Escaping Darkness- The Complete Saga

by E S Richards

  He was low on food and water and in reality had no idea where he was. Setting out from his home, he’d borrowed Tom’s last surviving horse, riding it until the poor animal’s legs gave out. It had almost been lame anyway, unable to breathe properly and by the end of it, struggling to remain on its feet. Michael felt for the animal, but knew he couldn’t feel too guilty about it. Having the horse meant he had covered a lot more ground than he would’ve otherwise been able to.It still wasn’t enough.

  His lungs protested as Michael gasped for another mouthful of air, trying to still his beating heart and calm down. He couldn’t help thinking that this was the end for him. The wind and rain howled around him like an angry beast and no matter how fast he ran, he couldn’t escape its claws.

  Thinking of his children, Michael sank to his knees on the dirty ground and wailed again. He had failed them. Just like he had failed his mother. He was never going to see his mother again and now he truly doubted he would see his children either. Picturing their faces, Michael did something he had never done before in his life. He closed his eyes, pressed his hands together, and he prayed.

  His mother had always been religious. She had tried to encourage it in both Michael and Angelica when they were younger. With Michael, at least, it had never stuck. Angelica was always more inclined to join their mother at church on Sundays, though Michael had never believed in it. He’d never really given religion a chance. Until now. In his last few moments, when he was literally willing to try anything, he closed his eyes and he prayed, whispering the words under his voice as he thought of them.

  “Dear God. I’m not asking for forgiveness or to be welcomed into heaven. I’m not asking for anything for myself—I know I don’t deserve it from you. Please, if you have the power to do anything, please watch over my children. They don’t deserve to die or to suffer. They deserve to live long and happy lives and grow up to be the incredible people that I know they will become. I’m sorry that I haven’t believed in you, but don’t blame my children for my wrongdoings. They are innocent in all of this and they deserve to survive it all and die on their own terms. In bed, when they’re ready for it. Just like my mother. I see now why she wanted things to be that way and I finally understand. I don’t blame her for it either. She made her choice and now, I am making mine. I may not be able to see my children again, but someone can. Please just make sure that someone watches out for them. Please make sure they know how much I loved them and how special I know they are. I love them with all my heart. They do not deserve to die.”

  Having said his piece, Michael collapsed onto the ground properly, gasping for air as his lungs started to fail him. He had known from the second he’d left his home that he wasn’t strong enough to make it to Portland. At the back of his mind, he’d known his lungs were already damaged—much like everyone’s from the town would’ve been. He was going to die, and finally, he wasn’t afraid to do so.

  Lying down in the dirt, Michael closed his eyes and focused on his breathing. In through his nose and out through his mouth, no matter how difficult and painful it became. He thought of his kids and believed that they would survive what had happened to the planet. Yellowstone had destroyed more than he could’ve imagined—and Michael knew it would continue to do so. He could only guess at how the world would change over the coming days, months, and years. Sadly, he would not be around to witness it, but he hoped that his children would be and that they would do better than he had at surviving.

  Chapter 15

  Looking at his companion in the upstairs room of a cheap takeout restaurant, Blake considered what Vic had just said. Did he want to be a hero? All his life, Blake had played the part of either hero or villain in action movies. He had acted them perfectly, knowing exactly where to be in the dramatic moment, knowing how to throw his body into the line of fire or how to dive out of the way of a moving vehicle at the last second. He was trained for it, he was built for it, but he had also never truly done it. Not of his own accord. He had played a hero; he had never really been one himself.

  “Bring it on,” Blake nodded. “Let’s try and save this city.”

  Vic grinned. He had known since the first moment Blake walked into his store that he would be a good partner to have throughout this disaster. He had no way of guessing how long it would last for, or what other situations they would be thrown into as a result of Yellowstone erupting. Vic couldn’t deny there was a part of him that was excited to find out.

  Blake was a confident ally. The stuntman had proven himself very quickly during the fiasco with Jenson. Vic was very aware that many other men would’ve run away when given the opportunity, not wanting to involve themselves in the matters that Vic knew ran the underbelly of the city. There was a lot more to the place than met the eye and already that was becoming apparent. The scene the two of them had just witnessed outside the window was evidence enough of that. Something or someone was trying to take control of the city, but neither Blake nor Vic was going to let that happen without a fight. The first thing they had to do was find out exactly what was going on in their home.

  “We need to track those guys on the quad bikes down,” Blake continued, his sudden feeling of empowerment encouraging him to really throw himself into the act and step up his game. “See where they’re coming from and what they’re trying to achieve.”

  “I agree, my friend,” Vic nodded. “I think someone is trying to take control of the city very quickly. To control a place as large as this would grant a huge amount of power.”

  “Any ideas who?”

  “Hmm,” Vic thought for a moment. “I’d imagine it’s either one of two sides. Either the government has thrown something into effect pretty quickly, or the guys that Jenson worked with are steering us in a more dangerous direction. Definitely tracking them down is the first step in figuring it out. We need to keep out of sight though; things didn’t look all too friendly down there.”

  “For sure,” Blake agreed, trying to remember what exactly they had seen in the flash that ran past their hideaway. It had been nothing more than a large group fleeing their pursuers . The whole ordeal had happened so quickly the two unlikely friends had barely had time to process it before everything was out of sight once again. “They went south, right? Toward the center of the city?”

  “I think so,” Vic confirmed. “You ready for this, my friend?”

  Blake nodded. In seeing people so terrified of what was happening, something inside of him had awoken. He wanted to do his part now and he was determined to not chicken out like he had in the past. This was going to make up for all the times he had walked past a fight without intervening, for the times he’d turned the other cheek when he saw something happen that shouldn’t. He wasn’t guilty of any great misdemeanors—just a natural human instinct to protect oneself rather than put oneself in harm’s way for a complete stranger—but now he was going to change that. Just as Vic had put it, Blake was going to be a hero.

  The two men snuck back out into the street quietly; their rucksacks fastened firmly over their shoulders so they didn’t bounce around and give away their position. Both of them wore pistols on their waists, while Vic also carried a taser and a set of throwing stars—one of his most cherished finds in all his years of collecting weaponry. His store was lined with old artifacts like that, weaponry dating back before the turn of the century. So ancient was his collection that there were some items which he was certain that he was the only one outside of official museums and treasuries to possess.

  Having more knowledge for this sort of thing—or so Blake assumed—Vic took up the lead out of their pair. The tracks that had been left by the quad bikes were easy to see, the wheel spin leaving dark marks on the pavement, the roads dirtied even after just a few days of disuse.

  The city was quiet, as it had been when they first left Vic’s store. Despite that, as they moved along streets and down side alleys, both men got the feeling that they weren’t the only people around. Each corner they turned felt li
ke someone else had just vacated it; it was like they were a part of a large game of cat and mouse. The only problem was they weren’t sure if they were the predator or the prey in the equation.

  One thing that did work to their advantage was the strange sensation of dusk that appeared to be constant throughout the city. The dark cloud that had been caused by the volcanic eruption hung low over the horizon, cutting off the tops of buildings and shrouding the city in a dim light. While it blocked out the light from the sun, which both Blake and Vic appreciated, it also blocked out the heat and made them feel like they were traveling in the dead of winter. It was July. It shouldn’t be cold. And yet, as Blake jogged behind Vic, he could quite clearly see the wisps of steam that his breath was leaving in the air, adding to the smokiness of the entire city.

  Both men felt like they were wading their way into unknown territory, despite both having lived the majority of their lives in Houston. The city just seemed different now. They couldn’t see more than a few feet ahead of them and the ash cloud that crept between the buildings and filled the streets seemed to be smothering them, following them and waiting for them to stop or lose their way. Blake felt like if they took a wrong turn they could very easily get lost in the city, the smoke making it almost like a fairground house of horrors.

  “Voices,” Vic whispered as the two of them stopped suddenly, both hearing the same thing. “Quick. Get inside.”

  They moved in unison, understanding that they needed to get out of sight as quickly as possible, as the sound of footsteps and conversation grew ever closer to their position. There wasn’t time to find a suitable hideout like last time though, the two men instead bundling into a doorway and pushing it closed in the nick of time. They couldn’t see what was happening on the other side, but could hear the dregs of conversation as two men strolled past.

  “…put them in position overnight. Then they’ll get used for the first time tomorrow.”

  “Are we sure everyone will just fall into line?”

  “They won’t have a choice. Survive or die; it’s a pretty easy option.”

  “I guess. It is an impressive idea when you think about it. Reminds me of that old experiment with the dogs. Pavlov, wasn’t it?”

  “Oh yeah, that’s the plan. When the siren sounds we…”

  The rest of the conversation moved too far away for Vic and Blake to follow it, not that either of them were sure they’d done that with the parts they could hear. Both men looked at each other with confused expressions on their faces, shaking their heads to indicate they had no idea what had just been discussed. Only when both of them were sure the coast was clear outside did they dare to move and step back into the street, Vic checking both ways with his pistol in his hands before beckoning Blake to join him.

  “What do you think that was about?” Blake asked in a low voice as they continued walking, still following the faint tire tracks that had been left in the road.

  They were making their way closer and closer to the middle of the city, something Vic felt nervous about. He believed that if members of Jenson’s gang were trying to take over the city, then they would have situated their main hub further downtown. Being in the epicenter of the city made Vic believe that someone with a little bit more power was trying to tighten their grip even firmer.

  “I’m not sure,” Vic shook his head, deep in thought trying to connect the dots. “I don’t like where this is heading though. I don’t think we’re going to enjoy what we find at the end of this.”

  “Me neither,” Blake pondered. “It looks like the roads around here have been cleared. This seems like a fairly major operation.”

  Vic nodded, keeping a firm hold on his gun as the pair rounded yet another street corner. It was an action that turned out to be a wise decision, both Vic and Blake instantly recoiling as they spotted several men in uniform walking about further down the road. They were almost dead center in the city now, the start of the large theater district visible in the distance. It was a place Blake was extremely familiar with, often acting in small plays around there when the bigger pictures weren’t paying as much.

  “Jeez,” Blake exhaled, catching his breath as he and Vic froze to make sure they hadn’t been spotted. “That looked crazy down there.”

  “Crazy,” Vic repeated. “I think we should get closer.”

  “What?” Blake furrowed his brow, trying to make sure he had just heard his companion correctly. “Get closer? Are you nuts? I didn’t like the look of what was down there.”

  “Me neither, my friend,” Vic replied calmly, holstering his pistol at his waist while they talked. “But how are we supposed to find out what’s happening here if we don’t pick up a few more clues? If we go back now, then we don’t have any more information than we started the day off with.”

  Blake chewed on his bottom lip, annoyed by the fact that he knew Vic was right. The Ukrainian knew what he was talking about. If the two of them stood any chance of understanding how life had changed in their city, they had to take a few risks to get the answers. Stifling a cough, Blake nodded and made it clear to Vic that he was on board with the plan. That was all the indication the older man needed, poking his head back around the corner of the street and quickly formulating a plan.

  Less than half an hour later, the two men were lying on their stomachs, crawling across one of the lower rooftops in the city that hung over a street corner. They’d seen a van pull up and unload onto the corner earlier, people filing out and being escorted into one of two buildings by men in uniform. What they weren’t certain of was why people were being rounded up and why they were being taken away. They needed to either witness more of what was happening, or get lucky with an overheard conversation. With the ash cloud camouflaging them to some extent, moving across the rooftops had been the easiest option for Blake and Vic. They were finally in the action zone, close enough to try and gather a real explanation for what was happening.

  Blake strained his ears to listen. Even though they were close now, there was a lot more happening. He found it weird that there were soldiers roaming around the theater district. It wasn’t a place that was equipped well with weaponry nor an area that would be the best to defend. All it held were large amphitheaters, stadiums where thousands of people could gather at once. Perhaps that was why it had been chosen; the vans continuing to arrive and empty people out into the streets.

  “They’re just kids,” Vic whispered in Blake’s ear as the next load of people arrived, both of them watching as close to thirty children were pulled out and marched off in lines, boys going in one direction, girls in another. “They don’t look older than sixteen, some of them.”

  “I thought that earlier,” Blake puzzled to himself, remembering how young some of the—what should he call them, prisoners? Captures? Hostages?—looked. “I haven’t seen anyone who looks over the age of twenty-five.”

  “They don’t look like they’re in danger though,” Vic added. “They’re not being held at gunpoint and they’re not really being threatened.”

  “But they have all been rounded up,” Blake interjected. “And those people we saw running in the street earlier? They didn’t look like they were particularly enjoying what was happening to them.”

  “True,” Vic nodded. “You make a fine point, my friend. This is peculiar indeed, very peculiar.”

  Blake chewed on his bottom lip again, desperately trying to figure out what was going on. The dark ash cloud hung so low over the city it felt like it was barely an inch or two above him, the weight of the cloud pressing down on Blake’s body as he became more claustrophobic and paranoid about what was happening.

  Children were being rounded up and separated, boys and girls in different buildings. And where were the adults? The occasional sound of gunfire had echoed through the city throughout the day, making Blake assume the worst for whoever was unlucky enough to cross paths with the wrong people. Was it the soldiers? He struggled to decide whether they should be called that, their uniforms
mismatched and their regimen less than perfect.

  Still, they were taking control. Very quickly they had formed a powerful faction that was overpowering the city and enforcing its own rules. Blake didn’t like it and he could tell that Vic felt the same way. This was their home and neither of them felt comfortable watching it change in front of their eyes. The eruption was one thing, but these domino effects were happening too quickly and too dangerously for either of them to agree with. They had to do something, one way or another; they would not let Houston fall.

  Chapter 16

  Keeping his head held high, Chase refused to show any weakness to the members of the Authority who shepherded him inside. Even when Riley was led away from him into a separate building, he remained stoic in his mannerisms, determined not to break down and cry or try to fight and give away his strength. Bundled in the back of a dark van, he and Riley had shared a few short but important words with one another. They were a team and being kept apart didn’t change that. Chase knew Riley would take care of herself and that, in turn, he would find a way for them to be back together again as well.

  “Name?” A uniformed woman who guarded the entrance to the building asked. Looking up, Chase recognized it as one of the many theaters that Houston was home to—the theater district itself booming over the last ten years and the city becoming increasingly known for its culture.

  The man who stood to Chase’s right looked down at him, waiting for the sixteen-year-old to answer. “Chase,” he spoke begrudgingly. “Chase Clarke.”

  The woman at the entrance scribbled his name down on a piece of paper, not even bothering to look up and see who she was talking to. “Age?”

  “Sixteen.”