Fighting Darkness: A Post-Apocalyptic EMP Thriller (Fighting to Survive Book 2)

by Alex Knightly

  “When did this happen? What day?”

  “How should I know? I was locked up in that shed across the way.”

  “I think I know what happened,” the woman said. “We met her at the garage. We cycled in there because we heard a car. Next thing we knew… well to cut a long story short, we got out of there in an old Renault with Si and we were chased by four men in a Jaguar. There was a shootout. We thought we’d killed them, but when we went back they were gone. We think maybe some of them survived.” She looked at the man. “If they did, that could explain how they knew something about Si and were able to use it against you. They saw her. They saw the car.”

  Max stared at her. Shame had risen up inside him at the thought of being fooled so easily, but it wasn’t as strong as the panic he felt at the thought of Si being stuck in the middle of a gun battle. “A shootout? Si was involved in a shootout?” His skin felt cold and clammy.

  “Don’t worry. She was fine.” Her lips turned down. “At least, she was until she took off back here.”

  “Shit,” he muttered. “The little idiot. Why couldn’t she just stay where she was safe and not worry about me?”

  Anger and regret bubbled up inside him. All this time he’d played along thinking Harry had her, when she’d been free. Not only that, but she’d come looking for him. It was almost too much to bear.

  “She hasn’t come here, then?”

  “No,” he snapped. “Of course not. Do you think I’d still be here if she had?”

  “I was only asking.”

  Max sighed. She’d been out there for days looking for him. Where the hell was she? He hadn’t even heard of Harry before and he doubted she had either. How was she going to track him down? It almost didn’t bear thinking about. “She’ll have gone back to the garage,” he said. That was the one thing he knew for certain.

  “I’m afraid that’s…” the woman wouldn’t meet his eyes. “She’s not. We checked.”

  “I know about the fire,” he said. “They told me.”

  The woman nodded. “She rigged it all up to trap them and make them tell her where you were.”

  “Wow.” He rubbed his chin. He couldn’t stand around here knowing she was out there in trouble. There was no point in thinking about it when they could be out looking for her.

  “Stand back,” he said.

  They stared at him, astonished looks on their faces.

  “I said, stand back,” he hissed, gripping the hammer and glaring at them until they moved.

  He smashed out the rest of the glass and tried one of the bars. It was as solid as he’d expected.

  “That’s better. I can hear you properly now.”

  “We’ve got to get you out of there.”

  Max grinned. There was something so earnest and capable about the other man. “Let me guess. Police?”

  “How is it that bloody obvious?”

  Max’s smile disappeared. They had work to do. “Take this,” he said, passing out the hammer. “I know there’s a padlock out there. I hear the chains rattling whenever they come in. Try and break it. If you can’t, that’s alright. I can get one of these cars running long enough to ram it.”

  “Give it here.”

  Max felt sick to his stomach knowing she’d been out there all along; that he’d fallen for Harry’s lie. He just hoped his stupidity wasn’t going to get her in trouble.

  After what felt like only a moment or two, the chain rattled outside and the doors opened.

  “Nice one. You saved us a lot of time even though ramming the door is exactly what I feel like doing.”

  “Save it for later,” Clive said, looking around.

  Max turned and followed his gaze to the hodgepodge of old cars from the eighties and earlier. It might have looked like a car museum if it wasn’t for the fact that most of the cars were well-worn rust buckets.

  “Any of them in good working order? We’re a little conspicuous at the moment in Harry’s own car.”

  Max considered it. He’d been working as slowly as he could and exaggerating the problems with some of the cars. “The Land Rover, maybe? It’s not in great nick but it’s the best that’s here. It won’t take me long to get it running. What have you got?”

  “The grey Jag.”

  Max grimaced. “That’s the one they took me away in. Decent motor, though. Have you had any problems with it?”

  “No.”

  “Let’s take that then. Wait outside.”

  Max reached in his pocket and pulled out a box of matches he’d found in a car glovebox. Then he took the oily rag he’d been using to wipe his hands and twisted off the cap of the Land Rover’s fuel tank.

  He struck the match and set fire to the rag. He didn’t stick around to make sure it worked. It would, and he didn’t want to be near it when it did.

  Si

  Si crept downstairs, thankful that the door was solid and not one of those distorted glass ones you could sort of still see through. She knew the stairs as well as she knew anything, so she was able to avoid the squeaky parts.

  Even though her every instinct told her to be cautious, she found herself drawn irresistibly towards the voice that seemed to know far more than she did about Max’s current situation.

  She reached for the gun she’d kept down the back of her jeans. She was armed. Was he? She listened. If things went bad, that was what it came down to.

  “Look, he really needs you.”

  She swallowed. What was the best thing to do here? She wished again that she had Clive or Annie with her. Maybe she’d have been fine with this in isolation, but it wasn’t in isolation. She’d barely slept in more than a week and she couldn’t think straight. She stepped off the last step onto the floor and crept to the wall beside the door.

  “Why didn’t he come himself?” she said, forcing her voice to sound rougher. It wasn’t hard. She was so full of hate and anger that it came easily enough.

  She hated herself for being weak and breaking the silence, but what choice did she have? What if Max needed her? She held her breath, telling herself she hadn’t lost anything by speaking to him. He’d heard her slap that stupid weight against the wall so he knew she was in.

  The guy didn’t sound at all surprised. “It’s not safe.”

  “What do you mean? Who are you?”

  “I’m…” he sighed. “Max was taken because he’s a mechanic. They took me because I’m a chemist.”

  “Oh yeah? What did they want you for?”

  “Fuel. That sort of thing. Look, I can tell you all this on the way. We need to get out of here. I’m sure they’ll be looking for us.”

  Was she making a mistake? What choice did she have? She could escape and go looking for Max in Hadstow, but she had no other way out with this guy at the door. Plus, if what he was saying was true, Max wasn’t even there anymore.

  She frowned. Surely Max would have known she would just open the door to somebody she didn’t know.

  “Where’s Max?”

  “He’s in a safe place.”

  She scoffed. “You’re going to need to give me more information than that.”

  “He’s hiding out. At his house.”

  Her eyes widened. Really? Would Max really do that? She’d been forced to come back here because she didn’t have anywhere else.

  As she thought about it, she heard whispers outside. She stayed where she was, resisting the urge to move closer to the door to hear what they were saying.

  Did they realise they’d made a mistake? Because they had. Max would never be stupid enough to go back to his own house if people were out there looking for him.

  The man laughed. It sounded forced. “He told me you’d be like this.”

  “Oh yeah?” She started to doubt herself then. She could just imagine Max shaking his head and rolling his eyes as he told them they had a mission on their hands if they wanted her to go with them.

  Then it struck her. Max knew her better than that. This guy was right. Max would have tol
d them all about how stubborn she was, but he wasn’t the type to just leave things to chance. He was a problem solver. If this was as urgent as they said it was, Max would have known she wouldn’t believe them and he’d have done something about it. If he couldn’t come for her himself, he’d have sent a note. Or told them something that only he would know.

  She shook her head. She’d come so close to believing them that she felt sick, embarrassed. Clive would have figured it out straight away.

  “Come on, Si. We don’t have much time.”

  Think, Si.

  She had to get away from them for a start. Do they have guns?

  That was the question that went round and round in her head.

  “What’s happened?” she whispered. “I don’t understand. What’s happened to Max?” She closed her eyes and forced herself to think of the worst things she could even imagine. It wasn’t hard after everything she’d seen over the past few weeks. “I need to see him.”

  “That’s why we’re here. We’ll bring you to him.”

  Si wailed. “Oh my god. I can’t believe this. I thought he was safe. That’s what I’ve been telling myself all along.” Cool it, she thought. They’ll get suspicious if I’m too dramatic.

  She crept upstairs, keeping as close to the wall as possible. It wouldn’t be the end of the world if they heard her, but she needed them to think that she was still crouched behind the door, crying her eyes out and not at all suspicious of them. That was the only way to buy more time.

  She smiled when she got upstairs. It had been such a pain in the ass to get the cover off the attic hatch earlier, but it was so worth it now. She frowned. She’d have to move the chair so they didn’t know she was up there.

  She thought of something just as she was preparing to step up on the bannister and pull herself up. She hurried back to her mother’s bedroom. This time, she had no qualms about going inside. This was about survival now.

  Clive

  Max gripped the wheel and took the corner so hard that they were thrown against the side of the car. Clive watched him with growing anxiety. He’d been about to run and get the car when Max came racing out of the warehouse and screamed at them to run. Clive hadn’t thought twice about it. He hadn’t been surprised when the explosion blasted out behind them.

  It made sense for Max to drive. He knew where they were going and they might save valuable seconds without him having to give Clive directions.

  Clive just wished he wouldn’t drive quite like a madman.

  He wasn’t fainthearted. Certainly not. He’d been in the car with work colleagues who’d driven like race car drivers. He’d often had to do so himself in training and on a few occasions when there’d been an emergency. Max was on a whole other level. Clive would have asked if he’d ever driven professionally only he didn’t want to disturb him. Not when they were going at this speed.

  “Easy,” he said, when they came out of another corner they really ought not to have made it through.

  “How can I take it easy? You said they might get her if we’re not fast.” He shook his head. “She’s only a kid. Why did you let her go off on her own?”

  “We didn’t let her. She tricked us. The girl has a mind of her own.” He sighed. “It’s not going to do her any good if you crash.”

  The other man scoffed. “Crash? I’ve been tinkering around with cars ever since I was knee high. I know what I’m doing.” He turned his attention back to the road. “This thing’s a beauty.”

  “I didn’t think you’d appreciate it after what happened.”

  “I know. The last time I was in this car it wasn’t so pleasant, believe me.” His expression hardened. “Hardly the car’s fault.”

  Clive knew better than to push him on the subject. He could imagine it was still raw. He turned and looked out the passenger window. Some day, he hoped, he’d hear Max’s side of the story.

  “Not far now,” Max muttered.

  Clive was relieved to hear it. In the back, Annie’s face had turned almost green.

  Clive stared out the window. He missed driving. Driving had given him something to do besides wait. He couldn’t handle this. It didn’t help that all the streets looked the same. He tried to look out for anything familiar, but there wasn’t anything around here to distinguish the area from countless other places in the country. Grey urban sprawl.

  They took yet another sudden turn and Max slammed on the brakes. “Here. Shit. Look. Window’s broke.”

  He was out of the car before Clive had even taken off his seatbelt.

  “Damn it,” Clive muttered. They hadn’t even discussed what they were going to do. Now they had to go in blind because Max was already racing up the path to the house.

  The front window had been shattered and the tatty net curtain inside fluttered in the breeze.

  “Come on,” Clive said, praying that Max hadn’t just stumbled into an ambush.

  They didn’t hear any gunshots. That was one positive. Of course it meant nothing. Bloody idiot, Clive thought. He couldn’t think too harshly of the man, though. He understood. Max loved that girl and she was in danger. He would have done the same thing if it had been Olivia.

  He glanced up at the upper storey windows as they approached the house. All of them had curtains in them. He couldn’t see a thing.

  “We don’t even know if there’s a back way,” he muttered. “This is a shambles.”

  “It is what it is.”

  He nodded, composing himself. It didn’t matter that Max had gone off half-cocked. Clive was behind him for backup. He’d see this right. He tried to ignore the apprehension that filled him. He’d come so close to being killed in that underpass. That changed a man, even in circumstances as strange as these.

  He hurried into the house, checking all around him. It was small: that was one mercy. He checked downstairs quickly and saw the back door was closed. He didn’t waste time checking the yard. There was no way Max would have closed the door behind him in his present state of mind.

  Clive raced up the stairs, wincing as they creaked under his feet despite him being careful to stick to the sides of the treads. He slowed as he got higher. He could hear voices. Strained voices.

  Clive sped up again. The middle of a flight of stairs wasn’t a good place to be caught. Better to be on the landing on the same level as everyone else.

  He rose off the last step and froze. It took him a moment or two to make sense of what he was seeing.

  Pete

  “Easy,” Pete hissed as his brother started to climb through the window without even pulling back the curtain to see what was ahead of them.

  “What?”

  “You’ve got to check first. See?” he pulled the curtain back and made sure there was nobody waiting there to shoot them in the head.

  “I’m not a burglar.”

  “Jesus,” he snapped, forgetting to keep his voice down. “Now? You’re going to give me stick now?” He turned away. He couldn’t listen to this. Not when Josh’s act hadn’t worked and they’d been forced to break in. “You should’ve put that wit into getting her to open the door.”

  It was all too much. Pete ignored his brother and moved through the room, listening out for any sign of her. They should have done this ten minutes ago when she was asking them questions. But he’d given Josh the benefit of the doubt. That was stupid. She’d played them. They’d let her. They’d stalled.

  Pete’s annoyance turned to confusion when he moved into the kitchen. It was a tiny place, which made it easy to check so that was one thing in his favour. So too was the fact that there was no easy way out the back. She’d have had to climb an eight foot wall to get away. There was no gate. He turned away and headed towards the stairs, checking the cupboard underneath it as he went.

  “What are you doing? Shouldn’t we get—”

  Pete held his hand up, not even bothering to look behind him. He reached in his pocket and pulled out the flick knife he’d been carrying around since he was eleven. />
  “What the hell is that?”

  “Shut up, Josh. Now’s not the time.” He shook his head. Did his brother seriously think he was going to walk into a situation like this with nothing to protect himself? Did Harry?

  “Why couldn’t you use that before? Like when Harry locked us up?”

  Pete shook his head. “You really don’t have a clue, do you?” Even the thought of it was enough to make him laugh. This little knife against whatever Harry could bring to the table? He hadn’t even considered it. Not even on Kenan, who was slow and awkward. They’d need a hell of a lot more than that if they wanted to go up against Harry Harman. Even threatening him would have gotten them killed.

  The house was too quiet. Pete paused at the bottom of the stairs and listened. It was an old house but there wasn’t a sound. No creaking floorboards; no doors closing. He hurried up the stairs, trying to remember what they did on detective shows on telly. What did it matter anyway? Those detectives always had guns. He glanced back at Josh. Guns and partners who knew what they were doing.

  He moved up slowly, listening as he went. Was he doing this right? Should he call out to her? It was too quiet. It was weird. He’d never done anything like this before. He wished the plan had worked. He didn’t know why it hadn’t. As much as he hated to admit it, Josh had done well. He didn’t know what it was that had made her not believe them.

  A plan started to form in his head then. It was a small house. Not as much ground to cover. They’d split up and find her within seconds. She was probably hiding in a wardrobe or under a bed. Easy.

  He got to the top of the stairs and stopped, shaking his head. He’d been an idiot. He’d taken his time because he’d thought there was no way she could get out the back of the house. Well he’d been wrong. The window in the bedroom in front of them was wide open. He hurried in there, groaning to himself. He’d messed up. He’d messed up bad.

  We can still get her, he told himself. He couldn’t make himself believe it though. After all, he didn’t know how much of a head start she’d had. She could be anywhere by now. His heart pounded. What if she’d taken their car? Even if she hadn’t and she was hiding in a neighbour’s house, they’d never find her.