Escaping Darkness- The Complete Saga

by E S Richards

  “The reports we’re receiving from across the state are promising,” one of the founders—Samuel Jefferson—announced below. He claimed he was an descendant of Thomas Jefferson, his reasoning for his position of power, but Freddy wasn’t sure if he truly believed the rumor. Many others did though, allowing Samuel the respect and power he carried through the Authority.

  “Our brothers at the border are set up and working hard to maintain the barrier. No one else is to come in or out of the state. We’re all in agreement that if we want to be able to expand our course of action across the country, we have to acquire total dominance in Texas first.”

  A chorused murmur of agreement rippled around the room, a few men clapping or tapping their canes on the ground to make noise. Samuel Jefferson waited for the noise to die down before continuing, looking around the room and enjoying the attention being thrown in his direction. He lapped it up like a thirsty dog, hungry for recognition and acknowledgement.

  “Our first center in Houston has run into some trouble,” he continued. “Reports of a rebel faction in the city are coming through, the rebels revolting despite our best offers and storming the center—freeing the chosen ones held within.”

  Boos filled the room now, the men all sharing the same unanimous opinions about what they wanted for their world. They wanted a world that they could control, a world where people fell into line and where there were no surprises waiting around the corner. They believed in a class system where certain people were better than others and their lives and rewards reflected that. The new regimes centered on equality were a thing of the past now; Yellowstone had made sure of that. The world was starting again from the beginning, and they were ready to sculpt it how they saw fit.

  Freddy couldn’t help but get caught up in the atmosphere. He loved it. It made him feel alive. There was a passion in the room that he had struggled to find in any other walk of life, and it filled him with excitement and determination. Being with so many likeminded individuals was a blessing, the feeling made even better through knowing that they were actually being successful. They had talked about their plans for years, now finally—finally—it was coming to fruition.

  “We are open to ideas,” Samuel continued to speak, “on how to quash the rebellion and regain control of the city. We look to the inspired individuals among us to come forward with their vision, guiding the Authority into the future.”

  Freddy felt his cheeks flush with heat. This could be his moment; his opportunity to make everyone look at him and see him for the person he was—not just for being Roger Hartley’s nephew. He squeezed his eyes shut and begged an idea to come forward, something that would make everyone turn to look at him and say “wow, that Freddy knows what he’s talking about.” He begged the idea to come to him, chewing so ferociously on his bottom lip that he drew blood, yet still he had nothing. There was no great idea in Freddy’s head. He was doomed to be one of the divinely uninspired forever.

  “Fear not,” Freddy’s uncle’s voice boomed out around the room, forcing Freddy to open his eyes and look down at where the man spoke. Roger locked eyes with his nephew almost immediately as a cruel smirk crept over his face. “For those of you without ideas, we still have a role for you here. We need more foot soldiers on the ground in the city to increase our numbers and our control over the civilians. It might not be the most glamorous option, but it is highly respected. Those of you who volunteer to go into the city will be heroes putting your lives on the line for the greater good of the Authority.”

  Freddy’s heart sank. Looking over at his uncle, he knew already that going into the city was the path that had been chosen for him. He was entirely committed to the Authority, he just felt like he wasn’t good enough for their vision. As Freddy saw the slightest of nods from his uncle, he felt his fate being sealed. He would be a foot soldier from now on, battling on the front line to try and take over Houston and bring the Authority’s vision first to the city, then the country, and then—one day—to the world.

  The scripture of the Authority was simple: rid the world of people who were impure and those who didn’t carry what they defined as the superior bloodline. To an outsider, Freddy knew that made them sound like they were misanthropists or radicals or even racists, but the members of the Authority were more than that; they were better than that. They were a brotherhood dedicated to surviving and thriving. It was like one large family, each member tied together in some way greater than blood. Greater than any bond anyone on the outside could understand.

  That was why they were gathering children from Houston—and hopefully later across the country—so that they could ensure their bloodline continued. It was a simple process that had been used by great rulers and leaders in the past, though none had managed to be entirely successful. No one knew entirely why not, although the Authority believed it was timing. Yellowstone had granted them theirs and they were not going to refuse the gift.

  “What do you think, nephew? Will you travel into the city, or have you finally formulated an idea that is worth hearing?”

  Freddy stood in front of his uncle later that same day, still waiting for an idea to come to him. He had done everything he could think of to try and trigger it, desperate for an escape from what he knew his future would now hold. He didn’t want to go into the city and fight on the front line. He had no desire to die, not before he had fulfilled what he believed his full potential to be. But he would. Freddy would do what was asked of him because he was loyal. He was committed to the Authority and nothing would ever change that.

  “I will go into the city,” he replied. “I know that I need to play my part for the greater good.”

  “Excellent,” Roger smiled, pleased that he hadn’t needed to coax his nephew into making the decision. “Your service will benefit the Authority greatly in Houston. You will be given a ranking position because of your name so it is unlikely you will be in the trenches, so to speak. I have made sure of that.”

  Freddy nodded. Even when he was effectively being sentenced to war, his uncle still played a part in where he ended up. Because of his name he would not be one of the lowest ranks in the city, not because of anything he had ever achieved on his own. He hated that fact, while at the same time knew he had to be grateful for it. His uncle had likely saved his life, at least for the time being.

  “Thank you. When will I be leaving?”

  “Tomorrow at noon,” Roger replied simply, his voice devoid of any emotion or feeling. Even though Roger had practically raised Freddy, their relationship was far from loving. Roger had begrudgingly acknowledged custody of Freddy just before his sixteenth birthday, following the drawn-out death of his mother—Roger’s sister. Hattie had struggled with substance abuse from a young age, despite the best attempts of Roger and their parents to get her clean. Some people just didn’t want to change, and Hattie was one of them, an overdose leaving Freddy orphaned as a teenager. Roger had stepped up, even though the two of them had never really been a family. What they had was more like a business arrangement: Freddy learned from Roger, and in return Roger acquired a loyal follower. He was able to impart his views to the impressionable teenager and when the Authority started to increase their ranks, Freddy was naturally among the first to join them.

  “I’ll be there to see you off,” Roger continued speaking, his monotonous voice not once breaking as he discussed saying goodbye to his nephew. “I don’t know when I’ll see you again after.”

  “Understood,” Freddy nodded, wishing he could find a way to stay and impress his uncle. He hated leaving like this. He felt like a failure, like he had let the man down. “Thank you for everything you have done for me, Uncle. I hope I can make you proud.”

  “Just remember your last name,” Roger replied, his main concern being the legacy that was left from his name. “Remember who you are fighting for.”

  Freddy felt an added boulder of pressure land on his shoulders, desperate not to fail. “I will,” he replied. “I give you my word.”<
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  With a firm nod, Roger Hartley exited Freddy’s room and left his nephew to prepare. There would be no hug goodbye or emotional farewell. Freddy knew that conversation was the best he was going to get, and he also knew it was all that he deserved. No matter how hard he tried, Freddy knew he just wasn’t good enough. It was okay—he would do his best—but he had always been taught that sometimes that just wouldn’t cut it. Just like how Roger had told him his mother had been a failure, Freddy believed he was doomed to be the same.

  Gathering up his few possessions in preparation for his departure the next day, Freddy wondered what the city would hold for him. As a unit, the Authority was gathering up all the children in the area—those under twenty-one who were regarded as still receptive to change. In truth, they weren’t interested in everyone, just those who they deemed pure enough to carry on the bloodline, but to placate the adults and parents they rounded up everyone, showing no prejudice and leading the outsiders to believe that they were doing them all a favor.

  It was genius. Freddy wished he had been the one to come up with it, the expertise and knowledge behind the plan far greater than anything he could come up with himself. No, that had been his uncle’s work, the great Roger Hartley devising the path that the group—and eventually the world—would follow.

  That was the dream: that one day, the entire population would fall behind the Authority’s ranks and eventually, everyone would live by their mantra. One day. Freddy saw it in his dreams often, a world that he and everyone else could be truly proud of. Now his only reservation about it was whether he would live to see it happen. Whether he would truly be a part of it, one of the chosen ones, like he had always imagined.

  Chapter 4

  Marcus sat behind the wheel of the Jeep, his hands cupped over his mouth so he could breathe into them and attempt to keep warm. Outside was freezing and without the engine on, the car wasn’t much better. His breath hung in the air like smoke when he exhaled, leaving a hazy dew similar to the one the ash cloud had left behind. Several hours had passed since Mia, Jadon, and Jesse walked away from him, preparing to act out phase one of their plan. Since then, Marcus had seen no sign or signal beckoning him forward. He was completely blind as he waited, the time ticking by and leaving him isolated and alone with his thoughts.

  More often than not, they were focused on Harper and his baby. He closed his eyes and pictured his girlfriend’s face, hearing her voice in his ears and breathing her scent in through his nose. If he focused hard enough, Marcus could almost make himself believe that he was in her arms rather than lost in the desert just outside Texas. His situation seemed incredibly bleak, but he refused to give up hope.

  Marcus had known Harper was the girl for him pretty much from the moment he laid eyes on her. He remembered their first date: the red and white checked shirt she had worn as they went out for dinner, the cut of it not giving anything away, doing just enough to entice Marcus and make him want more. They had eaten nachos and watched the football game, slowly edging closer to one another in the booth as the evening wore on and they both yearned to touch. Their first kiss had been magical, making Marcus feel more alive than he ever had and further solidifying the conviction he had that Harper was the girl for him. After that, the rest had been history.

  Thinking about her now, Marcus struggled to convince himself to stay still. Mia and the others were waiting for him and he felt the urge to get moving and help them, push things forward so they could get to Houston and then, eventually, to Philly as well. He hated being sidelined—it was just like not being picked for first string on the team. Sitting on the bench did not go down well with him.

  While technically there hadn’t been a signal, more hours had passed than they’d all agreed would be necessary to sort themselves out at the barrier. Marcus didn’t want to jump to conclusions, but he worried that meant that something had gone wrong. As the final team member, it was his duty to make sure everyone else was okay. Perhaps he had been waiting around for too long; perhaps Marcus needed to take matters into his own hands.

  Sliding the key into the ignition, Marcus held it there for a moment, considering what he was about to do. Was this the right thing? If he barreled ahead and ruined whatever Mia and the others were doing, then he could ruin their whole plan and their chances of getting into Texas. On the other hand, if something had gone wrong and they needed him, he would never be able to live with himself if he just sat by and waited.

  “Screw it,” he muttered to himself, twisting the key and allowing the engine to roar to life before he could change his mind. The sound from the Jeep filled his ears and likely the surrounding area too, causing Marcus to wince and hope that no one could hear it. He wasn’t exactly sure what his plan of action was, but sitting around wasn’t cutting it anymore. Something had to be done.

  ***

  “Come on,” Jadon demanded, facing the two members of the Authority who blocked the exit of the dormitory and refused to let them out. “This is our country too. This is our home. Tell us what’s happening here.”

  “Okay,” one of the men replied, walking forward and cracking his knuckles with a cunning smile on his face. “You might want to sit down for this.”

  Mia didn’t like what was happening one bit. The two armed guards looked aggressive and up for a fight, and now both Jesse and Jadon were happily squaring up against them. While her friends were larger and carried more muscle, brute strength was nothing against a real weapon like the guards wore at their waists. The last thing she wanted was a fight to ensue in the enclosed dormitory, no happy ending possible no matter which way Mia assessed the situation.

  “Come on then,” Jadon enticed the two men. “What’s the big secret? Give us the truth about what’s happening here, or do you not even know?”

  “We’re saving this country from runts like you,” one of the guards spat, angered by Jadon’s words. “The volcano erupting was a sign for us to act. This is our time. We’re going to take back the world and rid it of scum like you.”

  “What did you call him?” Jesse shouted back, enraged by the hatred coming from the guard. All his life he had been subject to that sort of abuse because of his appearance and where he came from. It pressed a button unlike anything else, lighting a fire in his belly that made him angry and desperate for revenge. “I’d back off if I were you.”

  “Really? And you’re going to stop us, are you?”

  “You’re pathetic. The volcano should’ve swallowed you up when it had the chance.”

  Jadon huffed, equally as riled up as Jesse as they both teetered on the edge of blowing up. They weren’t naturally aggressive young men, but their sports backgrounds benefitted from the fact they were pumped full of adrenaline almost all of the time. Since Yellowstone erupted, neither of them had had a physical outlet for it all, so all of a sudden, they both started to feel their fuses burning away.

  “Back off, will you?” Jesse responded, using all his energy to not just lurch forward and punch one of the guys in the face. “We didn’t ask for this. We’re not the ones in the wrong here.”

  Both guards laughed, turning to each other and acting like they had just heard the joke of the year. “Don’t you get it?” one of them sneered. “You people are never in the right. You don’t belong here. In fact, you shouldn’t even be staying here overnight. Hargreaves never should’ve let you in.”

  “Well why don’t we make that right, eh?” the other guard suggested with a smile. “Maybe you all should chill out outside.”

  “Yeah!”

  With a sudden surge of energy, Mia jumped backwards as the guards lunged toward them. Things had very quickly spiraled out of control and the tension in the dormitory had heightened, abruptly reaching its breaking point. She didn’t know where to move or how to react as one of the guards grabbed for Jesse, only stopping because Jadon threw his body in the way, his fist connecting with the guard’s face. A crunching sound echoed through the room and everyone paused for a second. Blood coated
Jadon’s knuckles and the guard’s face, both of them looking at the red splatters for a few brief seconds before all hell broke loose and Mia was forced to duck for cover. One thing was for certain: things weren’t going according to plan.

  ***

  Marcus sprinted across the road, the binoculars he wore around his neck banging against his chest as he ran. His fingers had already turned numb after less than a minute outside, but he had to get closer so there was more light to see by. The Jeep was too loud to drive any closer, which left him with the only option of putting his boots on the ground and going after Mia and the others on foot—at least for the time being.

  It wasn’t the visuals that gave away that something was wrong at the border crossing. One completely distinguishable and easily recognizable sound rang out and pierced Marcus’s ears, telling him that his friends needed help: gunshots. He’d been watching the border for several minutes from the comfort of the Jeep after driving it closer, so as the harrowing sound of a weapon being fired filled the air, he knew he had to stop waiting around and act.

  Quivering behind a sign for the border, he held the binoculars to his eyes and peered through the glass. The light was dim at best, but Marcus could finally now make out shadows running into one specific building at the crossing. Everyone left their posts and headed in that direction, leaving the remainder of the crossing unprotected and potentially vulnerable. In a split second, Marcus realized that this could be the signal he had been waiting for. This could be his moment. He had to move fast.

  Dashing back across the road, he leapt into the driver’s seat of the Jeep and turned the key, sparking the engine to life and readying the vehicle for the charge. He turned the headlights up to full beam, illuminating the road in front of him completely as he started to drive. No one was outside at the border anymore, the place deserted as everyone flocked toward whatever chaos was erupting inside the small building. Marcus didn’t even have time to guess, he just focused on the road and the barrier he was about to charge into. There was a temporary fence for him to smash through before the sort of no-man’s-land where the buildings were set up, then the actual border and the open road into Texas.