Surviving The EMP (Book 6): Final Stand

by Casey, Ryan

She pushed past Hannah. Past Trent.

  Walked to the end of the street, where she heard the commotion coming from.

  She stepped behind an old car. Peeked around the side of it.

  When she saw what was ahead of her, everything else faded away.

  Jack was standing there.

  Holding on to his body.

  Jefe’s knife pressed into him.

  Hazel, Candice, Mary, Mrs Fuzzles.

  All of them fighting back.

  All of them making a stand.

  Trent rushed over to her side. “Emma? What’s...”

  He stopped.

  ’Cause he saw, too.

  Hannah saw.

  Villain saw and growled.

  Emma swallowed a lump in her dry throat.

  She tightened her fist.

  Clenched her knife in hand.

  And right then, despite everything she’d said, she knew where her loyalty was.

  “Let’s go save our people,” Emma said. “Let’s finish this.”

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Jack felt the pain growing in his stomach, and he knew his time was running out.

  He tasted that strong tang of blood in his mouth, and it made him want to throw up. He could hear voices around him and movement, but he couldn’t make out what they were saying. Everything was so muffled, so hard to figure out.

  He stared at the knife buried in his stomach. Saw the blood oozing from his body. It was strange, standing here, staring down at that knife buried deep inside him. It was like he was staring at somebody else. Like it wasn’t happening to him.

  His knees were growing weak. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could stay on his feet.

  And kneeling on the ground opposite him, Jefe.

  Jefe stared up at him smiling. It was that smile that really got to Jack, too. The smile of someone who had won.

  “I told you, you made a bad call destroying everything I built,” Jefe muttered. But Jack could barely make out his words. He couldn’t make sense of them. It was like life was drifting from his body already. He felt so cold. Wasn’t sure whether it was the breeze. Wasn’t sure whether it was the darkness intensifying the cold like it always did.

  He could only stand there on his wobbly knees and hold his chest.

  He looked up. Over towards the rest of his people. Panic filled him. He couldn’t make sense of anything, only that his people were in danger.

  And he had to stand up. He had to fight for them. He had to...

  He looked past Jefe.

  And in his blurred vision, he saw them.

  Hazel, fighting back. Punching out. Kicking.

  Candice the same.

  And Mary, too.

  Mrs Fuzzles sitting at the side, staring on, somewhat alarmed.

  And as Jack watched his people fighting for their lives... it didn’t matter how much pain he was in. It didn’t matter how rapidly life felt like it was leaking from his body.

  He was so proud.

  Because they were fighters.

  They didn’t give up.

  He looked down to his right and saw Susan lying there, eyes open.

  She looked at his stomach. Looked at that knife buried inside him. And when Jack saw the way her eyes widened, he knew it was bad. He knew it was serious.

  Because Susan wasn’t well. She needed help.

  And she was looking at him like he was the one in danger.

  He looked back around at Jefe. He tensed his shaking fists. Tried to stumble towards him, every movement a struggle.

  And then Jefe just looked back at him and smiled. “It’s a shame I couldn’t keep you around.”

  And then he yanked the knife from Jack’s stomach.

  A burst of pain right in the middle of his body. Felt like someone was pressing a hot poker deep inside him, and the burning heat from it was spreading further and further around his body.

  He couldn’t see properly anymore. Couldn’t see the rest of his people. All he could hear were their muffled shouts and cries.

  He could barely even see Susan and Jefe anymore.

  He just knew he had to keep going.

  He had to keep fighting.

  He went to lift his right foot; to take a step towards Jefe.

  And then he felt his head spinning.

  He felt his left leg giving way.

  He went to put his right foot down for balance, and he fell over, right on top of Jefe.

  Jefe pushed him to one side. He tried to push back, to stand his ground, but he was just too weak. He kept on touching the burning wound in his stomach. Blood. Hot blood. Lots of it, seeping between his fingers.

  Jefe pushed Jack onto his back. Looked down at him. Jack could only make out his silhouette, blurry in the darkness of dusk.

  He wasn’t sure how it happened, but he became aware of a sudden burning pain in his stomach. He cried out. Tried to shake free of whatever was causing the pain.

  When he finally managed to open his tear-filled eyes, he saw what was causing the pain.

  Jefe.

  Pressing his dirty boot on Jack’s wound.

  Forcing more blood to leak from him.

  Jefe leaned down towards him, then. Crouched right over him. Sat on him with all his weight, making that pain and that sickness intensify. Sweat covered his face. That coldness got even colder, making him shiver violently.

  He wanted to vomit. He wanted to get away from here.

  He wanted to escape.

  He wanted to...

  A hand around his neck. A grip tightening.

  And bursting through his blurry vision, Jefe’s smirking, fucking face.

  “I want you to look into my eyes while I kill you. I want you to know that your people are going to go through hell. And that it’s all because of you, Jack. It’s all because of you.”

  For a moment, fear.

  An urge to beg for the lives of his people.

  Jefe tightened his grip. “I want you to know that they’re going to be nothing without you. Nothing. Because they need you. Followers need leaders. And they are nothing without you. I’ll make damned sure of that.”

  Jack felt something, then.

  A lightness in his chest.

  A smile stretching across his face, of its own accord.

  Jefe frowned at him. “What’s got you smiling?”

  Jack felt a warmth on his cheek. He knew it was a tear. He took a deep breath, as painful as it was, and he stared up into Jefe’s eyes. “You’re... you’re wrong,” he said.

  Jefe’s eyes narrowed. “Wrong about what?”

  Jack smiled back at him. “My people. They... they don’t need me. We... we need each other. We’re strong together. Not on our own. Together.”

  Jefe spat on the ground beside him. Lifted his knife and pressed it to Jack’s throat. “Yeah, well. We’ll see about that, won’t we?”

  “Yeah,” a voice said. “We will.”

  Jefe frowned. Just for a moment.

  He went to turn around.

  And then Jack heard it before he saw it.

  A squelching sound.

  Felt a tightening of Jefe’s body above him.

  Saw his eyes widen. Saw him stare down at him like he was confused. Like he didn’t understand.

  And then Jack saw blood trickle down Jefe’s mouth.

  Jack’s vision blurred. He tried to stay awake. His heart raced. He didn’t understand.

  He forced his eyes to stay open as he lay there on the cold, slushy road.

  And then he saw her.

  Emma.

  Emma standing by Jefe’s side.

  Knife in her hand.

  Knife pressed into Jefe’s neck.

  She held the knife down into his neck. Blood poured out, right onto his chest, right down towards Jack. He tried to shake free of her. Tried to struggle.

  But she just stayed there. Knife in his neck.

  “You fucked with the wrong people,” Emma said.

  Then she pulled the knife away and r
ammed it back into Jefe’s neck again.

  Jack closed his eyes. He heard Jefe crying out, shouting out. He heard him spluttering. Heard more of those slicing noises, flesh being pierced again and again. Somewhere over his shoulder, he heard gunfire, too. Heard people screaming out. Shouting.

  He felt more of that warm blood covering his body.

  But as he lay there in the darkness, listening to the muffled sounds around him, all he could do was smile.

  Because he was right.

  It wasn’t just about him.

  It wasn’t about any safe zone, either.

  It was about them.

  His people.

  They were the safe zone.

  He opened his eyes. Saw Jefe kneeling there. Horror in his eyes. Stab marks all over his neck and chest.

  Emma standing by his side, covered in blood.

  He watched Jefe puff out some blood. Watched it drip down her chin.

  And then he watched him fall to the ground beside him.

  He closed his eyes. In the place of the pain, he felt warmth.

  And then he heard more muffled voices above him.

  Felt the light touch of hands, on his hands, on his shoulders, on his chest.

  He wanted to drift away.

  He wanted to go to sleep.

  But he opened his eyes.

  Emma. Hazel. Candice. Mrs Fuzzles.

  And there was...

  Trent. By Susan’s side. Holding a rifle.

  “Jack,” Hazel said, holding his hand. “The others. They’ve... they’ve gone. We fought them off. Trent, he helped. We did it, Jack. We did it. Stay with us, Jack. Stay with us. You’re going to be...”

  But he didn’t hear her.

  Because he heard something else.

  A panting.

  A panting right by his face.

  He turned his shaky head around, and he saw him sitting there.

  His head tilted from side to side. Slaver drooled down his face. His tongue dangled out. And he let out a little whine when Jack looked at him.

  And Jack felt himself smiling when he saw him. He felt tears streaming down his face. “Villain,” he said. “My... my boy.”

  Villain walked over to his side. He crouched right beside him. Licked his face with his smelly breath.

  And Jack laughed. He laughed even though it hurt to laugh. “It’s... it’s okay, boy. I’m here. I’m here.”

  He ruffled Villain’s soft fur with one hand. Thought about the first time he’d got him. The way he’d always been there for him. The way he’d been so loyal.

  And then he felt Hazel’s hand in his right one.

  He looked back around at her. He could barely see her. The others were just figures above now. So much so that he wondered if he was dreaming or hallucinating already.

  “It’s okay now, Jack,” Hazel said. “They’re gone now. All of them are gone. It’s just us now.”

  He closed his eyes. Swallowed a bloody, clotty lump in his throat, which made him feel even sicker. He could hear his people saying things. Hear them telling him he was going to be okay. That they were going to be here for him.

  But as he lay there, shivering, getting colder and colder, he was just happy to have Hazel’s warm hand in his.

  He was just happy to hear Villain panting by his side.

  Feel his soft fur between his fingers.

  He was just happy to have his people around him.

  “We’re going to make it,” a voice said. He wasn’t sure whose anymore. But it sounded like Wayne. “We’re going to make it like we’ve made it this far. Together.”

  He smiled at that.

  Felt another warm tear roll down his cheek.

  “Look after each other,” he said. “Look after...”

  He opened his eyes.

  Somewhere above, he saw a light.

  In that light, Wayne.

  He looked older. More bulky and bearded. He had a hand raised, held out to Jack.

  “It’s okay, Dad. It’s not so bad here.”

  And Jack could hear shouting around him.

  He could hear commotion.

  Even though all of his senses were dulling.

  He looked up at Wayne, and he smiled back at him.

  “Not yet,” he said. “Not...”

  He took a deep breath.

  His vision faded.

  But the light remained.

  Chapter Forty-Five

  One year after the fall

  Emma looked out at the fields, and she smiled.

  She always got up early these days. She liked to be awake for when the sun rose. She never used to get it when Mum and Dad said she should get up early and not waste the day. She enjoyed lying in bed, playing around on her phone.

  But a lot had changed in the last year.

  She wasn’t really the same person anymore.

  She looked at the sun shining over the fields. There were cows in the fields. She used to be scared of cows, but she didn’t mind them now. Just took some getting used to. Really, they were more scared of people.

  A lot of things had changed about her way of seeing the world in the last year.

  She held her bare arms around her body. She wasn’t wearing a coat. It was still chilly in the mornings, but it wasn’t as bad as it had been. Winter was passing. It hadn’t snowed for weeks. The sunrise was getting earlier and earlier. The days were lasting longer.

  And it felt like every day she felt more hopeful about the future. She felt more positive.

  Especially after everything she’d been through.

  Everything they’d all been through.

  She listened to the birds singing in the trees. Smelled the manure in the air that they’d spread across the fields. Every single day, she took it all in, and she felt thankful for what they had.

  Because even though they’d lost so much... they were still here.

  She heard a door creak behind her.

  When she looked around, she saw Susan stepping out.

  Susan smiled at her. She looked pale. Lost a lot of weight after her infection, but she was putting it back on again. Looked a lot healthier than she had.

  “You’re up early,” she said.

  She sat down beside Emma at the front of the farm. Didn’t say anything at first. Just stared off into the distance.

  “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Susan said.

  Emma looked at their surroundings. The birdsong. The feeling of a belly full of porridge. All of it was as close to perfect as they were going to get.

  “It is,” Emma said.

  Emma felt something, then. A scratch against her arm.

  She glared down into her arms at Mrs Fuzzles who lay there on her back, staring up at her.

  “Hey,” Emma said. “Ten seconds of no attention and you’re scratching me? Little shit.”

  She tickled her soft belly. Mrs Fuzzles leaned back, closed her eyes, soaking up every bit of attention she got.

  “You still set on leaving us?” Susan asked.

  Emma looked around at her. She wasn’t sure how to answer that question. She wasn’t expecting to be asked it. Was she still set on leaving? She had everything here. It might not be an extraction point. It might not have power.

  But she’d learned to live with the life they were living now.

  And sure. There were going to be tough times. There were going to be more winters. Harsher winters. And they were going to lose more people.

  But they were together.

  And they were strong together.

  She thought about her parents. Wondered where they were out there. Whether she’d ever find them again.

  And then she swallowed a lump in her throat, and she smiled.

  “Maybe I’ll put off leaving for a little while longer,” Emma said.

  “Good,” a voice behind her said. “’Cause if you leave me alone with this lot, I might just lose my mind.”

  Trent walked through the door, then. Dragged a chair out, perched himself in it.
Another survivor. Another one of their people. Another one who’d made it.

  “Why’s everyone up so early this morning?” Emma asked. “I kind of like my quiet time.”

  But it wasn’t just Trent who walked out.

  Candice followed. Mary by her side.

  Then Hannah.

  And then, last of all, Hazel. Villain by her side.

  Emma stared at them all. Heart pumping. Cheeks flushing. She had a feeling she knew what this was, and she hated them for it already.

  She lowered her head as they all stared at her, face getting warmer. “Please. Please tell me this isn’t what I think it is.”

  The group all stood around her. Smiles on their faces. All staring at her.

  And then they all broke out in the Happy Birthday song.

  Emma looked at her people. She looked at Hannah, that smirk on her face, like she knew how uncomfortable this made Emma and was loving it. She looked at Trent, sniggering away. She looked at Hazel, looking so content, so happy.

  She looked at all of the people around her, and she forced a smile.

  “Gee. Thanks. What next? You going to roll a birthday cake out for me?”

  “Funny you mention that,” a voice said.

  Emma turned around.

  Her stomach sank.

  Jack rolled out of the door of the farm in his wheelchair. His smile beamed. He looked older. Thinner. His legs were wasting away.

  But he had a smile on his face.

  And a cake in his lap.

  One long, bent candle sticking from it.

  Shit. She should never have told them it was her damned birthday.

  Emma smiled when she saw Jack. It still made her sad that he’d not been able to walk since the confrontation with Jefe’s group. But he was still here. They’d got him and Susan away from the road. They’d taken them into the company of another group who helped them.

  And then they’d headed back to somewhere they’d once lived.

  Somewhere that once meant something to them.

  The farm.

  It was abandoned when they got there. Emma didn’t know how long Yuri and his people had been gone. She didn’t know why they’d left. She didn’t know if they were going to come back and what problems that might cause.

  But they were here. And they were together.

  Survivors.

  Jack rolled his way up to Emma. He lit the candles with a match, kept that cake on his knees.