by Ryan Casey
But then she pushed upwards. Something inside her forced her to do it. Something forced her to battle.
She’d got hold of the side of the opening. Managed to push it aside. Then she’d emerged and gasped for air, dragging herself out of it.
She didn’t stop to look over her shoulder. She didn’t stop to look back.
She just got to her feet, barely able to walk, and forced herself to run.
And now she was still running, still going. She heard gunshots, heard shouts, but she couldn’t figure out how far away they were, couldn’t judge their distance.
She thought about turning back and taking him out because she knew damn well he wasn’t going to stop for anything.
Or hiding, waiting, then taking him down.
But she knew it was too much of a risk.
And Alison was still out there, somewhere.
She tried to gather her bearings, looping around. Because as much as Alison told her she didn’t want anything to do with her anymore—as much as Alison was afraid of her now—Holly still cared about her.
She felt bad for what she’d done. But at the end of the day, it was survival.
And the hardest thing to admit?
She’d do it again in a heartbeat if she had to.
She ran back to where she knew Alison had fallen, gaining her bearings now. She waited in the bushes for a while, hid behind trees, just making sure that Ian wasn’t waiting to ambush her.
When she was certain, she stood up and made her move.
But when she made that move… she didn’t find what she expected.
Alison was gone.
She was nowhere to be seen.
Just a trail of blood leading in no direction in particular, then nothing.
She stood there. Heart pounding. She didn’t know what this meant, but she could come to one conclusion.
Ian had taken her away already.
She saw two paths opening up. On the one hand, trying to save Alison, trying to find her.
And on the other… keeping on going. Keeping on doing what she’d always done. Alone.
The thought of leaving Alison tore her apart. But she was struggling. She needed shelter of her own. She was in big trouble if she didn’t find some warmth.
And right now, Ian would be on alert. He’d be on guard. He’d be waiting.
Holly walked to the edge of the woods and looked down at Ian’s farm.
She felt guilt building inside. There were so many things she wanted to say to Ian and Sofia. So many things she wanted to set straight with them if only they’d hear her.
There were so many things she wanted to say to Alison, too.
But this wasn’t the time. She was strong… but she didn’t know what kind of situation Alison was in. She wasn’t even sure she wanted to know what kind of situation Alison was in.
She just hoped she was okay.
She felt a tear roll down her cheek.
She took a deep breath. Turned around.
And then she headed off into the woods.
Alone at last.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Mike held Kelsie in his arms as she continued to bleed out, and he tried to keep the pressure on her arm at all times.
But it wasn’t looking good.
She was bleeding. Badly. She must’ve taken a passing bullet when that lunatic Theo had fired at them. He’d been so focused and absorbed on getting away that he’d barely even noticed it was happening.
But he had to do something to help Kelsie. He couldn’t just let her bleed out, let her die.
Time was running out. Fast.
Mike slowed down, rested Kelsie on the ground. He looked at the wound and cringed right away. It reminded him of when he’d stepped in that fox trap near to the start of this new world. The agonising pain. The feeling like he wasn’t going to be able to do anything to help himself.
And he wasn’t. He couldn’t.
He’d have died outside if it wasn’t for Claire and her group.
And now they were gone.
Mike examined the wound, noting the larger pieces of the bullet weren’t present. He tore off some of the material from his shirt, knowing full well it was lunacy considering how cold it was, after cleaning the wound with some melted snow, something Kelsie found particularly tough.
“It hurts so bad,” Kelsie said.
“I know. I know. But you’re going to be okay. I’m going to get you somewhere safe.”
“But—but what if you don’t?” Kelsie asked.
Hearing her ask these words was enough to tear Mike apart. A little girl Kelsie’s age shouldn’t have these kinds of questions on her mind. She should be thinking about friends and Christmas and school and everything but this.
“I am,” Mike said, certainty to his voice. “I’m going to get you to safety. I promise.”
He felt bad for making that promise as he wrapped the shirt around her, as he tightened it, trying to ease the flow of the blood.
But the blood just seeped through.
The wound was even worse than Mike had first thought.
He took off his whole shirt, wrapped it all around her like a bandage. His hands were shaking. His body felt icy cold.
But he’d do anything to look out for this girl.
She looked up into his eyes. Her face was turning pale.
“Please keep me safe, Mike. Please.”
Mike leaned towards her, kissed her on the head. He thought about how he’d killed her dad, showing no mercy. And he’d done it with reason, sure.
But maybe there could’ve been another way, after all.
And maybe if he hadn’t… Kelsie would be somewhere else entirely right now.
Somewhere safer than this.
But at least she was with the guy who was going to do his utmost to keep her alive.
He went to lift her, knowing full well he had to find some kind of safe place, somewhere secure, fast. Somewhere that could help Kelsie. One of the other communities.
But then the nearest one was the Hopkins farm, and that was miles away.
It was too far away. Way too far to travel.
Especially when he didn’t actually know what’d gone down there. They’d had a run in with Theo and his people, after all. Who was to say Theo didn’t have a nasty surprise waiting there for them?
He wasn’t sure Kelsie was going to make it that far.
But the least he could do was try.
He started to get to his feet and move again when he heard it.
Footsteps.
Footsteps in the distance.
And then more gunfire.
“Theo,” Mike said.
He picked Kelsie up. Ran off into the trees. He didn’t know where he was going. He’d lost all sense of direction. He just knew that Theo wanted Kelsie. He wanted her for whatever reason; the only reason he could legitimately conclude was that he simply wanted her because he knew taking her away would be punishment for Mike.
He kept on going, and then he saw them.
Up ahead. Someone coming his way.
He stumbled behind a tree. Crouched. Held Kelsie close. He could hear her heart racing against her chest, feel it reverberating into his body, and he held her closer and tighter and thought of little Holly when she was scared of the dark as a child and he just wanted to be there for her again, he just wanted her to be okay again.
He held her tight, and then he looked around the tree.
There were two people there.
Neither of them was Theo. But they were searching the woods for them.
Mike lowered Kelsie down. He reached for his knife. Pulled it out. Because there was no room for messing around. He had to send out a message. He couldn’t keep on fleeing. Not anymore.
He crept up behind the first of the men, and he rammed the knife into his back.
Then he went for the next one.
Pushed the knife right through their chin, into their mouth, silencing them right away.
He fell
to the floor.
Mike went to run for Kelsie.
But then he saw something.
Someone was picking Kelsie up.
They were dragging her away.
She was screaming.
Mike went to throw himself at the man. He had to. He had to get Kelsie back. He had to try, one way or another.
But then there were more people emerging. He didn’t have time.
He landed at the guy’s heels and missed him, just an inch or so away from him, from stopping him running away.
He looked up. Saw him running away, Kelsie in his arms.
“Kelsie!” he called.
He went to stand.
But then something happened.
Gunfire.
Bullets flew into the guy taking Kelsie away.
They flew into the guys approaching him.
One by one, they took everyone down.
Everyone but Kelsie.
Everyone but him.
He crouched there. Looked around, disoriented, not really understanding, not knowing who this could possibly be.
Then he saw someone emerging from the trees.
Three people.
When he saw the outfit of the foreign military, he tightened his grip on his knife, prepared to fight for Kelsie with all he had.
But then the guys lifted their guns.
The guy at the front—bearded—held up his hands.
“Whoa there,” he said, foreign accent thick. “We don’t want to fight. This girl here, she looks like she could use some help.”
Mike stood up. Lifted his knife. “Stay away from her!”
The man sighed, looked at his friends. “It looks like we’ve got a lot of catching up to do, friend. I’m Yuri. And I’ve got a lot to share with you. About the EMP. About my country. And about the world.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
When Alison opened her eyes, she wasn’t sure whether everything that’d just happened was reality or a dream.
When she felt the pain crippling the right side of her head, where the woman had whacked her as soon as she’d got her back here, she knew she couldn’t have just imagined it after all.
She was in a kitchen somewhere, lying on a table. It was dark outside, and it was mostly dark in here but for a candle flickering somewhere to her left. She remembered how things had gone down in the woods. The argument with Holly. The way Holly had looked ready to kill her.
Hiding in the woods.
Then, out of nowhere, a woman confronting her, forcing her back to the farmhouse where she was from.
After that, everything got a little blurry, a little muddled. She remembered stepping in here. She remembered the sudden thud to the back of her skull as she fell to the floor. She’d drifted in and out of consciousness a few times as she’d tried to apply pressure to the wound.
But at one point when she’d woken up, she’d seen a woman above her.
She remembered the feeling of recognition she’d felt about that woman, but she was so disoriented that she couldn’t initially figure out who this woman even was.
But now she was lying on this table… she thought she knew exactly who it was.
Sofia.
The mother of the boy Holly had killed.
Alison went to lift her right hand.
But it was stuck.
Dread crept up inside. She looked around, saw that it was taped down thickly.
She went to move the other arm.
That was stuck too.
Then she tried her legs.
Both stuck.
The dread intensified inside her, then. Because she knew what this was now. Sofia had brought her back here to punish her.
For what reason?
Alison could only see one.
To make her pay for what she thought she’d done to her son.
She was about to tug some more at the tape around her wrists when she heard footsteps behind her.
A door creaked shut. The footsteps shuffled into the room, kept on coming until they stopped right behind Alison’s head, just out of sight.
“Whatever you think I did,” Alison said, voice a little shaky. “I wasn’t involved in that. It… it wasn’t something I wanted. It was something I tried to st—”
A smack. A smack right across her face. She felt her cheek stinging as long nails scratched against her skin.
She felt the venom in that slap. The pain in that slap.
And she knew that whether she’d endorsed what Holly did or not… she just had to take it.
“He was so good, you know?”
Sofia’s voice was weak. It was haunting. It sounded like the voice of someone who had lost everything.
And the voices of those who didn’t have anything left to lose were always the scariest of all.
Because there was nothing stopping them doing something that perhaps they wouldn’t have done if they had something still left to love.
Alison tried to tilt her head back, tried to look Sofia in her eyes. “The girl I was with. Holly. She—”
“Killed my son.”
“I know what she did. And I won’t try to defend her. She’s… she’s too far gone. And she’s been too far gone for quite some time. I was just too worried about keeping her safe that I didn’t see how far gone she was. Not until she killed your son.”
Sofia appeared, then. Her face flickered in the candlelight. She smiled at Alison, though there was no happiness in it, no joy. “It’s good to know my son’s death made you reassess your relationship with someone. Really, I’m glad it served a purpose for you.”
Alison shook her head. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
Sofia shrugged. “Mean it like that or not, you have a choice.”
She walked over to Alison. And it was only when she got close that Alison saw she had a screwdriver.
She rested it on Alison’s head wound, which made Alison wince and try to shift back out of instinct.
“My husband’s out there somewhere. He hasn’t come home. Which worries me. I… We’ve suffered grief before. And he’s easily blinded by it. But still. The fact he hasn’t come home makes me suspect something might’ve happened to him. Something bad. Something to do with that monster you were with.”
Hearing Holly described as a “monster” still brought a bitter taste to Alison’s mouth. She cared about that girl. She wanted the best for her.
But she wasn’t lying when she said she thought Holly was too far gone, either.
“You’re going to get yourself some rest,” Sofia said. “You’re going to get yourself back to full strength. Or even half strength. I don’t care. And then tomorrow, we’re going to get up, and we’re going to do something.”
Alison gulped. She wasn’t sure she liked the sound of what was coming.
Sofia pressed the screwdriver harder on the side of Alison’s head.
“You’re going to help me find my husband. Then you’re going to help us both find that girl. And when you find her… we’re going to balance the books. We’re going to find justice. Together.”
Alison didn’t want to agree. She didn’t want to nod. She didn’t want to hurt Holly or put her in any danger.
But in the end, as the screwdriver pushed down harder against her head, she found herself nodding.
“Okay?” Sofia asked.
Alison nodded again.
“Okay?”
“Yes. Yes. Okay.”
“Okay what?”
Alison’s heart raced. Her throat tightened. She felt everything changing, all around her.
“I’m going to help you find your husband,” she said. “We—we’re going to find Holly. Together.”
“And then?”
Alison closed her eyes. Took a deep breath. Tried not to think of Mike.
“We’re going to make her pay for what she did to your boy,” Alison said.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Holly walked off into the wilderness and couldn’t stop thinking about Alison.
It was night. The darkness was thick and intense. Of course, she shouldn’t feel this way about the dark. She was used to it, after all. She’d seen enough of it over the last few months.
But this was the first time in a long time that she’d been truly alone.
The air was biting cold too. She wasn’t sure whether it was the loneliness too, but it felt colder than ever. It didn’t help that the water she’d plummeted into left her barely able to move for a while. She didn’t know whether she had hypothermia or whatever, just that she couldn’t get warm, and her head spun.
But she had to keep moving. That was the only way she could create any kind of heat at all.
She’d stepped out of the woods some time back, drifted into a small town, which seemed uninhabited. And she was grateful for that, in a way. She wasn’t ready for other people. She wasn’t ready to run into anybody else. Not right now.
Not after what happened with little Tommy.
That guilt pricked up inside her again. But it wasn’t just guilt over Tommy. It was the guilt over the other people she’d killed, too. Not so much the ones she’d taken out with reason. After all, everyone had to find their own ways of surviving.
But it was the other people she thought of. The people like Tommy. The people like that group at the church, the one David had coerced her into killing.
She remembered denying at the time that she’d wanted to kill them; that she’d wanted to take out her frustrations on somebody.
But she saw now that was definitely a part of it.
That outlet for frustration, it was something she needed to face up to and accept.
Only through accepting it could she change.
As she walked lonely through these streets for quite some time, she felt as if a mirror was raised opposite her. A mirror that teased a turn in the road; two choices.
She could change. She could start facing up to the fact that one way or another, she was going to have to accept other people, because if she didn’t, she’d be doomed to be alone forever—and that was no way of surviving in this world.
Or she could stay the same. She could keep on taking her chances. She could keep on getting stronger, but lonelier.
She could see two paths, but her mind kept on coming back to the people she’d had around her.