After the Storm (Book 3): Survival

by Ryan Casey

  I didn’t want to look inside my rucksack for fear that everything in there would be totally drenched.

  I just had to get to shelter, and then address each problem as it arrived.

  I felt the rain getting heavier. When I looked up, I realised I’d stepped out of the main canopy of trees. Part of my route involved leaving this canopy, I thought. But that’d mean getting even more soaked. I had to assess what was more important to me right now—getting to York quicker, where my wife was, or finding somewhere to stay tonight.

  I concluded that I wasn’t going to make my journey any easier if I didn’t get any rest, and especially if I was going to be drenched tomorrow. I decided to head back into the trees. The rain didn’t ease much when I was in there. The ground was slushy, the weather not quite cold enough to freeze—don’t let that fool you, though, it was still cold as shit.

  I had to find some kind of cabin. I had to find somewhere to stay.

  I couldn’t stay out here in this torrential rain much longer.

  I wiped the water from my eyes and made sure Bouncer was still by my side. He didn’t seem too fazed by all of this, just trotting along beside me. I squinted into the dark and wished I had a working torch. I needed to look at my map. If I even had much of a map left.

  I reached into my pocket for it, and my stomach sank.

  I couldn’t see the map anyway, with the darkness, but in all truth, I didn’t need to.

  The map was nothing more than a wet rag. Like a damp handkerchief.

  I gritted my teeth and threw it down to the ground. I stamped on it in anger.

  Bouncer looked at me, confused.

  “Yeah, this is what we do when we’re mad,” I said. “We stamp on inanimate objects. Keeps us sane.”

  Bouncer didn’t look convinced.

  I shook my head and decided to make the bold move to take a look inside my bug out bag. The stuff in there was no doubt wet already. Getting it much wetter wasn’t exactly going to make a world of difference.

  I opened the bag and reached my hand inside it.

  Sure enough, everything in there felt drenched. My change of clothes. My first aid kit. Even my bow drenched to the point of ruin.

  “Shit,” I shouted, tightening the bag up again. “Useless shitting thing. Useless shitting thing!”

  I leaned back then against a tree. I prayed to whoever was up there, watching over, for the rain to stop sometime soon, as my teeth chattered against one another, and as my hunger increased.

  But whoever was up there wasn’t listening. He probably relied on electricity to transmit messages, receive prayers, too.

  Bouncer sat beside me and rested his head on my lap. He was more soaked than me, so I wasn’t exactly impressed that he was wetting me even more.

  But I let him lean there anyway. It was nice to have his warmth.

  “It’s gonna be okay, lad,” I said. “We’re gonna get through this, you and me.”

  I wasn’t sure how long I lay there, perched against the tree. I wasn’t sure whether I closed my eyes and nodded off. All I knew was that I was cold, wet, and hungry. My feet were starting to blister. When I stood up, walking was going to be painful.

  I thought about Olivia again, and I prayed that she was okay back home.

  Then I thought about Kerry.

  I had a niggling thought. A thought that knocked me in the gut nearly derailed me.

  What if she wasn’t in York?

  What if this journey was all for nothing after all?

  No. I couldn’t let myself think that.

  She’d be there. I was going to find her.

  The rain lashed down some more.

  I felt my eyes growing heavy, and I let them. I needed some sleep. Anything to keep my body strength up, even in such torrid conditions.

  But just before they closed completely, I heard something.

  I opened my eyes. I’d heard voices. Definitely voices, somewhere in the distance.

  I kept very still. As I stayed there, I realised I must’ve just been half-asleep. Another imagining. Another false beacon of hope.

  My eyes started to drift off again, and I felt the warmth of a non-existent fire cover my body.

  Then, I saw a light.

  This time, it definitely wasn’t a dream.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  I saw the light, and I wasn’t sure how to react.

  At first, I thought I was just hallucinating. I was cold, I was wet, and I was hungry. Perhaps I was just seeing what I wanted to see. Some kind of beacon of hope that my mind was inventing.

  I blinked a few times, making sure I was definitely awake and that this wasn’t some kind of dream.

  It wasn’t. There was definitely a light up ahead.

  It looked like an actual light.

  I stood up, immediately feeling vulnerable to my surroundings, like I was being watched. Seeing the light spark up out of nowhere was creepy as shit. Not just because, well, seeing any light flicker on in the middle of the pitch black of night wasn’t creepy enough.

  But the fact that, if this was a light flickering on… just the sheer ramifications of that blew my mind.

  I walked towards the light, keeping sure to step behind trees for cover. I didn’t like this situation one bit, so the last thing I wanted to do was make myself some kind of sitting duck. It felt like this was a trap. Like I was willingly walking towards my death, or to whatever other grim horrors awaited me.

  But I had to inspect the source of this light. I couldn’t just leave it.

  I shivered as I walked, the rain still running down my hood, right over my face. I’d become less aware of the rain, though. I felt a little bit warmer where Bouncer had been sitting against me not long ago, but not by much. Still, that seemed to pale into insignificance next to this light.

  I couldn’t see where exactly it was coming from. It appeared to be hovering in the middle of the darkness. I knew that wasn’t possible, so I had to be ready to come face to face with someone.

  My skin turned. What if it was someone with a torch? What if they’d kept the torch in a Faraday cage, then used it to find their way out here? Faraday cages weren’t hard to make. In fact, a lot of Faraday cages had been made by accident. All you needed was some heavy duty aluminium foil. Wrap the item you want to protect in at least three layers of foil, and voila, your very own Faraday cage. It was a wonder more people hadn’t thought to prepare, in truth, myself included in that stat. The things I could’ve kept hold of if I had—long range radios, torches, things like that.

  But it was one thing to think it, and it was one thing to do it.

  Still, this light didn’t look right.

  What if it was someone like Danny and his group of cannibals?

  Or worse?

  Because as impossible as it seemed to believe, there had to be worse out there. There was always worse.

  I kept on moving through the trees. The light was getting closer. I could see now that it was in some kind of cabin. Great. A creepy cabin with a light on in the middle of nowhere. Just what I needed.

  I walked hesitantly up the steps of the cabin. It was one of those old places in the middle of rural areas designed to offer ramblers and walkers respite for the night. It seemed so eerie around it. So silent, except for the rain bashing down on its wooden roof.

  I looked at it, and then I looked over my shoulder.

  I remembered the voices I’d heard when I was drifting off. Or had I heard them at all? Was that just my mind playing tricks?

  I couldn’t be certain. That was the terrifying thing.

  I turned back to the cabin and swallowed a lump in my throat. Bouncer stood right beside me.

  “Well,” I said. “Guess there’s only one way to find out what’s behind this door.”

  I took a deep breath, and I climbed the steps.

  I pushed open the door.

  The door creaked open. I listened for movement and voices, but there was nothing.

  Nothing but that light.


  I frowned as I walked towards it. I could see things in this cabin—a bed, some old, muddy walking boots, a few walking sticks. But it wasn’t those that my attention was drawn to.

  My attention was drawn to the light.

  The flickering light bulb, right in the middle of this cabin.

  I walked up to it and raised my hand to touch it. It was warm. It was definitely on. Again, I blinked a few times just to make sure this wasn’t some mad hallucination.

  It was on.

  Power was on.

  I felt every muscle in my body slacken. Maybe the power had been restored. Maybe the government—wherever they were—had found a way to repair the country’s electricity supply. Maybe everything was going back to normal again.

  I looked at this light, and I wondered something else.

  Maybe this was the only light in the world that was on right now.

  Maybe, somehow, the electricity was—

  Darkness.

  I stood in still silence for a few seconds. I could feel my heart pounding. The smell from the light bulb, a slight warmth like burning plastic, was strong in the air, reminding me of what electricity actually smelled like, and that it even had a smell at all.

  I flicked the bulb. “Come on.”

  It didn’t come on.

  I grabbed it again, shook it.

  But again, it stayed totally pitch black.

  I stood there, Bouncer by my side, and I wondered what I’d just seen. What I’d just witnessed. Whether it had any real significance at all.

  My thoughts were distracted when I heard voices outside—for real.

  And then I saw another light.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  I rubbed my eyes to make sure I wasn’t seeing things. After all, I’d just stumbled inside a cabin in the middle of the woods and seen a flickering light bulb, suggesting that electricity was making some kind of comeback.

  But there was definitely another light outside.

  Only this time, I was sure that it was just torchlight.

  I crouched down and crept to the front of the cabin. Through the pounding rain, which still hadn’t let up at all since the beginning of its torrential assault, I could hear footsteps squelching through the mud and the chatter of nearby voices. I felt the hairs on my arms stand on end. In the corner of my eyes, despite the darkness, I saw Bouncer’s ears rise, and he tilted his head like he was just as surprised to hear another sign of life as I was.

  “Ssh, boy,” I whispered. “You be quiet. Just for a sec. You be quiet.”

  I kept low and waited for the voices to get further away. I didn’t want them to get so far away that I couldn’t hear them, just far enough that I knew where the people were heading. The presence of people meant two things. One, opportunity. The chance to find some supplies for myself. Maybe even hope of a shelter.

  It also meant danger. I had to be on guard for that.

  I lifted my head and peeked out of the dusty cabin window.

  I saw the group clearly. They were standing at another cabin much like the one I was inside. They were holding the torch up to it. Above it, there was a banner. In thick black writing, the words, “HOT FOOD! SHELTER! ALL WELCOME!” were written.

  I was in two minds about this. On the one hand, it was straight to the point. It could just be some good Samaritans trying to offer some kind of respite for those affected by the storm.

  On the other hand… that’s exactly the kind of thing a shadier character would write in front of their cabin.

  I had to use my own judgement to decide whether these people were good Samaritans or shadier characters.

  I was so caught in the moment that I didn’t react when the torchlight turned and shone in my direction.

  I crouched down right away. I heard muffled voices, and I imagined them discussing seeing someone in here. I could picture what happened next. They’d come up the steps. They’d gut my dog in front of me, and then I’d follow not long afterwards.

  No one would be left for Olivia.

  No one would be able to save Kerry.

  But the footsteps didn’t come, and the people didn’t come. In fact, I was sure the voices had disappeared completely.

  So after a few more seconds, I lifted my head and looked over at that cabin again.

  There was a candlelight shining through the window. I could see three figures in there. They were smiling, and they looked happy.

  And… wait. Was that a child with them?

  I was still uneasy about all this. But still, I had to weigh up what the best thing to do here was. I was cold, and I could do with some of the heat they were using to cook with, with whatever setup they were using. Besides, that soup smelled good. I could do with refreshing myself.

  I was on guard. Of course I was on guard.

  But I remembered what Kesha and Olivia and everyone said about me.

  I needed to think about more people than just my family.

  There were still good people out there in the world.

  I had to hope these strangers were those good people. I was going to take a chance on them.

  I whistled Bouncer to my side. Then, I took a few deep breaths, opened the cabin door, and stepped back out into the torrential rain.

  I walked towards the cabin, and I felt myself regretting it immediately. I felt like I was walking in on some party, approaching the door in the darkness. It wasn’t too late to turn back. It wasn’t too late to run away. It—

  “Hey.”

  I stopped dead in my tracks. Instinctively, my hand reached for my knife.

  A light was shining at me from my right.

  “Hey. Are you okay there?”

  I turned slowly towards the source of the voice. I couldn’t see the person talking because the light was on me.

  “You speak at all? Or you just gonna stand there and gawp?”

  I didn’t know what to say. To be honest, I felt kind of ridiculous standing here, dripping water. I looked, dare I say it, amateur.

  In the end, I said the only words I could think of. “I saw the sign for shelter. I could… We could really do with some.”

  The light stayed shining on me. The seconds ticked along.

  And then the man turned the torch to his face and grinned in a way that was far more creepy than he perhaps intended. “You’ve come to the right place, pal! Let’s get you inside and get some stew down your neck.”

  I watched the man walk towards the cabin, and I was still in two minds about trusting him. He reached the door, opened it up and leaned inside. Then he looked back out at me, smiling. “Well? You joining us or what?”

  I looked at Bouncer. Then I looked back at the man. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m joining you. If that’s okay.”

  I walked hesitantly towards the cabin. Every instinct in my body told me I was making the wrong move; that I was making a crazy decision, and that I was going against everything I knew was right and sensible.

  But what if my instincts were wrong?

  What if I really did have to start putting my faith in other people if I, in turn, wanted to be trusted?

  What if the key to moving forward was… community? Everyone?

  I reached the doorstep, and the warmth of the fire caressed my body.

  I looked around inside. I could smell the freshness of the stew. There was a fire alight in there, which wood crackled on, the smells of smoke warming and comforting. I could feel myself drying off already, the thought of it making me salivate as I stood there drenched in the rain.

  I saw the people sat around the table then. A jolly looking man with a bald head and big beard wearing a pristine Christmas jumper. A little boy, with curly blond hair, frail and gaunt but alive, bless him.

  I stepped further into the cabin, the promise of respite and warmth getting all the more close—when I saw the third person.

  For a second, I couldn’t believe what I was looking at. I couldn’t put this face with this place. It was one of those delayed reactions, where I wasn�
�t sure whether I recognised this person or not, and yet deep down, deep in my gut, I knew I did.

  Then it clicked.

  The man had a spoon in his mouth. He made eye contact with me. Strong eye contact like he was just putting two and two together as well.

  Then he lowered his spoon. Slowly.

  “Oh,” he said.

  I went to reach for my knife, but I knew that wasn’t going to get me anywhere.

  “I don’t think so,” he said. “Yeah, I don’t think so at all.”

  “You know him, Alex?” the once-jolly, now-mad looking guy asked.

  “Oh yeah. We met briefly, over at the trout farm. Had a little conversation about karma if I remember correctly. This fella here wasn’t caring to share much fish. Let’s see what he has to say for himself now he’s desperate for shelter, shall we?”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  “Well? You got nothing to say now? ’Cause you sure had a lot to say before.”

  I looked at Alex, and then at the people around him. The light from the candle flickered, illuminating the faces of everyone in here. The room, which had seemed so friendly when I’d first got here, had taken on a far darker turn in the space of a few seconds.

  I knew what this was. I’d turned Alex away. He’d approached me—not threateningly, at that—and I’d told him to get away, or I’d kill him.

  Now he was sat around a table with three other people, enjoying the warmth, enjoying food, out of the rain.

  “Yep. Looks like the cat’s got his tongue.”

  The man with the beard grunted. “This the prick you were telling us about, then?”

  “This is the man indeed,” Alex said. He dipped his spoon into his stew and fished out some meat. I salivated at the thought of eating some freshly stove-cooked food. But I knew there was no point fantasising. I wasn’t getting any of this food. In a way, I was going to get what I deserved.

  “Please,” I said. It was all I could manage. “You have to understand the dilemma I was in—”

  “Your name would be a start. Seeing as you know my name. Maybe it’ll go some way towards making amends.”