The End of the World Series (Book 1): Survive The Collapse

by McDonald, Clyde

  Jake let out an involuntary cry of terror as he rushed the man. He knew it had lost him the element of surprise again, but he thought he was past that. As he slammed into the driver’s side, the pair of them toppled to the ground. There was an ‘oof’ sound as the wind was knocked from the driver and the clatter of his gun falling out of his reach.

  But the driver was a natural fighter. His fist slammed into Jake’s jugular and he choked, unable to breathe for several seconds. He stabbed wildly with his knife several times, managing to keep the man from attacking again and buying himself some time. But then the man’s strong hand clamped around his wrist, stopping his stabbing motion and making it hurt.

  The man squeezed his wrist and Jake cried out, certain he was going to have his wrist snapped. He leaned forward on a whim and clashed his head against the man’s neck. The jerk action made the man let go of his wrist and Jake rolled away, still buying himself precious seconds.

  But now, Jake faced a new problem. He saw the man draw out a knife and start toward him. Both of them were on their hands and knees, exhausted by their short brawl already, but Jake was running on pure adrenaline. He wouldn’t give up so easily. He thought of Aby and it was enough to make him surge forward again.

  Both of them swiped at each other several times. Jake felt the red hot nick of the knife on his arm once, then twice. He gritted his teeth and managed to slice through the man’s chest, leaving a long slit in his shirt that was soon soaked with red. It was a small victory, but he couldn’t stop there. He still had to end the whole thing.

  The driver let out a battle cry as he changed up his tactics. He leapt forward and slammed his fist into Jake’s face. The pain almost blinded Jake, landing him flat on his back. He could feel blood pouring from his nose into his mouth. It tasted metallic. He tried to sit up breathlessly, but he felt dizzy from the blow.

  The driver leaned over him, anger in his eyes as he punched Jake again. Jake knew if the driver was more sensible, he would’ve stabbed him instead. But he was driven by anger. He wanted revenge for his friend. Jake had to use this to his advantage. Even as a third punch landed on his face, he knew that his enemy was more powerful.

  But he was smarter.

  He played dead for a moment before he sliced at the man’s wrist with his knife. The man gasped and dropped his own knife. And that was the only encouragement Jake needed.

  He plunged his knife into the man’s stomach for the first time. He didn’t linger on how it felt. He pulled out and did it again. And again. And again.

  Jake’s eyes were closed. The man didn’t scream, but each stab dragged a ragged breath from inside him. He felt a wet splash of blood on his face and began to tremble. He couldn’t take any more. He couldn’t do it again…

  But he didn’t have to. The man finally collapsed sideways. Jake sat there, shaking, listening to the sound of the driver dying. He was too terrified to move. He wished he could go back in time and just run instead. He’d won, but at what cost?

  The night felt silent. The world was dark aside from the abandoned flashlight laying unused on the ground. Jake didn’t even have the energy to wonder why it hadn’t been affected by the EMP. All he wanted was to curl up and cry.

  He knew he couldn’t do that. The other men might return at any point. Aby might need him back at the house. He needed to gather up the supplies from the driver’s camp and get the hell out. But he was traumatized. He’d never thought he’d be a killer. Now he had two deaths on his hands. If he didn’t move soon he might even be forced to kill again. And yet somehow, that horrifying thought wasn’t enough to propel him to move.

  A cold shudder ran down his spine. He was alone with his own thoughts and it was a terrible place to be. He wiped at his face to rid it of his blood. Or was it the driver’s? Or both?

  Jake leant to the side and threw up. It was all too much for him. He had to go. He had to choose to live. After all, that’s what this had been for. A life for a life…

  Jake forced himself to stand up, still feeling a little dizzy from the blows to his face. He shouldn’t even be alive, he realized. His competitor had been so much stronger in so many ways. But yet he was the last one standing. He was the one who had come out on top. And now he couldn’t waste this chance. He’d let himself cry when he got back to the cabin. He’d let the hurt overwhelm him when he was safe.

  He began to gather everything he could find. The men had been well stocked. He was lucky to have killed one of them first - he had a gun of his own, and Jake was sure he would’ve been dead if both men had seen him first.

  They had food, too, and blankets. They had a whole host of knives, some bottled water and bags full of clothes and money. The duffel bags wouldn’t be of much use to him anymore. Money wasn’t going to be worth a thing, he suspected. But he loaded it all into one of the pickup trucks anyway.

  He gathered every little thing he could. It felt like he should take as much as possible to make what he did seem worth it. He’d be able to show his loot to his friends and they’d congratulate him for saving them. They’d tell him he did the right thing. That thought made him stagger. He leant his head against the cold metal of the pickup truck and tried not to weep. He was wasting time.

  He was about to clamber into the truck when he heard the sound of another car approaching. His heart flailed. His first thought was that the men’s friends were returning. But two cars were parked there, so unless they had a third lot of people, it seemed unlikely they were allies.

  As the headlights fell on him, he covered his eyes to try and see who was approaching. They’d obviously seen him and they parked a meter or so away from him. They killed the engine and got out of the car.

  There were four men standing in front of him, holding various weapons in their hands. They had no guns, but they were all relatively young and it made their weapons seem every more deadly in their muscled arms. They looked a little rough. They were all wearing hiking gear, but their faces were streaked with dirt and blood, like they’d recently been in a fight.

  “What are you doing here?” one of the guys asked Jake. He couldn’t think of words to tell them. How was he supposed to explain his reasons for being there? He was covered in blood and alone. He immediately looked suspicious.

  “We heard a gunshot,” one of the others said, glancing at Jake with a nervous expression. “That’s a lot of blood you’ve got on you, sir…”

  Jake looked down for the first time to see what state he was in. His shirt was black with blood. His pants were muddied from his time on the ground. He still had his knife in his hand and it was covered in blood.

  Jake knew how bad it looked. The men were muttering among themselves, obviously wary of him. One of the men stepped forward, holding a baseball bat in his hands.

  “You did something, didn’t you?” the guy growled. There was a gasp from one of the other men.

  “Guys...there’s a body over there. I’m not kidding, there’s a body…”

  Jake couldn’t muster the energy to even try and tell them what had happened. It was like all the energy had been sucked from his body. He just wanted to give in. He just wanted to escape his own thoughts, his own actions. He felt the man with the bat grab his wrist so he obediently dropped the knife.

  “We need to take him somewhere...keep him locked up. He’s a danger to society,” the guy said, his grip on Jake’s wrist strong as iron. “Let’s go.”

  Jake didn’t struggle as they bundled him into their car and tied his wrists. He didn’t say a word. He closed his eyes and let it all happen to him. And then, as the truck drove away, he felt that maybe he deserved whatever cruel fate was coming his way.

  Nineteen

  Deron

  Deron whimpered as he heard the door being bashed in at the front of the house. He felt sick with nerves. He knew his best chance was to stay hidden in the bathroom. After all, the men didn’t even know he existed. They’d only spoken to Aby, and they’d seen Megan in the window earlier, of course. He c
ould just shrink and shrink until he didn’t even exist at all.

  But guilt was stabbing at his heart. He knew that as a man, he was expected to stand up for the women. He knew he was meant to protect them and show his strength. But he’d never bought into that whole thing anyway. Why was he expected to be so strong just because he was the only man? Why shouldn’t he just leave them to their own devices? Aby and Jake had been trouble ever since he met them…

  But they’d also saved their skin more than once. They’d helped Megan out a lot. They were the ones who had kept a level head. Maybe he needed to repay the favour. Maybe it was the one thing that would redeem him.

  An easier option would be to surrender. Maybe he’d be spared if he just gave in to the attackers. He could offer them everything he has and act like their friend. He barely even knew Jae and his friends. Did it really matter if they lived or died?

  He felt sick at his own thought process. He’d once believed he was a good man, but now, it just felt like he was a selfish coward. There was a scream from in the living room. Then, a gunshot. His body jolted at the sound of it. Who fired the gun? Was one of his friends already dead?

  Friends...he considered, you just called them your friends...some friend you are if you leave them to die. He swallowed. There was a lump in his throat. He felt nauseous and tearful and anxious. The living room sounded like a warzone from where he was standing. If he left the bathroom, he might well die.

  You’ll die without Aby and Jake anyway, a voice in his head told him, they’re the only reason you made it this far…

  Deron’s hand was shaking as he reached for the bathroom door’s bolt. He slowly slid it across, trying to be quiet even though no one would hear him in all the commotion.

  The door was unlocked.

  His palms were sweaty and at first, he struggled to turn the door knob. And then suddenly, the door was opened. He was revealed to whoever was out there. But no one came for him.

  He saw the carnage of the room. There was a large man lying dead by the door. Aby was being pinned against the wall by her neck. Megan was screaming and bashing at Aby’s assailant, but she was failing to save her from her fate.

  And that’s when Deron saw the gun on the floor. His breath caught in his throat. He didn’t know how to shoot. He didn’t want to feel the cold metal of it in his sweating hands. He just wanted to run for the door and leave it all behind.

  But before he knew what was happening, he was rushing for the gun. His knees skidded on the carpet, burning his knees as he slid, but he ignored the pain and grappled for the gun in his hands. He aimed it somewhere in the direction of the man and pulled the trigger.

  The blast was so loud that Deron’s eardrums hurt and he fell flat on his back. He didn’t see whether he’d hit anyone. He closed his eyes, too scared to do anything more. He heard someone gasping for air. A thud.

  And then silence.

  Deron had no idea what had happened, but he stayed very still, his heart racing as he waited for some sign that everything was going to be okay.

  “Deron? Deron, are you alright?”

  He opened his eyes. Aby was standing over him, her hand rubbing gently at her throat as she waited for his response. He sat up and looked around. The man he’d shot was still twitching quietly on the floor. Megan was watching the assailant with horror in her eyes.

  It was over.

  And yet it wasn’t. Deron felt as though he couldn’t breathe. His hands were shaking as he lifted the gun in his hand, staring at it in horror.

  He’d used it to kill someone. He’d pulled the trigger. His breaths came out as painful gasps. He felt like he couldn’t connect the man he was now with the man he’d been only two minutes before.

  He was a killer. A murderer. He was going to hell. He threw the gun aside, gasping for air. Aby looked at him like he was crazy.

  “Deron, calm down, it’s okay...you did what you had to. You saved us.”

  Deron couldn’t get her words to compute. He wanted to believe that everything was going to be fine, but it wasn’t. He was different now. He’d killed a person.

  He’d never be the same again.

  He began to cry uncontrollably. Megan joined Aby at her side and the pair of them exchanged a concerned look, unsure what to do. Megan got on her knees and put a hand on Deron’s trembling shoulders.

  “I’m so sorry it came to that...but it was us or them...you made sure it was us that survived. You didn’t do anything bad…”

  “They were bad people. They wanted to attack up because they’re greedy and cruel,” Aby said, trying to sound reassuring, but it made Deron feel like a child. “There was no other way...I’d be dead if you didn’t shoot him. I owe you my life.”

  Deron didn’t want to be owed anything. He wanted to be free of sin. He knew that his actions were wrong. Killing was wrong. There was no way to find redemption for what he’d done.

  He staggered to his feet and the women reached out as though to support an unsteady drunk man. He pushed free of them and ran out of the battered front door. He didn’t feel in control of his own body. He was on autopilot, allowing it to take him away. He didn’t care where he went. He just had to go. Too late, he realized he wasn’t wearing shoes. Pebbles cut into the bottom of his feet, but he told himself he deserved it. He deserved the pain.

  The women called after him, desperately crying his name in the dark night, but even if he wanted to go back, he couldn’t. He couldn’t see another reminder of what he’d done. He couldn’t bear to see those bodies laid out on the carpet, never to breathe again, never to talk or eat or sleep. Those corpses would haunt him forever.

  Somehow it didn’t matter that he’d saved an innocent woman. It didn’t matter that he should be considered a hero now. All he wanted was his innocence back. He wanted to be his old cowardly self. He wanted to be afraid of others, not of himself.

  He focussed on each painful step instead of his own thoughts. He thought of the sharp objects that were digging into his feet and leaving them bruised and bleeding. He’d made it to a main road without having a clue how he got there. He didn’t have any sense of direction, but he kept walking anyway.

  The world had gone insane. He had gone insane, he was sure of it. His thoughts seemed to come tumbling randomly into his head in a jumbled up mess. He felt like a video being played in fast motion. It wasn’t making any sense.

  But the further he got from the cabin, the less tight his chest felt. His breathing got a little easier. He felt good to be away from Aby in particular. He knew the gun had been Jake’s, which meant she shot the other man. She was a killer too. She wasn’t so innocent. She was trouble, and he was glad to be rid of her. And Megan...well, she was sweet, but a burden on his back. Maybe he should face the road alone. Maybe it was the only safe option…

  But as that reality dawned on him, he decided it couldn’t be a good idea. He was a kid lost in the dark. The world seemed expansive and scary and full of danger. Danger that Deorn didn’t know how to respond too. He didn’t even have a weapon now, though he was loath to use one again.

  He needed someone to protect him, he realized. There was a reason he’d hidden in that bathroom. There was a reason he always cowered at the first sign of trouble. He wasn’t a fighter. He didn’t want any hassle. He just wanted to live.

  He needed to find someone tough enough to cover his back. Yes, someone better than Jake. Someone more competent than Aby. Someone less useless than Megan.

  Deron made up his mind. The next time he came across people, he’d make his pitch. He’d show that he was no harm. Yes, he might be a burden, but he wouldn’t hurt anyone ever again, no matter what. He’d find some way to make himself of use to someone. Anyone seeing him would know he was no threat.

  Yes, it was a good plan. He’d show himself as a friendly character. He’d show that he was a good man at heart. Someone would take pity on him. Everything would be okay. Everything would be okay…

  It was then that he saw the car tr
undling down the road toward him. He stopped and began to wave at them wildly. He knew he must look like an idiot, but the thought of sitting on a warm backseat in a car felt so much safer than standing in the middle of the road and waiting for something bad to happen.

  The car came to a stop in front of him. It was a black SUV with tinted windows The door opened and no one got out. He took it as an invitation to get in. He rushed for the door and clambered inside, feeling the tension leave his body.

  The man in the backseat closed the door behind Deron and the car began to move. Deron took a deep breath.

  “Thanks guys, I thought-”

  “Show us what you have,” the man said. Deron blinked in shock.

  “What?”

  “Food, money, weapons…show us what you have.”

  Deron shook his head. “No, you don’t need to worry about me...I don’t have weapons. I’m not here to cause trouble…”

  He felt the man’s fist slam into his face and he recoiled in shock.

  “You think we’re scared of you?” the man cackled. “No. We want what you have. And then you can get the hell out.”

  Deron stared at his feet in shock. He had nothing to give them. He didn’t even have his shoes on. He was trembling as he looked back at the man.

  “I...I have nothing.”

  The man sighed. “So what you’re telling me is that you’re a timewaster...that you just wasted precious moments of my life by getting in this car and giving me nothing…”

  “I...I’m sorry...I didn’t mean…”

  “What a loser,” the man growled at him. “You’re no use to me, man. No use to anyone by the looks of it. You contribute nothing to this world...so maybe it’s time you leave.”

  Derong looked in the man’s eyes and saw the scariest thing on Earth. There was so much anger, so much hate, so much madness in his gaze. He wanted to look away, but he couldn’t. Even as the car sped up and the man began to beat him senseless, he couldn’t stop seeing hell in his eyes.