Dark Survival

by Ryan Casey

  It just went against the human condition to so readily be willing to kill.

  It went against everything that seemed right.

  And yet here they were. All of them still standing.

  All of them still here.

  “Doesn’t look like there’s anyone here,” Harriet said. “Does it?”

  Martin stopped in the middle of the street. He looked at the old Emmaus store on his left. The shutters rusting. The windows upstairs boarded up. A pigeon swooped down up ahead, nibbling at the mouldy scraps around an overflowing waste bin, un-emptied since the day the power went out. Over to the right, by the front of Slaters Menswear, Martin saw a homeless man tucked under a sleeping bag, orange woolly hat pulled right over his head.

  He didn’t have to step a foot closer to him to know he’d died a long time ago.

  “It doesn’t,” Martin said. And he wasn’t sure how to think about that. Relieved in that it meant staying out of any potential lunatic’s way. But also a little alarmed. Because if this town was anything to go by, there was very little left in the way of salvaging. Sure, he could gather the odd scrap, but it wasn’t exactly a goldmine of opportunity.

  “I just get the feeling this can’t be it,” Harriet said. “This can’t be the end of it all. There has to be more than this. This place. It has to rise again. Somehow. Right?”

  Martin looked at the empty cars. He looked at the rats scurrying freely across the road. He looked at the bodies. The glass. The blood.

  “I hope so,” he said, his voice echoing through the silence.

  But he wasn’t sure he believed it himself.

  They walked further down that main road. Martin grabbed whatever he could, but it wasn’t exactly abundant with supplies. He took a small rucksack from Go Outdoors. Grabbed a few other things in there too—a comfier pair of walking boots, a thicker coat. Still felt strange, raiding a place like this. Still felt like stealing. Always looking over his shoulder at every moment.

  Even though he knew they were alone.

  They stayed close as they moved from store to store, trying to salvage whatever they could. Eventually, they reached a Home Bargains store. The smell hit Martin immediately—curdled milk, rotting meat. But there would still be things in here he could use. There had to be.

  He grabbed some scissors and started filling his bug out bag. Some dental floss, too, which always came in handy, not just for dental health. A loose first aid kit, surprisingly untouched. Some soap, some duct tape, and even some binoculars. He kept on going, surprised at just how much was on offer in here, even if it was limited. Even a can of chickpeas sat on the shelf. And some dog biscuits. Which Bruce greatly appreciated.

  He kept on going, hope building once more, when he swore he heard footsteps over to the right.

  He spun around. Harriet was out of sight. So too was Oscar.

  “Harriet?”

  Ella grabbed a few supplies of her own. “She’ll be okay. Don’t worry.”

  But Martin headed to the end of the aisle anyway.

  Because he had a bad feeling.

  A feeling they weren’t alone.

  A feeling they were being watched—

  “Martin?”

  Harriet appeared in front of him. Made him jump. Oscar wheeled around just behind her on a little toy bike, giggling away.

  Martin took a breath. Nodded. “Sorry. Just thought... just thought I heard something out there for a second.”

  Harriet shook her head. “You’re getting paranoid. Look what I got, anyway. This much use?”

  Martin looked at the peanut butter and smiled. “Much use? You’ve pretty much stumbled upon the holy grail of post-apocalyptic snacks.”

  “I mean, I’m not a fan, so...”

  “You’re not a fan of peanut butter? Is something wrong with you?”

  Harriet rolled her eyes. Smiled. “I can just about stomach the smooth stuff. Crunchy, though. Yuck.”

  “Well,” Martin said. “If you’re not gonna find much use for it, I’m sure I’ll be able to look after it for you.”

  He caught Harriet glancing up at him. A twinkle in her eyes. A smile on her face.

  And he felt himself flushing. ’Cause he thought right then that Ella was right.

  Harriet was beautiful.

  She was—

  And then he heard a shout outside.

  He looked up. Harriet spun around.

  “Oscar?” she said.

  She rushed out of the store. Ran onto the road. Disappeared from sight. “Oscar!”

  And the hairs on Martin’s neck stood on end. Because he had a bad feeling. A sense that his instincts were right. That someone was out there.

  “Harriet!”

  He stepped out of the store. Ella and Bruce close behind.

  He looked down the street. Over to the left.

  Caught a glimpse of Harriet disappearing down a street to the left.

  “Shit,” he said. “Harriet!”

  He ran down the road towards her. He should’ve known this place wasn’t empty. That smoke he’d seen from a distance. Someone had been here recently.

  Maybe they’d never actually left.

  He ran as quickly as he could, Ella by his side, Bruce pacing along.

  Reached the end of the alleyway.

  That’s when he saw them.

  The man with the hand around Harriet’s mouth.

  The look of terror in her eyes.

  The man beside her.

  Oscar in his arms.

  Kicking out. Screaming.

  “No, Owen. No!”

  “Harriet!”

  Martin launched himself down that alleyway towards them. Lost all sense of his surroundings. He just had to get to them. Just had to reach them. He couldn’t let them go.

  “Harriet!”

  He reached the end of the alleyway.

  Looked to the left.

  Then to the right.

  But all he saw were dead ends.

  A parking lot on his right. Cars stacked up all around it.

  And then a metal gate on his left.

  No sign of anyone.

  He ran towards that parking lot. Shouted out Harriet’s name. Searched every car. Searched every damned place he could.

  But the more he searched, the more he realised the truth.

  The more he had to face up to reality.

  He put his hands on his knees as he stood on the roof of that parking lot and stared down at the empty, dead town around him.

  Harriet was gone.

  Oscar was gone.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Martin wasn’t sure how long he’d been running when he finally fell to his knees.

  The clouds hid the sun. Specks of icy rain tumbled down from above, teasing an imminent winter. They were outside the town of Garstang now. They’d run through the suburbs. Searched every blade of grass for a trace of Harriet. For a trace of Oscar. For a trace of their kidnappers.

  But it was no use.

  There was no sign of them.

  They were gone.

  Martin stared at the road beneath him. He lifted his head. Looked at those semi-detached homes either side of him. Dusty cars sitting on the drive. Children’s slides on the lawn. An ice-cream van perched up on the kerb, totally stationary.

  Martin could almost hear the laughter. He could almost smell the sweetness. Almost taste the crunch of a 99 flake.

  All these reminders of a world that once was.

  All of it, gone.

  “Dad?”

  Martin glanced up to his right.

  Ella stood by his side. Panting, just like Bruce. Her hair was drenched with sweat. Her cheeks were red and puffy. She held her hands on her legs.

  She didn’t have to say a word. The look on her face told the whole story.

  “I can’t just give up on them.”

  Ella shook her head. “We don’t even know they went this way. They could’ve gone the complete opposite direction.”

  Martin pu
shed himself back to his sore, blistered feet. “We have to try.”

  “And I know that. I don’t want to let Harriet go too. But we need to know more. Because if we’re not careful... we’re gonna do what you warned me about all along. We’re gonna run right into a trap. We’re gonna let our guard drop, and we’re gonna get complacent. And we need to think about ourselves. As hard as that is.”

  Martin shook his head. He didn’t know how he’d reached a point like this. He was always about self-sufficiency. He was always about as few attachments as possible. He’d barely even convinced himself he could look after his own daughter.

  And now he was racing recklessly through these dangerous streets searching for a woman he barely knew.

  But it was wrong.

  It wasn’t fair.

  And he couldn’t just give up on her.

  “We’ve got to keep searching.”

  “We don’t know where she went,” Ella said. “We don’t know who took her. I’m sorry, Dad. Really. I’m sorry. But... but we need to start thinking about ourselves. That’s what you taught me, isn’t it? That’s what’s going to keep us safe.”

  Martin looked into Ella’s eyes, and he knew she was right. These were the things he’d taught her all this time.

  And yet hearing them from the mouth of his daughter—hearing these words of such defeatism, of such selfishness—they didn’t sit right. They sounded so ugly.

  They made his skin crawl.

  They just didn’t seem right.

  Because he realised. He realised why he’d been teaching Ella these things. It was for her sake. To protect her.

  And now somebody else was in the mix, it just didn’t seem right.

  “I just... I owe it to them. Because they won’t survive. Not on their own. And these people. They’ll...”

  Ella stepped up to Martin. She put a hand on his arm. “And if we don’t find ourselves shelter, if we don’t start thinking about surviving, then it’s over for us too.”

  Martin heard those words. He felt them hit him, right in his core.

  He didn’t want to believe them.

  He didn’t want to accept them.

  But he had no choice.

  He stood in the middle of that suburban street.

  Seagulls swooping down above.

  The smell of unemptied litter sour in his nostrils.

  Ella by his side.

  Bruce at his other side.

  He looked up the street, into the distance, and he thought of the horror in Harriet’s beautiful eyes.

  And he knew deep down there was nothing he could do.

  Nothing.

  “I’m sorry, Harriet,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

  And then he turned around, Ella and Bruce by his sides, and he walked.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Martin kept on walking until he reached another town.

  And there was about as much hope in this town as there was in the last.

  The same sights here. That afternoon sun shining down against the grey-bricked buildings. Boarded up shops. Smashed windows. Stationary cars. It was weird. It looked like the whole damned world had vanished already, even though it’d only been a month.

  And sure. He’d seen people on the road. Emaciated people peeking through the curtains of their homes. He’d seen sinister-looking groups hanging around supermarkets. He’d seen all kinds of traces of life.

  But nothing that looked like order.

  Nothing that brought him hope.

  And nothing that helped him forget what’d happened with Harriet and Oscar.

  He kept on replaying that moment as he paced down the road. As he listened to his footsteps echo against the road; listened to Bruce panting by his side. Every time he saw her terrified face in his mind, he felt sick. Sick to his core.

  ’Cause she’d trusted him. She’d put her faith in him.

  And the second they’d run into any kind of trouble, they’d let her go.

  He looked at Ella. Saw her walking alongside him. Slower than usual. Hiding her hand from view. Looking a little pale, too.

  “You okay?”

  She looked around at him. Nodded. Didn’t say a word.

  Martin wasn’t convinced. He knew when there was something up with his daughter. “You know, if you want to talk about what happened on the road. With Ally’s people. You can.”

  She stopped. Looked right at him. “I’m fine.”

  Martin sighed. “You can’t be fine. You killed people. Two people. That’s not something we’re just comfortable and easy with. We don’t switch off from stuff like that. We live with it.”

  She looked away. Lowered her head. Started walking again. “We’ve all got stuff we’re forced to live with.”

  She pushed ahead of him. Kept on walking. And he knew damned well there was something up, now. Just what he needed. Losing Harriet and Oscar. Now Ella playing up.

  “Ella, you’re gonna offload. You’re gonna speak to me. I’m not gonna let you just walk away—”

  “This is what you wanted all along, isn’t it?”

  Martin stopped. He couldn’t say a word. Not at first. “What?”

  She looked back at him with her tear-filled eyes. “You... you wanted it to be just me and you. That’s how you’ve always wanted it.”

  Martin shook his head. “That’s not true—”

  “But it is. You push people away. You resist other groups. Other people. ’Cause as much as you try to convince yourself you’re looking for some kind of safety or some kind of shelter... you aren’t, are you? Because you’re scared. You’re scared of other people. Of letting them in. Of trusting them. And it’s all because of me.”

  Martin looked away. He didn’t want to humour Ella’s words. Even though they hit a nerve. “You’ve got this wrong. Besides. Whatever happened to us seeking out shelter on our own?”

  “Don’t lie to me. Don’t lie to yourself. We’ve seen plenty of people on the road. We’ve seen plenty of groups. But you just can’t bring yourself to go up to them, can you? You just can’t bring yourself to trust them. They’ll never be quite good enough. And you know what, Dad? It’ll kill us. It’ll end up killing us if we don’t reach out to someone. It might not be perfect. Nobody’s gonna be perfect right now. But if we don’t find somewhere... we’re not going to make this.”

  Martin stood there. Heart racing. Cold breeze brushing against him, sending shivers right through his body. “Everything I’ve done, I’m doing it for—”

  “Don’t say you’re doing this for me. Because... because I know that already. And that’s what makes me feel so guilty. Because I’ve seen what you’ve done to people. That group at the caravan site. Even Ally’s group.”

  “Ally’s group tried to rob us.”

  “But that’s not the point. The point is you start conflicts with people. And you’ll keep on starting them. Because to you, that’s better than risking trusting anybody. All you care about is your supplies. Your ideal farm. Your perfect future. But it doesn’t exist. It isn’t reality. You need to wake up. Before it kills us all.”

  She walked on, then. Bruce stood there a few seconds. Tilted his head. Then walked off, in pursuit of Ella.

  And as Martin stood there watching his daughter drift further through this empty town, all he could think about was her words.

  All he could think about was the things she’d said.

  And all he could think about was how true they were.

  You need to wake up. Before it kills us all.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Martin sat at the edge of the town and stared into the distance.

  It was getting dark. He could see something in the distance. Movement. People. Looked like a group. Didn’t know what kind of people they were. Didn’t know how much he could trust them—if he could trust them at all.

  But all he could think about were Ella’s words

  You need to wake up. Before it kills us all.

  He chewed on the protein bar. It w
as a little stale, but he’d found it on the outskirts of the town clenched in the palm of a dead body. He felt bad taking from it. But everyone had to do what they could to survive now, and that included him.

  Ella sat by his side. Bruce between them. They looked out over the hill, down at the town in the distance, almost totally covered in darkness. Back in the day, this place would’ve been lit right up. Now, it was jet black. And who knew what kind of people roamed those streets? Who knew what kind of people walked those hills? Who knew what kind of people were out there at all?

  He tasted that dry protein bar. It clung to the back of its throat, a slight chocolatey flavour filling his mouth. Made him feel a little sick. A little dehydrated. As hungry as he was, he felt no better for eating it at all, the chewy, hard, solid block as unappetising as a chunk of tar.

  But he had to eat. He had to keep himself alive.

  And he had to figure out what he was going to do next.

  “You’re right, you know?’

  Ella looked around at him. Frowned. She’d eaten a little of the protein bar herself but stopped way before he did. A little chocolate in the corners of her mouth. “What?”

  Martin took a few deep breaths. “About how overprotective I’ve been. About how... how resistant I’ve been to trusting other people. But you have to see why it is–”

  “I know exactly how it is. I’m not an idiot. Idiot.”

  Martin frowned. “You do?”

  She half-smiled at him. “You spent so many years feeling like you couldn’t do a thing for me. Like you couldn’t look after me. Like you couldn’t be there for me. You spent the first few days of this blackout trying your best for me, and still not feeling like you were good enough. So then... then you saw things differently. You promised to look after me. You promised to be there for me. You wanted to be the one who was there for me, and nobody else. Because you were afraid. Of losing me again. And I get that. I get it because I feel it too.”

  Martin looked away from Ella’s probing eyes. Stared off into the darkness, once more. She understood. So deeply. It made more sense than he could’ve put it himself. He was afraid of losing her. He’d spent so many years without her, then so long not feeling like he was capable of looking after her... then he’d wanted to be the one who was there for her. He hadn’t wanted anyone else around her. Hadn’t trusted anyone else around her.