by Ryan Casey
He stood up. Walked over to the tent. Leaned inside.
“Wake up,” he said.
Alison barely turned. Kumal looked up. “What—”
“Wake up, the pair of you.”
Kumal nudged Alison then, who mumbled before rolling over. She squinted out at Mike. “What’s happening?”
Mike took a deep breath. For the first time in a long time, the answer felt clear. And that was all thanks to what Gina had said. All thanks to what Gina had made him realise.
“We’re going to set off,” he said. “We’re going to make our way to this safe zone. And we’re going to find Holly, once and for all.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
Hayden Peters looked up at the descending helicopter and for the first time in days, he felt a smile crack across his face.
It was early morning. The sun had barely risen. The birds were singing louder than usual. Or perhaps that was just Hayden’s altered perspective. After all, today was going to be special no matter what the weather was like. Today was going to be precious, no matter what.
Because today was the day this nightmare ended.
He listened to the rotors spinning around. It was music to his ears. Never used to be. A police helicopter often went over his house at night, kept him wide awake. It wasn’t that it was noisy, per se. It was just he was an incredibly sensitive sleeper. Anything out of his ordinary comfort zone and that was it, awake all night.
It went without saying that he hadn’t slept a wink since the start of the blackout—and he was paying for it.
He watched the helicopter get closer and closer to landing. He could smell the fumes from the engine. The smell of any vehicle was a smell he used to despise; being stuck in traffic on the motorway, waiting for the standstill to edge forward. But right now it was magical. It was a smell he was going to savour for the rest of his life.
He didn’t realise just how much he’d miss power until the day it was taken away.
His heart pounded in his chest. He could feel himself shaking. Partly the exhaustion, sure, but also the adrenaline, too. He’d seen the worst in humanity in these last few days. He’d seen people do things he didn’t think they were capable of doing. Hell, he’d done things himself that he didn’t even think he had in him.
But he was here.
That was the main thing. He’d made it this far.
And he was going to make it even further.
He’d heard about the safe zone a few miles out. Overheard a conversation between a few people. Something about a military extraction, he thought he heard. A peacekeeper presence. He wondered where people were being extracted to. His theory? There was some main base towards the south of the country. A place where enough military had gathered, turning a town into a walled fortress, protected from the outside.
It would take time for society to rebuild from this. There were going to be far more dead than those who made it. That was just a part of this world.
But society would rebuild.
Britain would rebuild.
It would bounce back, and things would be better again.
Not normal again. Not back to the way things were.
Just better.
He looked to his left. Looked at the small group of people who were also gathered here. A couple of them military peacekeepers. That said, it was hardly a safe zone. More… well, a bundle of people lucky enough to have heard the good news about this place.
He looked to his right and he smiled.
Iona was standing there, smiling back at him. They’d been through so much, his wife and he. Way before the blackout, even. It all started two years ago, when Iona started feeling unwell at work. She went in for tests, and it turned out she had breast cancer.
It was a long road to recovery. It took time. There were days when Hayden never thought she’d be better again. For a while, they clung to the idea that one day, things would be back to the way they were. That their normal lives would resume.
But as Iona battled away—with the eventual removal of her left breast—it became clear that things were never going to be the same.
But they settled for something else.
“Things are going to be better,” Hayden said, echoing what he’d said to her after the breast removal. “Things are going to start getting better again.”
She smiled back at him. “You always said they would, Irma.”
Hayden smiled when she said “Irma”. It was her pet name for him. He called her Albert in turn. She usually called him Irma because she said he acted like an old woman half the time, so he’d started calling her Albert back—even though she was way more full of life than he was. Just one of those things; just something that stuck.
He reached for her hand, then. Squeezed it. The sound of the propellers getting closer was making it hard to hear anything else. The wind blew from the helicopter. It was so close now.
“What if…” Iona started.
She carried on speaking. But Hayden didn’t hear anything else. The helicopter was just too loud.
He took a few steps back, his hand in hers. Looked up at the helicopter. Saw some people inside. Military looking, definitely. They didn’t look like they’d seen him and Iona yet. But they’d be here soon. They’d be on the ground soon. All this would be ending… soon.
“What did you say?” Hayden asked.
Iona paused for a while. Then she leaned in towards Hayden, squeezing his hand tighter. “It’s just… what if they aren’t the people we want them to be? I mean, there’s hardly anyone here.”
Hayden pondered Iona’s words. They’d overheard the conversation about the safe zone. There were other people gathered here too, so surely they’d heard the same good news as well.
But Iona was right. What if there was something… not quite right about all this?
He gripped her hand tighter, to reassure her above anything. “There are others here. Police. People we can trust. And I’m sure they’ve been picking people up along the way. I mean, we heard we had to head seven miles north. They’re probably just stopping at different points along the way. The cities, the towns, they’ll be more full than the countryside, after all. We just have to have faith.”
But Iona didn’t seem convinced. The closer the helicopter got to landing, the less convinced she seemed.
“Don’t worry,” Hayden said. “Really. We’re going to be okay.”
But as the helicopter landed, Hayden couldn’t deny the newfound uncertainty that had grown in the pit of his stomach.
What if?
Chapter Thirty-Five
Holly stepped out of the woods and had no idea where she was.
The sky was getting lighter, which was both a relief and a curse. Relief because it meant that the terrors of the dark were gone… but a curse because with light came less camouflage, less disguise.
She wanted to keep a low profile. She wanted to lie low for as long as she could. Especially now she was in uncharted territory.
There was a warmth to the air; a sign that it was going to be another nice day. There was that smell to the air that was only ever present on warm days, the kind which you usually get when you step off a plane in a foreign country. It reminded Holly of when she’d first visited France. How boiling it felt when she walked off the plane; how much she was convinced it was going to be too warm for her.
But Dad had introduced her to the swimming pool, the place she never stepped out of for the rest of the two weeks.
She smiled at the memory. Found herself welling up a little. Sometimes, she felt like she filtered out the good memories of her past with dad, mostly because it was easier to do what she was doing that way.
But she did have good times with him. She loved him, and he loved her.
She hoped, deep down, she’d see him again.
She was just so worried about being with him in this world for any longer, because she didn’t want to lose him.
She didn’t want him to fall, like everyone else fell.
>
Her mouth was dry. She went to take a sip of water, but she had to be cautious; she had to make it last. There were ways in which she knew she could gather water, of course. Methods Dad had taught her to create filters; as well as a few traps she knew how to set, to varying degrees of success.
But ideally, she didn’t want to think too much about wilderness survival or anything like that. As much as she was sure she knew a few methods that would keep her alive… she just wanted out of this world.
That’s what she’d come on this journey alone to do.
Only she was lost.
The road in front of her cut right through the trees. She didn’t know whether to take a left or right turn. She knew she was supposed to be heading east after Garstang—but how did she even know which direction east was anymore?
She looked in her rucksack for a compass. Something that would show her which way she was supposed to be going.
When she didn’t find one, she cursed her prepping abilities. She should’ve known all the essentials that went into a bug out bag. But she’d stormed off in a hurry, without truly making sure she had everything.
It was a rash decision. But it was a decision she’d made. She had to own it, well and truly.
And then it struck her. A smile stretched across her face, the panic subsiding. “The sun rises from the east,” she said, laughing. “Idiot. No chance of surviving if I can’t even tell my east from my west at sunrise.”
She was about to turn around when she saw something.
Or rather, someone.
There was a little girl sitting by a tree at the side of the road. Her hair was greasy. She looked deathly pale.
She was staring at Holly with total fear in her eyes.
A part of Holly wanted to walk away. It wanted to keep going because she didn’t want to get bogged down in any emotional situations, things like that.
But the other part knew she had to help this girl.
She couldn’t leave her here alone.
“Hey,” Holly said.
The girl’s eyes widened, then. She was clinging on to a filthy teddy. She looked traumatised.
She walked towards the girl, much slower now. She knew she had to approach her in as friendly and unthreatening a way as possible. “I’m Holly,” she said. “What’s your name?”
The girl looked at her, holding her teddy closer.
“No name? That’s okay. I can speak to people with no name. I’m a good guesser, though. Let me see. Is your name… Claire?”
The little girl shook her head.
“Not Claire? Damn. My psychic abilities mustn’t be working. Let me see… is it… Ava?”
“No,” the girl said.
Speech. That was progress.
Holly rubbed the sides of her temples. “Okay, okay. One final try. It is…”
“Becky,” the girl said.
“Becky? Well it’s lovely to meet you.”
She held out a hand to shake. Becky just looked at it, still uncertain.
Holly lowered her hand. “So, Becky. Any reason you’re out here all on your own?”
Becky mumbled something Holly couldn’t hear clearly.
“Say that again?”
“Mummy said… she said wait here. She’s coming back.”
Holly’s stomach sank a little. “How long ago has your mummy been gone?”
Becky looked around, like she was trying to add up how much time had passed. “The dark’s come three times,” she said.
Holly felt truly bad for this girl, then. She’d been out here for three days at least, no food, no water. She could see a little pile of leaves, flies buzzing around it. She knew what Becky had done there.
“Here,” Holly said, walking towards Becky, water in hand. “Have this.”
Becky’s eyes widened nervously. “But Mummy said—”
“Your mum sounds like a very clever woman. But see. It’s fine. Look.” She took a sip to reassure Becky, made a point of swallowing it loudly. And just for a joke, she convoluted from side to side a few seconds before stopping. “Just kidding. It’s absolutely fine, Becky.”
Becky smirked a bit at Holly’s performance. Then she took the water, gulped down so much it pooled out the sides of her mouth.
“Whoa,” Holly said. “Take it slower, okay? Don’t want to make yourself sick.”
Holly gave Becky one of the protein bars from her pack, which she devoured in seconds. She watched as she ate, and she felt so sorry for this girl; for whatever life she’d been living up to now. And she knew she had to be frank with her.
“Becky, I’m going somewhere. And I think it’s somewhere your mum would want you to go, too.”
Becky stepped away a little, nervous look on her face. “Mum wanted me to stay here.”
“I… I know your mum wanted you to stay safe. But where I’m going. Towards the sun. That’s the safest place. That’s where Mum would want you to go.”
Becky looked over her shoulder, back at the woods, nervously.
“So what do you say?” Holly said. “Are you and me going to do this?”
Becky moved her feet around the ground. “Can I have another biscuit?”
“They’re… they’re not biscuits.” Holly felt guilty about dipping into supplies, especially when they were so precarious. But the poor girl was going to starve. “Sure. Here.”
She handed Becky another of the protein bars, which she swallowed down, burping when she’d finished.
“Better?” Holly asked.
Becky nodded, a little smile on her face now. “Better.”
Holly put a hand on Becky’s shoulder. “Becky… I know it’s scary. I know it’s not easy. But I promise you can trust me. Where we’re going… things will be okay again.”
“Will my mummy be there?”
Holly wasn’t sure how to answer. Whether to be honest, or whether to sugar-coat it. She thought about what she’d want to hear as a kid—how she’d want her predicament delivering—and she decided on a happy medium between the two. “She might be,” Holly said. “But the truth is… I don’t know. I just know it will be better there. Better than here. Better than pooing in the grass and wiping your bum on leaves. Anything’s better than that, right?”
Becky smiled again, and laughed a little this time. And right now, Holly felt like she had a breakthrough. She felt like she had Becky on side.
She held out a hand. “Come on then. See the sun over there? That’s where we’re heading. How about you lead the way?”
Becky looked at the sun, which led down the road to the right. Then she looked back up at Holly, frown across her face. “You can’t walk to the sun. That’s in space, silly.”
Holly smiled. “You’ve got a lot to learn, kiddo.”
She took Becky’s hand. Held it, tight.
Then she took a deep breath and looked at the road ahead.
It was time to make the final journey.
It was time to make the final push.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Mike led the group into the woods and kept his sights set firmly ahead.
But he couldn’t shake the feeling he wasn’t going to find Holly at all.
The sun was up. He kept his attention all around—kept an eye out for someone or something, just any sign of life. He didn’t want to risk contact with anyone at this stage. He didn’t want anything to hold him back, to stop him reaching his goal.
He just wanted to carry on down this route, to get to the safe zone, and to get to Holly.
His feet crunched through the leaves. He remained constantly aware of every rustle, even the slightest noise. Even his sense of smell seemed heightened. Any whiff of smoke from a cigarette, any smidgen of body odour, and he’d be onto it. He’d pick it out, no question.
He was focused on what he had to do.
“You know what I’m looking forward to?” Alison asked.
“More people to chat to?” Gina said, sarcastically.
Alison ignored her. “I’m lookin
g forward to sitting down and tucking into a nice, hot meal.”
“Hey,” Kumal said. “Freshly cooked rabbit not good enough for you?”
“You want to know a secret about rabbit?” Mike said. “You can’t survive off it alone. The meat’s too lean. Need to make sure you incorporate other foods into your diet.”
“Well is that so?” Alison said. “There’s your answer, Kumal. I’m good for rabbit, thanks.”
Mike couldn’t deny there was more optimism to the group now. Even Gina was speaking, and seemed to have come out of her depressive stupor. It wasn’t going to be easy, of course. She’d witnessed so much loss around her. But then so had everyone.
They all just had their own ways of dealing with things.
Mike’s was to push on. To stay focused on the task at hand.
“You know, I think I could survive in this world,” Alison said, as they continued their journey.
“Oh yeah?” Gina said. “Why don’t you tell us all about it?” The sarcasm was cutting. But at least it was better than the silence. She was coming out of her shell. That had to count for something, especially after everything she’d been through.
“Okay,” Alison said, disregarding Gina’s tone. “I think I could live out here in the woods. I think I could forage for berries, things like that. Hunt squirrels, just to make up for the old rabbit deficiency. I think I’d do alright.”
“Of course, you’ve got to know which berries you’re foraging,” Mike said.
“What?”
“Well, you can’t just go picking any berry or plant. You’ll end up killing yourself in no time.”
“So go on, know it all. Tell us all about the different types of berries we should be picking.”
Mike obliged. Mostly because it kept his mind off everything else. He told them about summer’s best foods to forage, like bilberries and chickweed. Not to mention wild strawberries that grew in deciduous woods and along hedgerows. But as he spoke, he realised something. He was in a privileged position of knowing what he knew. What had been nothing more than a hobby to keep himself busy back in the old world—researching prepping, wilderness survival, that kind of thing—had spanned into something else entirely. Something of actual use.