Dark Days: The Long Road Home, a post apocalyptic novel

by May, L M

  “Don't,” Christopher growled. “I need to be able to see you. You're the only thing grounding me right now.”

  Gemma nodded, and curled herself around the side of the shaft opening, making herself as small as possible.

  Donavon's shoulder brushed against her as he stuck his head in, and somehow Robert squeezed in on the far side, giving them some light as he cast a worried look down at Megan.

  The ladder was only about four feet from the opening, but with the open space below him, and nothing to grab onto, it couldn't have been more dangerous if it was a mile. One wrong move and both Christopher and Becky would go plunging into the dark depths below them, collecting Megan on the way.

  7

  Gemma couldn't imagine a world without Christopher in it. He'd taught her what love was, but in truth he'd done so much more than that. He'd persisted despite her many rejections, slowly cracking away at the hard shell of protection she'd built.

  He taught her how to trust – then he took it all away again.

  It was a long time before Gemma opened her heart to anyone else, but the walls never quite came back down again.

  She'd convinced herself she didn't need anyone. That she didn't need a man to make her whole. That she wasn't weak like her mother.

  The funny thing was Christopher hadn't been much older than her hormone-crazed students when he betrayed her.

  She began seeing his betrayal in a different light. Especially considering the pressure he'd been under at the time, and the terrible burden of the secret that was the beginning of what tore them apart.

  “What do you want me to do?” Donavon asked Christopher, rubbing his chin as he took in the situation.

  Gemma gave Christopher an encouraging smile. When he managed a small smile in return it was as though something had lifted away from her, and she felt lighter somehow.

  She never realized before how much of himself he'd left with her. She was a stronger person because of him. He'd taught her that letting others in was a strength. Not a weakness.

  But the matter of CJ was in a whole other category and something she couldn't think about right now.

  Christopher's face was strained. The arm closest to her was shaking.

  The canvas strap had fallen over his shoulder. It was only the awkward way he was holding himself that was stopping it from sliding further. His neck was cocked at an odd angle, his shoulder jutting upwards. The tightening of the strap against his bone was cutting off his circulation.

  Christopher's voice was low as he answered Donavon, and the light of the fire dancing in his eyes was mingled with pain.

  “I'm going to have to cut Becky free.” Christopher paused as his shoulder started shaking uncontrollably. “I'll need you to grab her.”

  What they were considering was crazy – risky as hell – and Gemma's brain scrambled for another answer.

  “What's going on?” Megan sounded alarmed.

  Robert stiffened, leaning out to reassure her. “Just hang tight–”

  “Hang tight? You seriously just said that?” Megan snorted, but her voice was thick with fear.

  “Bad choice of words,” Robert agreed lightly. “It won't be long now.”

  “Don't mind me – I'll just be hanging around,” Megan said.

  “A comedian, too,” Robert said.

  “Yup – that's me,” Megan shot back. “Always the life of the party.”

  Meanwhile Christopher and Donavon were still talking, their voices low and urgent.

  “Can you reach the belt buckle?” Christopher asked. “I can fasten Becky to the ladder while I cut her free.”

  “Not without coming in there.” Donavon's face was grave. “There's just not enough room for us both on the ladder.”

  “I could do it,” Gemma said.

  Christopher immediately shook his head. “No.”

  “I'm smaller than Donavon,” Gemma hissed, her grip tightening on the wall as she studied the ladder. “Robert. I need more light.”

  “I said no,” Christopher growled as Robert maneuvered the flame over Gemma's head.

  “What? Because I'm a girl?” Gemma voiced her frustration, giving Christopher a pointed look.

  “No. Because...” Christopher broke off, pain twisting his features as he moved his shoulder.

  “There's a support brace for the ladder just below you,” Gemma said quickly. “If you put your foot on that and shift across I can come down on this side.”

  Christopher shook his head.

  “You won't be able to cut her free by yourself.”

  “What if I do it?” Megan asked.

  “No, it would be safer if I do it.” Gemma looked down at the girl.

  “It would? Why?”

  “Because I didn't just climb five stories up a vertical ladder,” Gemma said as she swung her leg into the shaft.

  “Now just hold on a minute,” Robert said, causing another snort from Megan as he pulled Gemma back. “There's got to be another way.”

  “Pun intended, right?” Megan said, a definite note of hysteria creeping into her voice.

  Robert looked alarmed. But his voice was soft, almost teasing, as he continued his rapport with the teen. “Every pun intended my dear. I had a teenage daughter once, you know.”

  “You did?” Megan said.

  Gemma glanced at Robert, and though the deep rumble of his voice didn't give him away, something in his face told her this was the cause of the sadness he seemed to carry with him.

  “She was a lot like you,” Robert said as he knocked on the wall with his knuckles.

  “What? A scaredy-cat?”

  “No.” Robert stretched around Gemma, his arm pressing against her as he studied the shaft wall. “She was the bravest person I ever knew.”

  “What happened to her?”

  “That, my dear, is a story I'll share when we get you out.”

  “I'm going to hold you to that.”

  Robert chuckled. “I'm sure you will. Now – if you'll excuse my pathetic attempt – I'll be back.” Robert's impersonation left a lot to be desired, but the groan the young mother let out was an encouraging sign.

  Robert quickly explained his plan to Gemma, Donavon and Anne. Inside the shaft all was silent as Christopher and Megan listened.

  “There's a support beam here.” Robert knocked at the edge of the shaft opening. “If we smash through the wall, they'll have something to grab onto. Now down here,” he kicked the base of the wall, “we can give them something to stand on.”

  “You're going to smash the wall in?” Megan sounded doubtful, but Gemma had seen one of her mother's boyfriends punch his fist through a wall. Hope bloomed.

  “You better believe it,” Robert said. “My trusty crowbar is going to make short work of this wall. Now keep your heads turned the other way.”

  Donavon handed Robert the crowbar, and Robert slammed it into the wall with great enthusiasm. Then he wedged it under the plaster.

  Gemma held the chunks steady as Robert carefully pried them away, and before long the beam was fully exposed.

  Robert stopped to catch his breath. Sweat poured down his brow and he panted heavily.

  “Doctor's been at me to lose weight,” Robert shrugged in apology. “Reckons I'm a heart attack waiting to happen.”

  “Here, let me.” Donavon took the crowbar, and set to work at the base of the wall.

  Gemma got down on her hands and knees to help pull the plaster away.

  “Gemma?”

  Gemma looked up at Anne's soft tone. Anne's worried eyes were on Christopher.

  Handing Gemma the torch as she got to her feet, Anne nodded at the wall. “I'll do that. Christopher needs you.”

  Anne lowered her voice. “I don't know how much longer he can hold on.”

  Christopher's jaw was firmly gritted. The side of his head rested on the rung in front of him. Even in the soft light Gemma could see that his arm had gone a strange color, rendering it almost useless.

  “Hey you,
” Gemma said softly.

  Christopher looked up, the pain in his eyes cutting into her. “Hey yourself,” he grunted.

  Gemma searched for words of reassurance, but quickly realized that wasn't what he needed. Keeping her eyes firmly locked on his, she smiled, and was encouraged when he offered her a shaky smile in return.

  “Just so you know,” Christopher growled. “I'm going to kiss those beautiful lips senseless when I'm back on firm ground.”

  Gemma didn't quite know what to say to that, and despite the situation – or perhaps because of it – she felt something stir deep inside her. She'd never been so afraid for anyone in her life.

  “The good ones are always taken,” Megan said.

  Gemma glanced down at the terrified teen, recognizing her attempt at humor for what it was. Megan's body was pressed close to the ladder, her arms twisted tightly around the rungs.

  “You better believe it,” Christopher said softly.

  Gemma looked back up to find his eyes burning into hers.

  Her face flushed. She was confused by his words. The look in his eye told her he was talking about her, but the idea he was seeing someone was a far more likely possibility. And one she found she didn't like at all.

  Below her, Gemma could feel the dark open space of the shaft. As much as she wished she could lower the torch to give Megan more light, Donavon and Anne needed it more.

  “That should do it,” Donavon said when he got to his feet, absently dusting at the thighs of his black pants.

  Gemma immediately shoved the torch in the shaft, its flames flickering in Christopher's glassy eyes. He was in a lot more pain than he was letting on.

  “What are you waiting for?” Megan sounded worried when Christopher didn't move.

  Christopher grounded his teeth loudly as he flexed his shoulder, trying to manipulate the strap back into place without success.

  Gemma could feel Donavon breathing heavily as he came to her side. Before she even thought about what she was doing, Gemma shoved the torch into Donavon's hand and wrapped her arm tightly around the exposed beam. Swinging her leg over, she put her foot into the hole they'd just created.

  “Damn it, Gemma,” Christopher said. “Get back in there.”

  Gemma ignored him as she leaned across, reaching for his shoulder.

  Seeing the grim determination in her eyes, Christopher gave up his protests as Gemma tugged at the strap.

  “Sit Becky on the rung,” Gemma said. “It'll take the weight off.”

  Christopher rested Becky's bottom on the ladder, and Gemma gently manipulated the strap. “Drop your shoulder.”

  “God – that feels good.” Christopher stared at Gemma's mouth as the strap slid over his shoulder, his hand pumping quick fists to restore the circulation. “Now get the hell out of here.”

  Gemma pulled herself out, and Christopher jammed his foot through the hole in the wall. Hooking one elbow around the ladder, he leaned sideways until he reached the beam, wrapping his arm tightly around it. The color looked somewhat healthier as he arched his body around the space that was Becky.

  Gemma stepped back to give him room. Inside she was jumping up and down and shouting with glee.

  Christopher carefully lowered his head and young Becky through, his eyes devouring Gemma. “I meant what I said,” he stated.

  Gemma's heart fluttered and she found herself staring at his full lips.

  “Do you think you could get me out of here first?” Megan called as Donavon steadied Christopher.

  Gemma shook her head, surprised by the direction her thoughts took as Christopher stood there looking weak and vulnerable and sexy as hell in his white trunks.

  As Robert encouraged Megan up the ladder, Christopher's gaze locked on Gemma. He moved straight for her, the long, lean muscles of his thighs flexing.

  She could smell the sharp tang of sweat and fear as he pulled her to him. Becky squirmed against their chests.

  “I've never been so scared in my life.” Christopher's hands shook as he rubbed the sides of Gemma's arms.

  Gemma's hands took on a life of their own, reaching up to push the thick, dark hair back from his sweaty brow. Christopher buried his face in her hair. “God – you smell so good.”

  They stood like that for what seemed an eternity. Listening as Megan slowly but surely made her way up the ladder under Robert's gentle encouragement.

  Christopher's grip tightened at the unmistakable sound of metal vibrating as Megan lost her footing.

  “Megan?” Robert's voice was forced.

  “Still here,” Megan said.

  Gemma let out her breath. She pulled away to look up at Christopher. His pupils were dilated, making his eyes look black. Then his hands were cupping her face, his head lowering toward hers.

  “My impressionable young daughter is watching, you know,” Megan announced herself.

  Startled, Gemma automatically looked down. Becky was staring up at them through thick lashes, her eyes heavy with sleep.

  There was a big grin on Megan's face as she clambered into the corridor. “But don't let that stop you.”

  Megan threw her thin arms around Robert, her narrow shoulders trembling. “Thank you.”

  “I didn't do anything,” Robert flushed, his ruddy cheeks turning red.

  “You stayed when the others left...” Megan broke off, a single tear trailing down her pale face. “Besides, Christopher's a little tied up right now.”

  Robert chuckled, one hand coming up to pat at her back awkwardly. Then he was returning the girl's fierce hug with one of his own.

  Becky reached for her mother, and Megan finally let Robert go. Her legs were unsteady as she moved toward her daughter, a smile so full of love on her face it made Gemma's heart lurch, and her thoughts were suddenly consumed with CJ.

  It had been barely three weeks since she'd promised Caroline she'd look out for CJ. Now she had no idea where he was.

  Daphne had insisted on driving Gemma to the station at Carlisle. Forty miles from home, the small city was a popular shopping destination. When Gemma said she was happy to drive herself, Daphne said she'd already sealed the deal by promising to take CJ to watch the latest Ice Age movie.

  Gemma had no idea if they made it home before the pulse. For all she knew they were trapped in Carlisle with no way to get home.

  8

  Christopher kneaded his shoulder muscles, applying downward pressure with his hand as he rotated the joint. Gemma was firmly ensconced under his other arm as they made their way down the corridor.

  He was still feeling shaken, and couldn't get rid of the horrible images that had plastered themselves in his mind. He'd truly thought his arm was going to fail him. Just knowing how close the child watching him over Megan's shoulder had come to plunging to her death still haunted him.

  Fear for his own life had never come into it at the time. It wasn't until he was out of the shaft that he realized his own fragile mortality, and he'd felt suddenly shaky as the effects of the adrenalin surging through his system faded.

  Megan took the news calmly when Robert told her about the pulse. “I knew something big had happened when everyone left.” She turned blue eyes on Christopher. “But when I realized the risk you were taking to save us...” Megan trailed off with a weary shrug as she stroked her daughter's head.

  The small group stayed close together, the reality of what might be facing them when they left the building weighing them down.

  The glimpses of sky through the office windows they passed showed how fast night was descending, the thick smoke in the air adding an extra layer of gloom. Dark would fall earlier than usual.

  They paused when they reached the sitting area window. In the distance the smoke was thick and heavy as a fire raged out of control in the general vicinity of Peak Mountain, visible through the gaps in the buildings.

  Christopher was beginning to feel like he was in the middle of a warzone. For all he knew, he was.

  It had taken Gordon all of ten
minutes to declare that terrorists had nuked them, his little piggy eyes gleaming as he told them they wouldn't have been able to hear or see a thing if it was detonated high enough.

  It had been Gemma who assured them they weren't in danger of radiation poisoning.

  Images from the media in the wake of nine-eleven stormed his brain – news clips of missiles hurtling through the night skies of Afghanistan, putting fear into the hearts of all that World War Three had broken out.

  He hoped to God they weren't at war – that the fault belonged to mother nature.

  His need to get Gemma safely out of the city heightened as bright orange flames flickered in the distance. He was starting to wonder if it was a good idea to wait until morning, and he doubted he'd be the only one to see it that way.

  He also couldn't help feeling responsible for Megan and Becky – what if he'd only prolonged the agony of the weeks to come? Without food and water, what hope did the young mother and daughter have – what hope did any of them have?

  Christopher knew he was ill-prepared. As a child food magically appeared when Mrs. Smyth, the housekeeper, placed it in front of him.

  With the security of a job that paid well and a healthy trust fund to supplement his income, there was always someone to take care of his every need. Eating out most nights meant his cupboards were almost bare. It had been years since he'd even entered a supermarket – he hadn't needed to since the day he'd impulsively hired one of his clients, a single mother who'd been struggling financially.

  Angela had become a godsend. At first she'd slipped unobtrusively into his apartment while he was at work to do the cleaning. Before long she was stocking the fridge with his favorite coffee beans, milk, and the other things he liked to have on hand. He couldn't remember the last time he had run out of shaving cream or soap.

  “What are you doing?” Christopher asked when Gemma pulled away.

  “There's food in there.” Gemma disappeared through a doorway.

  “She's right,” Anne said. “How much food do you have in your fridge?” She raised her eyebrows knowingly at Christopher.