Death City: A Post-Apocalyptic Adventure (Dark Resistance Book 1)

by Stephanie Mylchreest

  Once, when she had been locked in the garden shed as punishment, she’d used a very similar tool to prise the door open. She’d been in there for hours before she dared to break out. It was summer and she’d been locked in there at midday. The space was stifling and she’d genuinely worried she would die from heat exhaustion. But she survived the heat, and the garden outside had grown gradually darker until it was pitch black inside the small space. When no one came for her, she broke out using the cobra-head.

  “Are you ready?”

  “Yes, I’m ready.”

  “Then let’s go.” Harper switched off her light and they were plunged into darkness.

  “Why did you switch it off,” whispered Sara.

  “I don’t want anyone to see us coming,” she replied. She found Sara’s hand in the dark and they waited a moment until their eyes adjusted. Then they walked back out to the main thoroughfare clutching their weapons.

  “Lukas said they didn’t leave that way,” said Sara, “So we’ll have to go deeper into the complex.”

  They walked down the main thoroughfare, keeping to the left-hand side in the deep shadows. A small amount of light from the moon came through the glass panels in the ceiling. On both sides of the thoroughfare were shop fronts and bodies lay scattered where they had fallen.

  They had traversed about half way down the complex when they heard it: a dog’s muffled bark and then a strangled yell of pain. They turned to each other, Sara’s eyes wide with fear. Harper felt bile rising in her throat and the familiar panic threatening to overtake her. She gripped Sara’s hand tightly and willed herself to breathe, to slow down her heart that threatened to hammer her apart from the inside.

  “It came from down there,” whispered Harper, pointing in the direction they were walking. She tightened her grip on the cobra-head and imagined Tomas’ face, summoning strength from deep inside.

  I’ve felt fear. I’ve survived. I can do this.

  They began to run again, stepping carefully, lightly. They reached the end of the thoroughfare and stopped in front of the entrance to what looked like a large department store. There were racks with discounted clothes hanging on one side of the entrance, and on the other side were two large display tables filled with soaps wrapped in paper and bottles of toiletries. Beyond the entrance was a large, dark cavern.

  Like a cave.

  They paused and faced one another. From inside the department store, there was a scraping sound followed by an oddly echoing voice. Harper caught Sara’s eye and nodded, pointing into the depths of the department store.

  They pivoted and began to walk into the store, their weapons held out in front of them. They moved to the edge of the store and walked around the dark space, searching for any sound or movement. Harper had one hand outstretched, feeling blindly in front of her.

  There was another sound, like a chair scraping on the ground. It was close this time. Harper tightened her grip on the cobra-head. They continued forwards, toward the noise, until they reached the back wall. It was completely dark. “Now what?” asked Sara, her voice barely louder than a breath.

  “They’ve got to be in here somewhere,” replied Harper. She continued along the back of the department store, her hand trailing the wall until she felt the ridge of a doorframe. She pressed her ear to the door and heard the faint murmur of voices on the other side. Gingerly, she turned the door handle and it opened with a low creak. Beyond the door was a stairwell, dimly lit from above. She could hear the voices more clearly now.

  Sara’s tear-stained face was close to hers. “Are you ready?” Harper asked her. Sara chewed her bottom lip, her eyes bleak, and nodded.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Harper and Sara passed through the doorway and stood on the landing. On one side, a flight of stairs disappeared into the basement below, and on the other side, another flight rose to the upper level of the complex. The shadowy, moving light and the voices were coming from above. Harper stole up the stairs first, with Sara close behind her.

  Harper paused at the top of the stairs and pressed herself hard against the stairwell wall. The door at the landing was open and she could hear snippets of conversation in Slovak. She looked back at Sara and raised her weapon. Sara did the same. Harper raised one hand with four fingers and began to count down, curling her fingers one-by-one into a fist. When she closed the last finger, she lunged for the landing.

  She gave herself a split second to take in the scene beyond. It was some kind of storeroom lined with stock. Joe was on the floor with Tomas. The dog lay beside them, his head on his paws. There were two heavyset men, middle aged and dressed in black, pacing around the room. They held powerful torches but appeared unarmed. A woman sat on a wooden chair facing Joe with her back to Harper.

  Joe saw Harper at the same moment and shook his head, an urgent expression on his face. But it was too late, Harper was sprinting into the room, the cobra-head held ready to strike. She raced for the closest man, who turned and looked at her with a sick grin. He yelled something she couldn’t understand and stood squarely, facing her. His fist was like a sledgehammer to the side of her face. She stumbled to the ground, flashes of memory slicing through her mind. She’d been here before. She’d felt blows like this.

  She pushed herself to her feet, could hear yelling and commotion behind her. But the next punch was already coming. She ducked this one, and the man’s arm swung heavily through the air above her.

  Harper straightened and locked her knees. “Come get me, you mother fucker,” she yelled.

  The man charged at her. She focused solely on his angular face and thick neck, on his eyes, narrowed to slits. She heard another yell behind her but was already swinging the cobra-head toward his head.

  The sharp metal tore into his cheek and there was a sickening scream. She ripped the weapon away and saw the deep gash in the man’s cheek, blood pouring from the wound. He dropped the torch to clutch his face and the light rolled away, casting eerie shadows that danced over the walls as it moved over the floor.

  Harper could feel her hands shaking badly but she lined up the tool to take another swing at the man. She’d just drawn back her arm when she heard Joe. “Harper, watch out!” But it was too late, and she felt something hard pressed into her back.

  “Do not move or I will shoot you,” said a heavily accented female voice.

  Harper froze and listened carefully. She could hear her own ragged breathing, and the groans from the man she’d just injured. Beyond that, she could hear Sara sobbing. She put her hands in the air and spun around to face the woman.

  Sara was on the ground face-first. The other man had his foot on her back and she was crying, her chest heaving. Joe had Tomas in his arms, Tomas’ head pressed to his chest to protect the boy from the violence that had just unfolded. Harper noticed his arm had a deep wound and his clothes were stained with blood. Erik was beside them, growling.

  Harper felt her eyebrows knit over her eyes, but Joe nodded subtly, letting her know he was okay. “We knew that you would come looking for these two,” said the woman. She laughed cruelly. “Where is the other man? The one with the beard?”

  Harper ignored the woman and finally made eye contact with Sara. “Are you okay?” she mouthed. She tried to will Sara not to give up, but Sara turned to face the ground and her eyes were hidden behind her oversized glasses and a curtain of blonde hair.

  Harper’s eyes finally came to rest on the woman. She was at least a decade older than Harper and had a hard beauty, hatred sharpening her features. Her mouth twisted into a cruel smile. “I will ask you one more time. Where is the other man?”

  Harper stared at her without saying a word. The woman had pale green eyes and deep brown hair like her own. Without warning, the woman raised the hand holding the gun and struck Harper in the face with her knuckles. Pain rocketed through her head, and Harper steadied herself.

  “Do you work for the EU? NATO?” asked the woman. “What have you done to our people?”

&nb
sp; “We are trying to get out of the city. There is a pandemic,” replied Harper, trying to keep her voice calm.

  “We have been waiting for an attack on the Slovak people. We knew this day was coming,” replied the woman. “They want our country for the immigrants, to create a fucking Islamist utopia… they want to destroy the beating heart of our country. But we will not surrender.”

  “This has nothing to do with me, or my friends,” replied Harper. “Please let us go. We just want to get out of the city. There is a quarantine-processing center at the border. You can come with us. If we are all alive, there must be other survivors.”

  The woman threw back her head and her laugh was maniacal. She had an unhinged look in her eyes when she turned her focus on Harper. “You expect us to believe you; that you are merely the lucky survivors. We will not be going to your pseudo-processing center where you will steal our biometrics. We will continue further into our beautiful country. We will find other survivors, patriots, and mount an attack on those that seek to destroy us.”

  “Please,” said Harper, “We have the boy with us. We want to get him to safety.”

  “Enough!” roared the woman. She stepped close to Harper, taking hold of her hair in a tight grip and twisting it painfully. Then she brought the gun up to Harper’s eye and aimed it at her face.

  Harper could barely breathe. She could see the barrel of the gun a mere inch from her eye, could feel the inhalation and exhalation of the woman, and could see the tiny double cross tattooed on her wrist. “Please,” Harper whispered. “Please don’t do this. We just want to get out of here. We had nothing to do with this.”

  The woman leaned in closer. Harper could see the fine lines around her eyes, the flecks of yellow in her iris. “Do not underestimate us. We are the defenders of our sovereignty and the Slovak way of life, defenders against Bolshevism. We will rise again, with courage, against the system that seeks to oppress us and steal our country.”

  The woman let go of Harper’s hair and took the cobra-head. Then shoved her toward Joe. “Are you okay?” he whispered to her. Harper could see his anger, the way his fists were curled into tight balls. Harper nodded, not taking her eyes off the woman and the two men.

  The man with the bleeding cheek moved closer to the woman. He spoke in rapid, angry Slovak. Harper noticed Tomas’ eyes widen in fear. The other man, his foot on Sara’s back, responded in Slovak and there was a furious exchange between the two men.

  “What happened?” whispered Harper.

  “They ambushed us in the bathroom. They had a gun. When the lights went out, they panicked and brought us here.”

  Harper looked at Tomas’ face and knew the men were arguing about their death. As if reading her thoughts, the woman smiled and said, “My brothers are discussing whether we should kill you all now, or use you as hostages when the time is right.”

  The men continued to argue until the woman intervened in sharp, clipped tones. The man Harper had injured swore and threw his hands in the air, a furious expression on his face. They had been given a reprieve, for now.

  The woman pointed the gun at them, her green eyes flashing, and ordered, “All of you. Get up! Get moving! It is time to forge onwards.”

  “Who are you?” said Harper desperately. “Please, just let us go.”

  “I am Natália,” said the woman. “No, I will not let you go. You have been provided to us to further our cause.” The woman gave a strange, gracious smile and Harper felt her chest tighten uncomfortably.

  Joe put Tomas gently on the ground and clasped the boy’s hand in his own. Harper watched him closely. The wound in his arm had bled a lot, but he was steady on his feet. She felt movement next to her leg and Erik looked up at her, confusion in his brown eyes. He stayed close to the boy’s legs, letting out a low growl when anyone got too close.

  Several feet away, the man removed his foot from Sara’s back and pulled her to her feet by the back of her neck. Without thinking, Harper crossed the room and put her arm around Sara. “Did they hurt you?” she whispered. Before Sara had a chance to respond, a man was upon her, shoving her to the ground.

  “Do not move without permission,” he shouted, leaning over her. Without warning, he aimed a heavy kick at her ribs. The pain was explosive and she closed her eyes, curling up into herself against the next kick. She was preparing herself to roll away, but the attack ended.

  “Get up!” shouted Natália from the doorway. “Follow me!”

  Harper stood gingerly, and she and Sara moved for the door. Joe and Tomas walked behind them and when Harper turned, she saw Joe with a murderous look on his face. He glanced at the far wall where his backpack was resting on the ground, the baseball bat protruding from the top. But Harper shook her head. If they tried something now, these people would kill them.

  They left his bag sitting on the ground in the storeroom, and Harper was grateful that she still had her backpack. She remembered with a flash the object they pulled from the cave which was now buried in the bottom of her bag, and the memory of Wolf almost knocked her down again. But somehow she managed to walk on.

  Natália led the way down the stairs holding a torch, the beam of light cutting through the darkness. At the rear of the group were the two men. They spoke Slovak to one another, one holding the gun, the other Harper’s cobra-head. The group reached the landing and entered the vast, dark department store.

  Natália maneuvered through the racks of clothes and mannequins on stands and Harper and the others followed behind in silence. Sara held on to Harper’s hand tightly. When they finally reached the main thoroughfare, Natália switched off her torch. Her brothers followed suit and in an instant, everything was dark.

  “Be ready,” whispered Harper to Sara, her voice barely audible.

  They stood for a moment as the area around them came into sharper focus. Dim light came from the moon through the glass ceiling above. “No sudden movements—nothing. Or you die,” barked Natália.

  They moved down the thoroughfare toward the entrance, Harper and Sara holding hands and Joe with his arm on Tomas’ shoulder, keeping him close. Harper didn’t turn around, but she was acutely aware of the men with the gun behind them. Natália spoke softly each time they passed a fallen body, and Harper was filled with a profound sadness. Was Natália right? Had someone unleashed this intentionally?

  They finally reached the glass doors and the cool evening air wrapped itself around them. Harper looked outside for Lukas but he was nowhere to be seen. They were on their own. “Soon,” she mouthed to Sara.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Natália paused by the glass doors and peered out into the darkness beyond. Harper could smell smoke and the surrounding area was black, the grid down.

  Natália said something in Slovak to her brothers, who shoved past Harper and moved next to her. The three of them scanned the surrounds. Harper caught sight of the ragged wound she’d inflicted with the cobra-head. The man turned and caught her staring, then growled at her menacingly.

  Natália gave instructions to the men and they moved outside, searching the car park and the thicket of trees beyond. She followed them through the glass doors and watched as her brothers cleared the area. Ironically, the man attacked by Harper now gripped her cobra-head in one hand. The other wielded the gun. Harper guessed they were searching for Lukas. It didn’t surprise her that he’d left without them.

  Harper shifted closer to Joe and made eye contact with Tomas, smiling reassuringly at the small boy. She reached down and patted Erik and the dog licked her hand, pressing his wet nose into her palm.

  “As soon as we get the chance, we are going to have to run for it,” she whispered to Joe. “We may only get one chance to get away from them. How’s your arm? Will you be okay?”

  Joe nodded. “I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.”

  “Where’s Lukas?” hissed Sara. She had a deep purple bruise developing on her forehead and she ran one finger over the swollen lump.

  “Hey! Stop ta
lking or I will cut out your tongue,” the woman called to them. “Come now, it is time to go.”

  “Be ready for anything,” whispered Joe. “These people are certifiably crazy.”

  They walked outside and trailed behind the woman, who kept glancing over her shoulder at them. The two brothers had reached the corner of the building and pressed themselves flat against the wall, edging forward slowly. The woman paused, angling herself so she could see Harper and the others.

  One man leaned out to look around the corner. He held the gun with confidence and Harper appraised him. He was comfortable with the weapon and swept the area efficiently, before motioning for them to follow him.

  “Here we go,” whispered Joe.

  They hurried to the corner of the aluminum-clad shopping complex and stepped onto the grassy rise that lay between them and the highway. Harper took Sara’s hand to get her attention. “I can’t see anyone, there’s no sign of Lukas,” she breathed out. The air was heavier than before, the ash and smoke catching in the back of their throats. Close by, someone’s home was burning. Harper could see the flames several blocks away.

  “The city is on fire,” she whispered with a deep ache of sadness.

  Her father had been born in Bratislava. The city was literally in her blood. But he spent much of his childhood in east Slovakia, the same town from which her grandfather had been abducted by the Soviets after the Second World War. She had wanted to come to Slovakia since she started her European trip. She thought it might help her understand her father, what had happened to him, what had driven him to violence and psychological abuse for all those years.

  You’re a bad, stupid girl.

  Hot tears prickled her eyes. His words always found her. They lived deep inside her, no matter where she was, or what she was doing.

  She tightened her grip on Sara’s hand and they walked up and over the grassy rise, through the thicket of trees, and reached the road. It was as before; frozen in time, a picture of the moment the pandemic hit. Harper glanced up at the moon and wondered how much time had passed since they had left the train station, left Wolf. She wanted to pull out her phone, but she was worried Natália or one of the men might take it from her.