared the final aisle and there they were, countless beers into case number two, long guns in each hand. Just stick to the plan, Tracy. Just stick to the plan.

  “Hey boys! Up for a little game? How about chase?” She took off, racing around the end cap as both men shouted again.

  “Hey! Get back here!”

  She didn’t stop. “Come and get me!”

  Their footsteps thundered behind her, four drunk and off-balance thuds for each of her two. It’s working. Tracy kept just far enough ahead, knocking cans and boxes onto t
he floor as she neared the aisle set with the trap.

  “Are you ready?” Tracy slowed as she entered the aisle, waiting until the men could see her before continuing. Please Tucker, please be ready. She raced past the spot of the trap, stopping three-quarters of the way down the aisle.

  Huffing and out of breath, both men appeared. One had a lantern in his hand and he held it up while the other gripped his knees and sucked in labored breaths. “Hey pretty lady, why the chase?”

  “To make the reward that much more special.” She shook her backside and pushed up her chest. “You do want a reward, don’t you?”

  The one with the lanterns stepped forward, but the other man grabbed his arm. “It could be a trap.”

  The man with the lantern shrugged him off. “I don’t care what it is. She’s hot and I’m horny. You can wait here. I won’t be long.”

  Tracy cursed under her breath. She needed both of them to come to her for this to work. After a moment’s hesitation, she lifted her shirt. “Come on, honey, I’ve got more than enough for both of you. Unless you want your friend to have all the fun.”

  The holdout spat on the ground and Tracy forced the smile to stay on her face. She shimmed and dropped her shirt. “Clock’s ticking.”

  At last, the man stepped forward. Yes! Just keep coming.

  She counted off their steps like she was a ticking clock, but it was more for Tucker’s benefit than anything. “One. Two. That’s it, come and get me. I won’t run anymore. I promise.”

  Both men advanced. “Three. Four. Only a little bit more. Come and give it to me.” She pouted and blew them each a kiss, trying not to gag in the process.

  “You sure about this, honey?”

  “Of course I am.”

  Only a few more steps. Come on, come on. “Five, six, seven. That’s it boys.”

  Two more feet and they were in position. Please.

  The lantern-wielding man moved ahead of his friend. The other one reached out and grabbed his arm again. “Hey! She said we both get a chance. Who says you get to be first?”