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IMPACT_A Post-Apocalyptic Tale_The Complete Series

Page 28

by Matthew Eliot


  But he knew the truth from the very instant he heard that greeting.

  This wasn’t Ivan.

  “Ivan…?” he asked, nonetheless.

  A short exhalation, through the nose. Mocking, scornful. .

  “This isn’t Ivan, James,” the voice confirmed. And, already, this was too much to take, too much even to grasp.

  “I’d get him on the line, but he’s lying here with three bullets in him, Walscombe. Dead.”

  A pause.

  “And we’re coming for you, next, man of Atlantis.”

  END OF BOOK II

  Join Matthew Eliot’s Reader List, and enjoy special launch prices and notifications for upcoming books: http://eepurl.com/bpK_an.

  IMPACT Book III is available now, here.

  Dear Reader,

  I hope you enjoyed Rise of the Wraiths.

  As an indie author, I am my own publisher. That means I have absolute creative freedom, but it also means I can’t benefit from the support of a publishing house.

  You, as a reader, can make a huge difference.

  If you feel like lending me a hand, you could try the following:

  - If you enjoyed the book, please consider writing a review on Amazon. It would help me find new readers, and allow them to make an informed purchase.

  - Tell your friends about IMPACT.

  - Join my Reader List. This allows me to communicate with you directly, and, hopefully, keep in touch. Also, I’ll set the price of my new books to £/$/€ 0.99 for a day or so after release. When I do, I’ll send a mail to all my subscribers, so you can purchase them at reduced price.

  - Write to me. I’m happy to receive emails. This is my address: matt@mattheweliot.com

  Back to writing.

  Yours,

  Matthew

  All rights reserved.

  Copyright 2016

  Fortunately, all the events in this book

  are the product of the author’s imagination.

  Any similarities to reality are merely coincidental.

  Join my Reader List and get my new releases at just $0.99, as well as exclusive previews, signed copies, release updates and more: www.subscribepage.com/MatthewEliot.

  To you, Wawini.

  Contents

  1. Someone Dark

  2. Alice and Adrian

  3. The Priest

  4. Missing

  5. The Flying Machine

  6. The Black Box

  7. Claudio

  8. Alice and Adrian

  9. Death by Fire

  10. Paul

  11. R3dPill

  12. Strangers Welcome

  13. Cathy

  14. Ana

  15. Death of a Priest

  16. R3dPill

  17. The Warden Pays a Visit

  18. The Enemy of Thine Enemy

  19. The New World

  20. A Throne Fit for a King

  21. The Way This World Works

  22. R3dPill

  23. A Night-Time Dig

  24. Half-Wraith

  25. R3dPill

  26. Alice and Adrian

  27. Walscombe

  Dear Reader

  Acknowledgments

  Chapter 1

  Someone Dark

  You fear me, now.

  You hate me. You resent the loss of your loved ones, because of me.

  I killed them, yes. I killed your friends and your neighbours. People whose names you knew, and I don’t. Not only do I not know those names – I don’t care to know them. They mean nothing to me. I imagine this makes it worse.

  You stare at me, at my army, huddled behind the walls of your castle, and you wish you could somehow reach out and kill me. Kill us all. This, people of Bately, is not going to happen.

  Nor should it happen. Because, you see, soon the pale light of the sun will filter through the clouds to the east. That same sun will rise upon a different world. A new era.

  Perhaps you believe it is going to be a sad era. You are mistaken. Great things are to come – the greatest that have ever been. And your small, beautiful town is at the heart of this glorious future.

  But you can’t see that, now. Not yet. You are blinded by pain and fear and loss. You are ignorant of the truth. Of what happened, what really happened, when the meteorites struck. All I can say now is – you will understand.

  As impossible as it may seem at this time, a day will come when you’ll look back to this night, and cherish it. Despite the blood, despite the death.

  Yes. You’ll look back upon this sea of lifeless bodies, this eventful day, and joy will fill your hearts.

  I have a story to tell.

  And that story ends here, in Bately.

  Chapter 2

  Alice and Adrian

  The man stopped talking.

  Suddenly, everything was silent. Adrian was standing right there, beside her, but she couldn’t hear him breathe. It felt like her own heart had stopped. All she could do was stare.

  The dead bodies. Father Paul and their friends, behind the castle gates. And that man, with his black uniform. Beyond him stood thousands more. All dark, all quiet, like shadows cast by their leader.

  Alice shivered.

  “There is just one thing I need to ask of you, before you go to your homes and get some well-deserved rest,” the man continued. As he did so, Alice saw the others behind him raise their weapons. Row upon row of machine guns, rifles and pistols. All aimed at their friends below. His voice was gentle, the guns terrifying.

  “I want you to kneel,” the man said. “Kneel down before this banner, close your eyes, and breathe slowly.” Someone standing next to him lifted some sort of flag in the air. Three black circles, against a white background. A large one on top, then two more, each slightly smaller than the previous. Alice couldn’t explain why, but that symbol filled her with horror.

  Below them, the survivors looked at each other. She could sense their fear, like a gust of cold wind rising up to the window they were peering through.

  The man in the black uniform smiled. “Trust me. You’ll feel better.” The guns were still aimed at the crowd.

  “Look,” whispered Adrian. She followed his gaze, and saw that people were bowing their heads, getting down on their knees. Silent movements, shuffling of tired feet.

  “Now,” the man continued, “close your eyes… nothing is going to happen to you… close your eyes, breathe deeply, and feel that everything will be all right. Wonderful things await you, people of Bately. You have suffered enough. We all have.”

  Again, there was silence. The man observed the town’s remaining inhabitants, all bowing before that eerie flag. Before him. Then, he nodded slowly. He looked satisfied, she thought. And despite it all, she couldn’t help feeling that this silence was nice, after all the screaming and explosions. Scary nice, but nice.

  “Now rise,” the man said, and his eyes turned to the bodies on the ground (the ones Alice was trying so hard to not look at). “Mourn your dead, if you like. We will not harm you. Come out from behind those walls, you have nothing more to fear.”

  The children peered down. No one moved. Everyone is just as scared as we are, Alice thought. All those grown ups, down there, they are all like little children, now. This made her even more afraid.

  “You have one hour,” the man continued. “Then, you will leave the square. When you awake, there will be no sign of tonight’s battle. My men will see to that.”

  Again, Bately’s survivors hesitated. There was more whispering, longing glances thrown towards the dead. The man’s gaze was fixed on the survivors. Alice knew those eyes were terrible, eyes that could keep you awake at night. Even from all the way up here, without being able to see them, she knew.

  “This,” he said slowly, “will be the last time you’ll ever touch the people you lost tonight. The last time you’ll see them. You’ll have no other chance to say goodbye.” He let those words hang in the still air. “If you’ve lost someone tonight, I suggest you do as I
say, and bid them farewell while you still can.”

  A lady below, one Alice hadn’t met, suddenly burst into tears. She cried desperately, in a way that would have made Alice feel embarrassed, had she cried like that in school. A strange sound – a broken howl, that didn’t seem to belong to an adult.

  The woman ran through the open gate and into the square. Everyone watched, as she climbed over dead bodies, searching desperately. She howled and screamed, then she’d stop to catch her breath, and Alice didn’t know what she hated most, if her loud shrieks or the weird silence between them.

  The woman found the person she was looking for. She fell to the ground beside him.

  Slowly, tentatively, others followed. Some crying, some silent. Each walking on trembling legs towards the square, scanning the twisted remains of those who had fought the ’wraiths.

  Alice looked away.

  What she said next was difficult. But she knew she had to say it.

  “I… think we should leave, Ady.”

  Her young friend looked at her, fear and relief pouring out of his eyes. She knew he didn’t want them to stay here. She also knew this was because he was afraid of putting her in danger. Bately had seemed like a safe place, even when they found out there would be no Aunt Hellen to care for them, no lasting peace in her home. But Paul, Cathy and the others would have loved and protected them. She was sure of that.

  And now, this.

  She sighed.

  “Are you–?”

  “Yes, Ady, I’m sure,” she said, swallowing a tearful lump in her throat. “These people are dangerous. We have to go.”

  Adrian observed her, his wide eyes studying her through the shadows of the quiet room. He nodded. “Okay. Let’s go.”

  They looked outside one last time, trying to find those who had done their best to help them. Paul, Cathy, Claudio, Mathew, Edward. Going away without saying goodbye was hard.

  They finally turned towards the doorway.

  And saw the man standing there.

  * * *

  They froze. It was one of them.

  He was short, but had thick, muscly arms under his uniform’s black shirt.

  “Come outside, children,” he said. His voice was cold, practical. It sounded more like an order than an invitation. The children noticed the holstered gun, hanging from his side.

  Alice felt Adrian tense up. She feared he might do something silly. Before he had the chance to say or do anything, Alice stepped forward. “Yes sir, we will,” she said.

  The man in the black uniform considered Adrian. Her friend was standing there, breathing heavily through his nose, not moving.

  The man raised an eyebrow. “You coming too?” Again, an order, rather than a question.

  She reached out for Adrian’s hand, squeezed it. Say yes, Ady. Please.

  The boy finally dipped his chin, eyebrows knotted in a frown.

  “Good. Follow me.” He walked through the door, then turned to wait for them.

  They followed, heads held low. Alice’s heart was beating fast. She knew Adrian was planning something, could see it in the twitches in his fingers, the narrowing of his eyes. Pleasepleaseplease just do as he says, she thought. This man would not hesitate to kill her friend. She knew this, too.

  They exited into the corridor.

  “Down the stairs.”

  They obeyed, walking slowly towards them. Then there was a noise – a little burst of static from some sort of radio hanging from the man’s belt.

  He raised a finger, signalling them to wait.

  “Come in sir,” he said, bringing the radio to his mouth. A crackly response came out of the speaker, but Alice couldn’t make out the words.

  “Just inspecting the castle, sir. Found two children hiding up here. No one else, so far. We’ll be right down, sir. Over.”

  More words from the radio, something about making sure no one else was there with them. The man turned towards the other rooms, as if considering whether it was worth checking them out too.

  Suddenly, Adrian grabbed her arm. “Run, Ally!” he whisper-shouted, and began to drag her behind him. She desperately wanted to tell him to stop, that he was being stupid, this was way too dangerous. But it was all happening so fast. Adrian was already running, hand wrapped tight around her wrist. She held her breath, and scurried behind him, the echo of their footsteps loud against the castle walls.

  “Sir, I–” The man in black turned and saw them. “Shit!” He hurriedly tried to hang the radio off his belt again, but dropped it. He cursed again, and darted towards the children.

  Alice didn’t dare turn to see how far he was. She could hear him swearing, shouting, telling them to stop or he’d kill them.

  They ran past the stairs, and dived into another corridor. It was dark, here. Adrian hesitated, trying to find an exit, somewhere they could go. She saw another set of stairs, leading downwards. Doors on their left, windows to the right. “The stairs!” she said to Ady. She had no idea where they’d end up, but there was no time to think.

  They were panting and running and trembling and suddenly Alice felt something clutch at her hair. Pulling hard.

  She was dragged in two opposite directions – Adrian pulling her forwards, the man in black jerking her painfully backwards. Alice screamed in pain and frustration.

  Adrian turned, and saw what was happening. Instinctively, he pulled harder. Again, Alice screamed.

  “You little bastards,” the man whispered, spitting out the words through sealed teeth. He reached for his gun.

  As he did so, Alice felt the tug on her hair loosen. She lunged forward, trying to free herself from his grip. It felt like whole locks of hair were being torn out of her scalp.

  Two hurried steps forward. Trying not to think of that gun.

  Then, again, the man reaching out. Grabbing her at the collar this time. She heard her jumper rip apart, and the sudden chill of cold air flooding her body left her breathless.

  She tripped, and fell to the ground. Back naked, feeling vulnerable.

  Alice closed her eyes tight. Waiting for the gunshot that would kill her. She thought, like perhaps someone much older than her would do, that is was strange how escaping death lasted a lifetime, while death itself came in an instant. No time to think, to remember, to say goodbye.

  But nothing came.

  She dared to take a peak. The man was standing there, gun in hand, ready to shoot. Yet, he wasn’t moving. His gaze was fixed on her back. Mouth hanging open, confused, uncertain.

  What’s he looking at? She wanted to see for herself, suddenly afraid there was some horrible bug creeping on her skin.

  “That’s–” the man began, slowly raising his eyes to meet hers. He was hesitating, like there was something he needed to tell her.

  Alice was about to ask what it was, why the hell was he looking at her like that, but then she noticed Adrian. He was creeping up behind the man, hands held out in front of him.

  She understood what he was about to do, and quickly ducked her head between her hands.

  Adrian pushed. There was a gasp, and Alice felt them man trip, trip over her, then a swift movement of air. She looked up, just as he went tumbling down the stairs before them. There were moans and thumps, and then something inside the man cracked, and he lay still.

  She felt something warm against her naked skin. Adrian was draping his own jacket over her. He helped her up.

  “What was it, Ady? Why was he looking at me like that?”

  Adrian shook his head. “I don’t know.” But there was a strange ring to those words, a brief hesitation that didn’t sound right.

  “Come on, Ally,” he said, as if he didn’t want to talk about it. “There might be more of them coming.”

  She wanted to insist, but he was right. They had to get out of there.

  They ran down the stairs, climbing over the man (he was lying face up, eyes closed, arms and legs sprawled on the stairs), desperately trying to find a way out.

  And as t
hey rushed through the cold rooms and corridors of that ancient castle, Alice wondered why Adrian had lied to her, why he was so afraid of telling her what he’d seen on her skin.

  Chapter 3

  The Priest

  It was with a fleeting sense of disbelief that Paul got down on his knees.

  All around him, the exhausted, bewildered survivors of the attack did the same. Heads bowed, knees folded beneath them. The timeless pose of the defeated.

  In the prolonged quiet of breaths held, Paul felt a discomforting sense of relief. Not his, but of those surrounding him, behind the broken castle gates. Waves of tortured comfort, rippling through the crowd.

  The battle was over, the roar of violence gone. This dark man now offered silence and peace, their allure strong, despite the fear. Paul was afraid that the people of Bately were willing to accept this bloodstained offering.

  Stockholm syndrome? Is that what it is: the early signs of giving up, gratefully bowing our heads to our captors?

  He felt it creep inside himself, too. If submission was the price to pay for peace and quiet, then perhaps it was a price worth paying. After all the bloodshed, maybe this would do – living humbly under an iron fist. Imprisoning them, yes, but also protecting them.

  “Fuck this,” Cathy whispered.

  Paul almost laughed. This was true gratitude, what he was feeling now. Two rude words from Cathy, and he was suddenly free from the mesmerising spell that man had cast upon them.

  “Yes,” he said, with a sideways glance to his friend. “I couldn’t have put it better myself.”

  She managed a smile. There was no plan yet, but they would somehow avenge their dead friends, and free Bately.

  “Now rise,” the man in black said finally. He told them they could go and mourn their dead. A woman, one of the recent arrivals from what-was-Europe, howled a blood-curdling howl, and dashed forward. Others followed.

  “Pablo, you dropped this.”

 

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