Darkness Ahead of Us | Book 1 | Darkness Within

by Spencer, Leif

  Through the bushes, she spotted something on the road and narrowed her eyes, pulling a branch to the side for a better look.

  Just a motorbike.

  Where was Sarah? When the army vehicle had pulled up outside her flat, Anna had hoped to see Sarah. It would have been just like her sister to convince a soldier to drive her across Essex—but no, it had been Chris. Even if her sister had only walked five to seven miles a day, she should have been in Harlow by now.

  Images of her sister dead in a ditch, or lying somewhere and slowly bleeding out, flashed through Anna’s mind and she winced.

  She’d never forgive herself if her sister was hurt.

  She’d promised her mum she’d look after Sarah. She’d promised.

  As children, they hadn’t liked each other. Their father had adored Sarah and abhorred Anna. As the golden child, Sarah had been showered with praise. He’d fulfilled her every wish.

  Their mum had brought them together, taught them to love each other and look after each other.

  But Anna had fled and left her childhood home as soon as she had been able to.

  Anna sniffed, her thoughts drifting back to Oreo and the way he’d sat by the door when she left, hanging his head, whining softly. He’d been her companion for years. He had always made her feel safe, and he’d even driven away the occasional, awkward late-night flirting attempt with his bark.

  But if she had to hide from someone and keep quiet?

  Just like most Border Collies, Oreo was vocal whenever he felt anxious or threatened, and considering the way the world had changed overnight, his nervous bark would likely have given her away at the wrong moment.

  And while Chris was indeed a stranger, she had a son to protect, and Oreo was the perfect guard for the flat. He’d never missed anyone coming up the stairs. Always barked.

  Unless it was Sarah.

  Whenever Sarah visited, he’d wag his tail, spinning around by the door.

  Oreo would help Chris look after her son, and he’d wait for Anna to come back.

  Not that Chris needed any help.

  She’d left a dead husband at home, grabbed her teenage son and somehow convinced a soldier to drive her from one end of Harlow to the other.

  Anna wondered what she would have done, had she been in Chris’ shoes. Probably not told my husband that I wished he’d kill himself. Anna snorted.

  She’d seen a hardness in Chris’ eyes, and the deep lines around her mouth gave Chris the appearance of someone who was eternally bitter. The timid smile she’d flashed Anna every now and then was almost certainly for show, and the way she pursed her lips as if sucking lemons fuelled that suspicion.

  That didn’t necessarily mean she couldn’t be trusted.

  Anna hadn’t mentioned the food packets hidden in her wardrobe, not wanting to reveal everything about herself just yet, but—how far would a mother go to protect her son?

  Anna’s longest relationship had lasted six years before they’d broken up because she hadn’t wanted children. He had. They’d both known from the very first date, but they’d both thought they’d change each other’s minds.

  Alas, they hadn’t been able to.

  They’d broken up five years ago. Anna had lived alone ever since. Other people made her uncomfortable. She preferred Oreo and her shelves filled with books.

  A thought entered her mind. Did she owe it to her father to check in on him?

  Did she owe anything to someone who had made her childhood miserable? Who’d been nothing but abusive? Did she owe the man who’d flushed her mum’s ashes down the toilet any courtesy?

  Chris had offered to get some insulin from the hospital.

  No.

  Anna came to a halt under a tree that shielded her from the rain and pulled out the map she’d found in her loft along with her camping gear. She traced the roads with her index finger, squinting as she rotated the map.

  Which way was north again?

  She’d hoped to walk the forty miles in two days. Studying her progress on the map, she snorted. Blisters were forming on her heels, and she’d walked, at most, eight miles.

  When the first rays of sunlight had drifted in through her window, Anna had said goodbye to Oreo and slipped outside, avoiding the soldiers patrolling the road in front of her house. She’d crept along side streets, keeping close to buildings.

  She’d stopped for the first time by the river an hour later. Rested for a moment.

  Sarah should have been in Harlow by now.

  Anna couldn’t shake the feeling that something awful had happened.

  Or she went to check on Dad.

  Again, that nagging thought. A pang of guilt made her wince.

  “You don’t owe him anything,” she muttered, glancing up at the sky. The rain was growing heavier, fat drops rolling off her jacket. Wiping the sweat from her brow, she scowled. “You don’t owe him anything.”

  Anna had never believed that and always struggled with the feelings her father evoked in her.

  She sighed and shook her head.

  Sarah first. She’d deal with her father later.

  She’d have to sleep outside, find shelter somewhere halfway. Away from housing. Away from the road. Ten miles to go until she could rest.

  At least it wasn’t cold.

  Every bone in her body ached when she woke up the next morning. Sitting up, she massaged her shoulders, slowly stretching her neck until the tendons popped.

  She’d stumbled upon the bench by nightfall, too exhausted to eat, and had simply curled up in her sleeping bag.

  She pulled out her map. Twenty-five miles to go before she’d reach Colchester. The previous day she’d followed the route of the A120 and had kept close to the road. It circled Braintree, but Anna worried there might be police or soldiers patrolling the exits.

  She didn’t want to risk being spotted and taken into custody for ignoring the curfew.

  Not after what had happened to her neighbour.

  Anna buttoned her jacket and shouldered her bag. The rain had stopped at some point during the night, and the occasional gap in the grey clouds allowed the sun to peek through.

  She walked along a field, away from the road, searching for a footpath. Her heels burned where the blisters had popped.

  A dull ache spread from her knee to her hip. Every step hurt. When had she got so old?

  Wet fabric stuck to her skin and she shivered. Her nail beds had turned blue. Her trousers were chafing the skin of her thighs. If only she’d brought a change of clothes.

  She hummed a song to distract herself.

  Once she passed Braintree, she could get back onto the road and follow it straight to Colchester. She could do this. She had to.

  She’d find Sarah and—

  Her foot hit something soft, and she stumbled. She caught herself and a jolt of pain surged through her knee. “What the—” She looked down. A sob escaped her lips, and she pressed her palm against her mouth.

  A woman was lying in the tall grass. Blood had seeped from a hole in her forehead down her temple and into her brown hair. Her eyes were staring up at the sky, wide open and lifeless.

  There was another body next to her, his arm draped across her waist. He’d been shot through the chest. The blood had dried on his shirt.

  At his feet lay a third body. Another woman. She was lying on her stomach, her blonde hair crusted with blood. A chunk of flesh was missing from her thigh, exposing white bone.

  Flies buzzed, settling on the bodies.

  Anna sobbed, her shoulders shaking. She turned, searching the field. Behind her, near a small patch of woodland, she spotted a farmhouse. The fence ran along the edge of the field.

  A curtain twitched. A dog barked.

  Anna ran towards the road, away from the farmhouse.

  Being allowed to protect their livestock meant that farmers often owned guns. Was that what had happened here? Farmers protecting their property?

  Would this be the new normal? Bodies littering t
he streets and fields? People defending their homes?

  Anna hoisted herself over the fence and onto the road where she stopped, panting. She placed her hands on her thighs, waiting for her breathing to slow.

  Had the army already lost control in parts of the country? How many people owned guns? How many were prepared to kill to protect their families?

  Was the prime minister still in charge?

  Was there still a government? How many people would patiently wait for them to introduce food rations, only to realise that there was nothing to ration.

  Where would we go? she’d asked Chris the night before. Anyone who had a safe place to offer would defend it, just like that farmer had defended his land.

  She pulled out her map. Perhaps walking along the road—

  “Hello,” a voice said.

  Anna dropped her map. Her heart leapt into her throat, pounding. Her hand closed around the can of pepper spray in her pocket.

  A man stood in front of her. She hadn’t heard him approach.

  She should have taken Oreo. If only she’d taught him to stay quiet, but living alone, she’d encouraged his barking.

  “Stay back,” Anna commanded, but her voice came out as a squeak. “I’m armed.”

  The stranger smiled and lifted both of his arms, palms open. “I didn’t mean to scare you.” He wore proper hiking boots and had a blue rucksack strapped to his back.

  Anna swallowed. “What do you want?”

  10

  “How long is the silent treatment going to last?” Chris asked, nibbling on an oatmeal bar. She stacked the remaining Tupperware containers on Anna’s kitchen windowsill. At her feet, Oreo licked the crumbs off the kitchen floor, then sat and watched her chew, licking his lips.

  Tom sat at the wooden table in the small dining room. The surface was cluttered with laptop parts and piles of tiny screws. Pressing his lips into a thin line, his tongue poking through every now and then, he tinkered with his computer.

  “Can you fix it?” Chris asked.

  Tom didn’t reply. He’d ignored her all morning. With his brows furrowed, he removed another part from inside his laptop, studied the cables underneath and sighed. “If only I had the Internet.”

  He looked up and scowled upon noticing Chris’ stare. He chewed on the inside of his cheek as if trying to convince himself to talk to her. Looking back at the laptop part he was holding in his hand, he flipped it over. “Is there a library nearby? Dad only taught me how to replace broken parts, not how to fix them.”

  Chris swallowed. He couldn’t even look at her. When he was younger, he’d always preferred her company over Lester’s. Always stayed near her. Showered her with hugs and kisses. Now…

  Chris forced herself to smile. “I doubt it’s op—”

  “You have your NHS badge.” Tom pulled his mouth into a defiant pout. “Tell them you need books for work.”

  “I don’t think I’ll be going back to work.”

  Tom pressed his lips together but didn’t reply. He placed the part gingerly onto the tablecloth, then reached for his screwdriver.

  “Tom, please talk to me.”

  He sniffled and looked up. Bloodshot eyes met hers and her heart sank.

  “I…” His voice cracked and he wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. “I don’t understand how he’s just…gone…”

  “I know, sweetie. It’s not your fault.”

  Tom scowled, eyes hardening. “You said that he wouldn’t—”

  Chris put down the oatmeal bar, rushed to his side and knelt in front of him, placing her hand on his thigh. He smelled of sweat. The way Lester had after a long day at work. “I’m sorry, Tom. I didn’t know Dad would do this. I didn’t know how sad he was and that’s my fault. I didn’t look after him.”

  Tom’s bottom lip quivered. “Didn’t he…didn’t he love us enough?”

  “Oh, sweetie, of course he did.” She squeezed his thigh. “He loved us very much. Especially you. He was so proud of you. Sometimes…sometimes people just don’t have the strength to hold on.”

  “You were with him. His blood is under your nails.”

  Chris balled her hand into a fist and closed her eyes. She’d scrubbed her nails, but the red remained stark against her pale fingers.

  She’d lost an entire day. Left Tom’s bedroom and walked into—

  Hours she couldn’t account for. Hours she must have spent staring at Lester’s body.

  She didn’t remember…didn’t remember if she’d passed out or just stood there.

  But that didn’t mean she’d hurt Lester. She would never—

  The cat. Its popping eyes. The way her knife had slid into Mike’s abdomen. The adrenaline surging through her body. The feeling of power coursing through her veins.

  “Mum?”

  Chris wiped her eyes. “I’m sorry. I loved your dad very much, and—”

  “Sometimes you fought.”

  “Of course. All couples fight.”

  “You screamed at him for not helping around the house. For not doing enough.”

  “I know. I’m sorry.” A lump grew in her throat and she swallowed. “I was frustrated—”

  “He was ill.”

  Deflated, she bowed her head. “I’m sorry.”

  “What about me? Are you going to yell at me? Leave me behind? If I don’t help enough?”

  “Help with what?”

  “I heard you talking to Anna last night.”

  Chris froze. Had he heard what she’d said about Lester? Her insides twisted, but Tom didn’t seem to notice.

  No. He wouldn’t be talking to her if he knew.

  Oreo had settled next to Tom’s feet. Despite Tom’s sulking, Oreo had taken an immediate liking to the boy. “You were talking about finding a farm, growing food, keeping animals.” Tom absentmindedly patted the dog’s head. “I don’t know how to do any of that.”

  “You’re thirteen, Tom. You don’t need to know how to do any of that.”

  He didn’t protest, didn’t tell her that he was no longer a boy and almost fourteen now.

  “I’m just…worried you’ll…” His voice trailed off, his lower lip quivering.

  “Oh, Tom.” Chris gave his thigh another squeeze. “I’d never leave you behind.”

  His eyes softened, and she opened her arms in invitation, but he shook his head. A vast array of emotions flitted across his face. “How do you know Anna?”

  Chris hesitated. Holding on to the table, she pulled herself to her feet and sat down on the chair opposite her son. At last, he was talking to her. “She’s a friend. Why?”

  “Do you trust her?”

  Chris frowned. “Why do you ask?”

  “You keep saying that desperate people are dangerous. What if we’re in her way, somehow. This isn’t a large flat.” His brows knitted with worry. “What if her sister doesn’t like us when she gets here?”

  “Anna is a good person. She helped me the night…everything changed. She was the one who told me to stock up on supplies. She’s the reason we have so much food and water. Besides, she left Oreo with us. She wouldn’t trust us with her dog if she didn’t like us, right?”

  Tom clutched the screwdriver tightly, his knuckles white. “I don’t get you. I’ve never heard of this Anna before and now—”

  “Tom.” Chris placed her hand on his arm, his muscles taut beneath her touch. The screwdriver shook in his hand. “You’re getting yourself worked up over nothing.”

  “Why couldn’t we go to James’?” His grimace hinted at a looming teenage tantrum. “You’ve known his parents for years.”

  “They live too far away.”

  Oreo pushed his nose against Tom’s leg, then sat as if waiting for a treat. Tom broke off a small piece of Chris’ half-eaten oatmeal bar and flicked it in the dog’s direction. Oreo caught it in mid-air. “Good boy.” He removed another screw from the laptop, then gathered them in a pile. “Can I come with you?”

  “Where to?”

  “You
told Anna that you wanted to find more food.”

  “Oh.”

  “I’m hoping to find working electronics to salvage some of the parts.” He grinned as if suddenly in his element. “Anything stored in a warehouse would have been turned off when everything went dark.”

  Chris frowned. This was not the first time he had mentioned they might find working electronic equipment. And the army had at least one functioning vehicle. “Go on?”

  “Electronics that were switched on during the EMP are toast as well as anything connected to the grid.” He imitated an exploding bomb with his hands. “Boom. Dead. But…anything that was turned off at the time might have survived. Even better if it didn’t have batteries inside.”

  “But even if you found a working laptop. Even if…there’s no Internet, and there’s no way for you to charge the batteries. You may as well get used to pen and paper.”

  Tom grumbled. “Unless we find a generator.”

  “Those need fuel. Doesn’t fuel go off eventually? Besides, even if it doesn’t, we’d run out sooner rather than later.”

  “The one time somebody might actually be interested in my videos, and I can’t even film or upload them.”

  “Anne Frank didn’t have a computer either.”

  Tom stared at her and narrowed his eyes. “Haha. You’re so funny.”

  “Look…I know you miss James, and perhaps once things have settled down—”

  “Why not now? Anna is out there right now trying to find her sister. Why can’t we do the same?”

  Chris shrugged. “It’s safe here. For now. I don’t know how long the tinned goods across the country will last, but I don’t think it’ll even be a month. That’s why I was thinking of the Poundland warehouse. If we can get some more food now, we can hide for longer. Either until they fix the electricity or until most people…” She cleared her throat. “Time is on our side. If we can hide and wait, we stand a chance.”

  “Won’t everybody else just hide and wait as well?”

  “Not if they don’t have enough food and water at home.”

  Tom tilted his head and frowned. “Shouldn’t we help others?”