“You don’t think the government will restore the power? Maintain the peace?”
“Not if they insist on hanging people to make a point.” He chuckled dryly. “No. They’ll run out of food before they’ll restore power. They’ll lose control before the end of July.”
“Hmm.” Anna had to struggle to keep up with his pace.
Bob didn’t seem to notice as he continued talking. “I think small settlements will form. Neighbours who help each other out. Perhaps they’ll manage to restore small pockets of electricity powered by the sun or the wind. And in a few years, ten to fifteen perhaps, smaller settlements will come together and form a village. And so on…” His voice trailed off as he stepped over the thick trunk of a fallen tree. He turned, offering Anna his hand.
She took it and climbed over the trunk. “What about the Queen?”
Bob snorted. He stopped and rubbed his forehead as if contemplating her question. “The family might survive. They have big enough estates to hide from the public and probably a bunker full of supplies or something. But I doubt they can come back and…what…claim we’re still their subjects?” He puffed out his chest and his voice shifted. “It’s been eighty-four years, and I just wanted to let you know I’m Prince George, and this is my country.” His Essex accent had disappeared entirely, but he still sounded nothing like the Royal Family.
Anna grinned. “I’m Anna. Thank you for helping me.”
He shook her hand. “Not everyone is a reprobate, right? There must be decent people out there. People like you.”
Anna winced. Was she a decent person? She’d stolen from a supermarket mere hours after the power had gone out. Taken everything she’d needed without thinking of anyone else.
She didn’t consider that decent.
You’ve helped Chris, a voice in her head piped up as if trying to make her feel better but the guilt still lingered.
And when her neighbour had been shot, she’d immediately raided his flat.
But you shared the food and water you found.
“I’m not sure I’d consider myself a decent person.”
“I’d argue that the rules have changed,” Bob said. “We need to survive. And what we have to do in order to survive has changed since the EMP.”
“Do you know what happened?”
“My wife thinks it was a CME.”
“A C—what?”
“CME. Coronal Mass Ejection. We’d had a period of unusually strong solar activities during the days before the EMP, and even a few solar flares.
“What’s the difference between a solar flare and a coronary—a CME?”
He chuckled. “Coronal Mass Ejection. It’s basically a shock wave travelling towards the Earth. I don’t really know how it works, but my wife insists that that’s what it was. It’s her hobby. Stargazing.”
“The sun’s turned on us?” Anna snorted. “No war? No invasion? No enemies trying to take over our country?”
“Not according to my wife, but how would we know? Perhaps they’re in London, but I doubt it. I don’t think the army would bother with Braintree if we were under attack.”
“Fair point. They’d definitely not bother with Harlow.”
They arrived at the edge of the field, and Bob led them along a narrow pathway trailing through the thicket. He pushed a thorny branch aside, waiting for Anna to pass. He smelled of soap and fresh sweat. She darted past him and mumbled a thank you.
He walked behind her now, and an image of him sticking his knife into her back invaded her mind. But she reminded herself once again that he would have hurt her already if he’d wanted to.
“There’s the A120,” Bob said, pointing at the road visible in the distance. “Stick to the left side of the field until you can’t see the town anymore. The dual carriageway will lead you to Colchester. It’ll be crawling with soldiers just like Braintree, so be careful.” He smiled. “I hope you’ll find whatever it is you’re looking for.”
Anna nodded. “Thank you, Bob.”
“And if you ever need a place to stay, I walk around these fields at least once a day. Who knows…perhaps I’ll even make a start on one of those settlements?”
She smiled and waved.
“Anna?”
“Yes?”
“You said you don’t think you’re a decent person. Do you think it’s possible to spot evil?”
“What do you mean?”
“I could have been a cannibal. I could have kidnapped you. Hurt you. Or you could have hurt me. I don’t know what you carry in that bag of yours, and I let you walk behind me. I don’t think women are harmless, but I also doubt all men you’ll meet will be good people. So…how do you spot evil? How do you identify the ones who will hurt you?”
“I don’t know,” Anna said. “I can tell you why I don’t think I’m a decent person. It was almost midnight when my TV screen went black. Several cars had broken down in the middle of the road. I checked my own car, then, without hesitating, I rushed to the nearest Tesco and took home food and water for three months. With the tills not working, there was no way for me to pay. That’s called looting.”
“Some might say that’s called being smart.”
“Where do you draw the line?”
Bob shrugged. “Hurting others without just cause. If I invite people into my home…how will I know that they won’t take everything they need and leave me for dead?”
“Invite people you already know?”
“Everyone I know lives miles away.”
“Sounds like you should have talked to your neighbours more.” Anna laughed and turned to walk away. A small part of her was still worried he’d follow and hurt her, but she didn’t want to look over her shoulder and make him think she didn’t trust him.
She quickened her pace and made her way towards the road.
Her sister’s house was located on the outskirts of Colchester. The area appeared abandoned. Several houses had burnt down, leaving nothing but blackened, jagged remains of walls.
Black smoke rose above the town centre.
Sarah’s house was still standing, but the windows at the front had shattered. The curtains were drawn.
Her sister’s Renault was parked in the driveway. A crack ran down the middle of the windscreen.
Anna knocked.
No response.
She retrieved the key from underneath the flowerpot next to the front door and unlocked the side gate to let herself into the garden. The spare key to the house was taped to the bottom of a wooden birdhouse next to the patio.
Anna let herself in.
A musty odour lingered in the air. Dust tickled Anna’s nose and she sneezed.
The smell reminded her of coming home after a holiday. After the house had been unoccupied for days.
Her stomach sank.
“Sarah?”
She found a note on the kitchen table.
Anna! I’ve gone to Harlow and I’ll wait for you in your flat. If for any reason your flat isn’t safe, meet me at sunrise where Mum used to take us every Sunday morning.
Anna smiled. Pet’s Corner. The local petting zoo. Her sister was clever.
She tested the tap just in case things were different out here. Brown sludge dripped thickly into the sink.
Anna sat down and took off her shoes, inspecting her blisters. She found plasters and disinfectant wipes and cleaned them up.
Her feet were howling at the prospect of having to walk another forty miles.
She felt exhausted and decided to get a good night’s sleep before making her way back.
Hopefully, Sarah would be waiting for her.
Hopefully, they’d all be safe and together again soon.
12
Chris woke with a start. The moon was visible through the blinds, hanging low and bright over the local park like a thick silver plate.
She sat up and peered out the window, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. A grey, horizontal streak over the horizon announced the sunrise.
Something had woken h
er up. An unfamiliar noise.
Tom snored softly next to her, his tousled hair curling at the neck.
There. Again.
The door to the spare room stood open a crack.
“Oreo?”
A growl was the only response. It turned into a low rumble, then a bark.
Somebody was walking up the stairs. A stranger.
Chris shook Tom’s shoulders and pressed her index finger to her lips. “Shhh! Wake up. There’s someone in the building.”
“What?” Tom mumbled, then yawned.
Chris grabbed her pepper spray from the bedside table, tilted her head and listened. The pitter-patter of dog feet on the wooden floor was followed by another bark.
“Are you sure it’s not just a neighbour?” Tom asked, sitting up.
Chris fumbled for a candle, lit it and shuffled into the hallway, gripping her pepper spray. The candlelight reflected in Oreo’s eyes. They glowed red in the dark.
“What is it, boy?” Chris whispered. She bent down to stroke him when someone knocked on the door. Oreo pulled up his lips, revealing his sharp teeth and snarled.
The handle turned. Rattled.
Tom shuffled into the hallway, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. “What the—”
The door burst open.
Bright light filled the hallway, and Chris squeezed her eyes shut. A torch? Her heart pounded. Wincing, she opened one eye.
Oreo darted forward in a mock attack, his barking high-pitched.
Blinking rapidly, her vision adjusted. A soldier stood in the door, both his assault rifle and his torch pointed straight at them.
“Both of you where I can see you,” the man ordered. “Is there anybody else in the flat?”
Chris shook her head.
“What about the woman who lives here? Mid-thirties. Tall with dark blonde hair. Large nose.”
“Anna?”
“I don’t know her name. Is she here?”
“No,” Chris whispered.
The soldier lowered his torch. “Stay right where you are.” He walked down the hallway, shining his torch into every room.
Oreo cowered as the soldier walked past, his barking incessant. The soldier gestured towards Oreo with the barrel of his rifle. “Make the dog shut up. Now.”
Tom led Oreo into Anna’s bedroom and closed the door. “I can’t stop him barking, but he won’t hurt you. Please don’t shoot him.”
The soldier glowered at Tom, then pointed to the living room. “Sit in there. Keep your hands where I can see them.”
Chris tried to slide the pepper spray back into her trouser pocket, but the soldier took a step towards her and pointed the torch straight at her torso. “What are you hiding?”
“Nothing.”
“Drop it.”
She considered emptying the pepper spray into his face. If she dropped her candle, it might distract him long enough for her to get his eyes, but his assault rifle was aimed at her son.
If he accidentally fired it…
With no choice, Chris dropped the can. It fell onto the wooden floor with a loud thud. She peered past the soldier, looking for his backup. Was he alone?
“Sit,” the soldier barked, and she flinched.
They shuffled into the living room. Chris sank down into the sofa cushions next to Tom and took his trembling hand. “It’ll be okay,” she whispered, placing the candle on the coffee table.
Oreo’s barks were muffled and sporadic. He’s more likely to bark and hide than bite. Anna had been right. He hadn’t attacked, instead he’d cowered. He must have smelled their fear. So much for the dog helping guard the flat.
“Light the other candles,” the soldier said to Tom.
Tom obeyed, his hand shaking as he lit the candles on the coffee table with a match. Once the flames stopped flickering, the soldier placed his torch on the floor. Tom blew out the match and Chris watched the black smoke curl in the candlelight.
She was trained for this.
She’d handled aggressive patients.
She could handle a single soldier.
“What do you want from us?” she asked. “We haven’t done anything wrong.” Had somebody tracked Tom from the Poundland warehouse? Her heart was racing. Would they arrest him?
“The woman who lives here…Anna. Did she leave to find her sister?”
Chris exhaled. He wasn’t here for her son. “How do you know about Anna’s sister?” A flicker of hope was ignited in her belly and for a moment Chris thought that perhaps he was a family friend. Somebody who cared for Anna. Somebody who wouldn’t be a danger after all.
“She told me,” the soldier said. “She also told me that the army wouldn’t manage to keep the peace, and that there wasn’t enough food for everyone. And she was right. London has descended into chaos. The Prime Minister has fled to York.” He rubbed his face, and Chris’ hopes were shattered.
He had the face of a desperate man.
“How long have you known Anna?” Chris asked, trying to buy time. He couldn’t hurt them if he was busy talking. Her gaze darted across the room and settled on the lamp by the television. Its base would be heavy enough to knock him out. If she could grab it and strike—
His finger was on the trigger.
The barrel of his rifle aimed at Tom’s head.
“I don’t know her,” he said with a shrug. “She asked if I could get a message to Colchester when I was on patrol the other day. That was the extent of our relationship.” His eyes drifted over her and Tom, cold and hard.
Chris swallowed, her mouth had gone dry and her tongue felt sticky. “Why are you here?”
“The morning after the grid went down our squad was drafted in to help distribute supplies. I left my frightened wife and son at home so I could do my job.” A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “He’s two months old today. My superiors promised to look after my family, but after what Anna said, I abandoned my post to check on them. I walked for days. By the time I made it home, my wife was so stressed, she couldn’t breastfeed, and they didn’t have any formula left. My son…he was starving…feverish.”
Chris frowned, mimicking his expression. Sometimes mirroring emotions did the trick and established empathy. She gestured for him to go on.
Tears glistened in his eyes, but his features hardened. “I asked my superiors to let my wife and son see a doctor. They refused. I asked for formula. They said they’d run out. It’s not even been two weeks and they’ve already run out. Our warehouses are empty.” He fell silent, wiping his brow with the back of his hand.
“I’m sorry,” Chris whispered. Every man for himself, Mike had said. “Did you find any formula?”
“They told me that my wife had failed to sign up to the food supply scheme.” The soldier scoffed, the barrel of his weapon dropping slightly. “She was too exhausted to queue, and our neighbours wouldn’t help her.”
“That’s awful,” Chris said. She squeezed Tom’s hand, felt the rapid pulse in his wrist. “What’s your name?” she asked the soldier, thinking of her training. Build an emotional connection. Establish trust and empathy. She needed him to see her and Tom as equals. Human beings worthy of survival. Just like him.
He’d be far less likely to hurt them if he—
But the soldier shook his head. Almost violently. “You don’t need to know my name.” His voice was hard, uncaring.
She still didn’t know why he was here.
Did he think Anna had formula? Did he think she was a doctor?
“My name is Chris,” she said softly. “And this is my son, Tom.” She was desperate for him to understand that they too were suffering. Needed food. Wanted to survive.
Deserved to survive.
The soldier didn’t acknowledge her and continued speaking as though she hadn’t said a word. “A man down the road took pity on us and gave us a box of formula, said he had enough for a few months. He told me his brother had fled London and that they were planning on moving further north.” He frown
ed, narrowing his eyes. “A few nights ago, I sat with my wife and remembered Anna’s words.”
“Anna’s words?”
“She asked me if I was looking after my own family. If I was prepared for the coming famine. I laughed at her.” He paused and took a deep breath. “She claimed that the army was just there to keep the public from storming the supermarkets and warehouses and that the food was being stockpiled for the rich and powerful.” He scratched his nose and sniffled. “She was right.”
“Sounds like something that Anna would say.”
“She talked like someone who was prepared, you know? Like someone who would have a flat full of food.” His eyes narrowed, and the grip on his rifle tightened.
The candles flickered as he stood.
“Show me the kitchen,” he said to Chris. “You”—he pointed his chin at Tom—”don’t move!”
It was a warm and humid night. Sweat had gathered below her hairline, trickling down her neck. The stench of fear filled the room. Chris rubbed her forehead and thought of ways to save them. Save their food.
He was definitely alone. He’d even admitted to abandoning his post. That made him a deserter.
If both she and Tom attacked at the same time, they might be able to overpower him, but would Tom help her kill him?
Would he—
He has to.
This was no world for children, and the sooner he learned how to kill, the sooner he’d learn to always do what was necessary.
He had to grow up.
But at least one of them would be dead if the soldier moved first. If he shot his gun. Chris wasn’t prepared to risk Tom’s life.
She shuffled into the kitchen.
Even if she managed to kill him—what would they do with his body? Anna had said that two flats in the block were empty, but the smell—
“Move!” The cold metal of his rifle dug into her back. “Looks like I wasn’t wrong.” Chris heard the grin in his voice. “This is enough food to last us months.”
Chris turned, lifting her chin defiantly. “These are our supplies. My family has the right to survive. That’s my son in the other room. He’s only thirteen. He deserves to live.”
The soldier shrugged. “I joined the army to protect people, but I can’t save everyone. I’m sorry, but I can’t. And since I’m the one with the gun…”
Darkness Ahead of Us | Book 1 | Darkness Within Page 11