The Last Fight: A Post Apocalyptic EMP Thriller (Surviving the EMP Book 3)

by Ryan Casey

  “Wayne,” he said. “Where’s Wayne?”

  “Yeah,” Yuri said, eyes widening. “About that.”

  “He went after Bella.”

  Jack looked around.

  It was Candice who spoke.

  “Candice?”

  “He went after Bella,” she said.

  Jack frowned. “What?”

  “After the gunfire stopped. He rushed into the woods. He said he couldn’t leave Bella behind.”

  Jack’s stomach sank. The idea of leaving Bella behind didn’t sit right with him either. But the thought that his son had rushed into dangerous territory sat even less comfortably. “How long ago?”

  Candice shook her head. “I don’t know. A minute. Two minutes. It’s hard to tell, with…”

  A gunshot.

  Out of nowhere, a gunshot.

  Candice stopped speaking.

  Jack looked around.

  Bella was running towards them.

  He stumbled in her direction. She didn’t look shot or wounded, at least not from here.

  But there was something about the look on her face that worried Jack.

  Something about the way she was running towards him that filled him with fear.

  “Bella?” he said. “Where’s—”

  “Logan,” she said.

  “What?”

  “Logan,” Bella said, pointing off into the woods. “He’s… he’s alive. He’s in there. He’s alive.”

  Jack froze. He shook his head. “He can’t be.”

  Yuri shrugged. “We hit him. If he got in there and past us… well, I dunno how the hell he did it.”

  “Well he is in there and he did get past you,” Bella said, impatience in her voice. “And Wayne… Wayne…”

  “Wayne? Where is he?”

  “He found me. He told me to run. He—”

  “Is he okay?”

  Bella looked at him with those big, wide eyes and she shook her head. “I don’t know.”

  The hairs on Jack’s arms raised. He walked past Bella, towards the trees.

  “You can’t go in there,” Bella said.

  “If my son’s in there, I can.”

  “But—”

  “I’m not leaving my son in there. I’m not leaving him behind.”

  He grabbed a rifle from one of Yuri’s men. They were reluctant to hand it over at first.

  Then Yuri nodded. Let him take it.

  Jack took it from him. “We’ll deal with our agreement later.”

  “We’d better,” Yuri said. There was bitterness in his words now. Business was business, once again.

  Jack barely acknowledged him. He turned and he walked.

  He could hear people following him. He looked over his shoulder, saw Hazel, Candice and Bella all trying to keep up, the animals running alongside them.

  He didn’t want them here. He didn’t want to put them in danger.

  He just wanted to find his son.

  He stepped into the trees. No sign of Emma, of Logan, of anyone.

  No sounds.

  Nothing.

  He kept on walking through the trees, deeper into the woods.

  “Jack?” Hazel said.

  Jack didn’t even look at her. “We have to keep going.”

  “He’ll be okay. Right? He’ll… he’ll be okay, won’t he?”

  Jack looked at Hazel. He wanted to tell her he would be fine.

  But he couldn’t be sure himself.

  “I hope so,” he said. “I…”

  That’s when he heard it.

  A shuffling to his right.

  He turned. Looked towards the source of that shuffling.

  Movement in the grass.

  His body froze. His heart raced. He didn’t want to go over to that movement in the grass. He dreaded what he might find.

  But he knew he had to.

  He walked slowly towards that movement. It could just be an animal. Hell, it could be Logan.

  It wasn’t automatically Wayne.

  It wasn’t automatically his son.

  He stopped right by the movement. He heard the breathing. Heard the pained winces.

  He looked around at Hazel, Candice, Bella, all of them standing there, all of them waiting to find out the truth themselves.

  And then he looked back at the movement in the grass and he took a step forward.

  When he saw him lying there, his entire world fell apart around him.

  Wayne was lying in the grass.

  Blood was trickling from his lips.

  His eyes were staring up in fear.

  He was holding on to his chest.

  Blood pooled out of a gunshot wound.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Jack stood over his son as he lay there in the grass, holding on to his gun shot chest.

  Everything happened in a blur. Hazel rushing over to him, collapsing by his side. Candice walking sheepishly over to him, holding his hand. And Bella standing there, wide-eyed, traumatised.

  All Jack could do was stand there and watch.

  “Do something,” Hazel wailed. “Jack! Do something! It’s our son. It’s our boy. Please.”

  He looked down at Wayne. There was nothing dignified about any of this. The paleness to his cheeks. The specks of blood and vomit dripping down his chin. The patch on his trousers where he’d pissed himself.

  The pitiful attempts to cling on to life.

  It was pure horror.

  And Jack felt totally numb.

  “Don’t go, Wayne,” Hazel said. “We’re here. Your mum’s here. Your dad’s here. All of us are here.”

  But Wayne didn’t respond. He just lay there, spluttering, eyes bloodshot. He kept moving his hand over his chest, pushing it down, as if it might keep some of the blood inside him.

  But every effort was futile.

  “You can do something. Someone can do something. Right?”

  Jack heard Hazel’s desperation and it crippled him. It took him back to when they’d lost India. The cries she’d made. The screams in the night when she woke up.

  The defining moment of his life, tearing them both in two.

  It was happening again.

  He walked over to Wayne’s side and crouched beside him.

  Wayne looked up at him. But his eyes were shaky, unfocused. It was like he wasn’t really seeing him, in a way.

  “Can you hear me, Wayne?”

  Wayne’s eyes darted around. He spluttered up more blood.

  “Wayne,” Jack said, taking his son’s limp, shaky hand. “Can you hear me?”

  For a moment, Jack thought he was going to look away again.

  But then something happened.

  Wayne locked eyes with Jack.

  His breathing eased.

  “You…” Wayne said. “You…”

  “Ssh,” Jack said, his voice shaking, tears filling his eyes. “We need to get you looked at. We need to get you seen to—”

  “Will he be okay?” Hazel asked.

  “I’m going to have to ask you all to stand aside.”

  “Jack,” she said, grabbing his shoulders. “Our boy? Will he be okay?”

  Jack looked at her and as much as he wanted to lie, he couldn’t.

  “I’ll do whatever I can for him,” he said.

  He looked back down as Bella pulled Hazel away. The urgency of this situation kicked in. The gunshot wound. It was right near his heart.

  If he could get the bullet out… no. That wasn’t an option. It was too dangerous.

  He could stitch Wayne up. That’s what he had to try.

  But he looked at the volume of blood leaking out of his son—the amount that had already spurted from his body—and he knew it was too late to do anything there, too.

  He looked away. Cried. He cried about the time he’d turned his back on Wayne. He cried about the time he’d found him again.

  And he cried because he knew there was no changing what had happened.

  What was going to happen.

  He
took Wayne’s cold hand again. He couldn’t look him in his eyes.

  “I don’t expect you to forgive me,” Jack said. “I don’t expect you to ever forgive me for what I did. But you’re my boy, Wayne. You’re my son. And I’m so proud of you. I’m so, so proud of you.”

  Hazel looked on, the shock and desperation building in her eyes. “Jack?”

  “I made a lot of mistakes,” Jack said. “I missed you at high school. I missed you at college. I missed you learning to drive. Passing your exams. Moving to university. I missed it all. And I regret that. I’ll always regret that. But I’m so proud of you, son. I’m so proud of you for the life you’ve lived. And… and I’m so proud of you for never giving up on those you care about. You’re—you’re a testament to your mum. You’re a testament to everyone. And I love you.”

  Jack sat there and cried. Hazel wailed. Candice was crying too. Bella was standing there, watching, hands covering her face.

  He felt Wayne’s limp hand in his. Felt his breathing getting lighter. His muscles twitching less, his struggling easing.

  “I’ll miss you, lad,” Jack said. “I’ll…”

  Then, he felt something.

  Wayne tightened his grip on Jack’s hand.

  Jack turned and looked at him.

  Wayne was looking into his eyes once more.

  He didn’t look sad anymore. He didn’t look like he was struggling.

  He looked… at peace.

  “I forgive you,” Wayne said. “I… I forgive you. Dad.”

  Dad.

  Jack felt the word like a hammer blow to the chest.

  He squeezed his son’s cold hand. Shook his head. “No. No—”

  “I love you, Dad. I love you. Look after Mum. Look after Candice. After Bella. Look after—”

  “No!” Jack shouted.

  He wasn’t alone at Wayne’s side anymore. Hazel was there, too. She was saying things to Wayne. Telling him to hold on. Squeezing his other hand, crying into his chest.

  But all this time, Wayne looked up at his dad, a glimpse of happiness on his face.

  “I love you,” he said.

  His hand tightened, once more.

  And then it went still.

  Jack tightened his grip. “Wayne?”

  “What’s happened?” Hazel asked.

  Jack searched Wayne’s body. He checked for a pulse. Nothing. Checked for breathing. Nothing.

  He went to push his hands down on his son’s chest, but nothing happened. It didn’t change a thing.

  He went to try again, to bring him back, and then he sat back.

  A void in his life. An emptiness.

  The realisation of what had happened still not quite settling in.

  He turned around, vacant, adrift, and he looked at the rest of the people standing there.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, barely able to say the words. “He’s… he’s gone. Wayne’s gone.”

  He tried to hold himself together as Hazel let out that animalistic wail.

  He tried to keep his composure.

  But then it broke.

  It cracked.

  He covered his face and he fell to the ground.

  His boy was gone.

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Jack stared into the hole in the ground as rain poured down all around him.

  It was torrential. The worst weather he’d seen in weeks, possibly the worst since the power went out. It was late afternoon now. The day had been long, and had dragged on forever. Jack wanted nothing more than this day to end. He needed to escape. They all needed to escape.

  But there was still one final, awful thing that had to be done.

  And that involved the hole in the ground.

  They were just outside the woods at the top of the hill. It was a nice spot, a place Jack sometimes visited when he needed a quiet moment; a place that overlooked the farm, the woods, everywhere.

  He used to think if anything happened to him, he’d like to be buried here.

  He never for one moment envisaged this was the place he’d be burying his son.

  Every few seconds, he felt knotting in his stomach as the memory stormed to the forefront of his consciousness. Searching the woods. Hearing that rustling.

  Then finding Wayne lying there, gunshot wound in his chest.

  He remembered the way he’d tried to help his son. The way shock took over as he did all he could in the moment.

  But the memory that stuck in his mind more than any?

  The way his son had held his hand.

  The way he’d looked into his eyes and said the words that broke him.

  “I forgive you.”

  And the way he’d called him “Dad.”

  He looked away from the hole in the ground as the memory replayed once more. Because it wasn’t just a hole in the ground. It was his son’s grave.

  His son had finally found it in his heart to forgive him for all his sins—sins he was sure he didn’t even deserve to be forgiven for.

  And then he’d died.

  There was no melodrama. There were no fireworks.

  The light of life switching off, just like that.

  Candice and Bella were by Jack’s side. They stared blankly down into the grave too, tears rolling down their faces. Villain perched by the side of the grave.

  Mrs Fuzzles was back with Hazel.

  By Wayne’s body’s side.

  Jack swallowed a lump in his throat. He felt so bad for Hazel. This wasn’t easy for him—it wasn’t ever going to be easy—but Hazel had raised Wayne. She’d seen him grow, seen him develop into a university student. She was proud of him, and she’d always been there for him.

  And now he was gone.

  He tightened his fists. Walked slowly over towards Wayne’s body’s side.

  He stopped when he reached him.

  He lay there peacefully. His eyes were closed. His skin was pale, but it looked like he was just sleeping.

  That’s what he had to tell himself. His son was just sleeping. He was at peace now. There were no worries for him anymore. He’d died protecting Bella; died fighting for those he loved.

  That’s what he had to keep on telling himself.

  “Hazel?” he said.

  Hazel didn’t respond, not right away. A couple of seconds later though, she turned from her son, looked right around at Jack. Her eyes were distant. Detached. She looked intoxicated. In a way, she was. They all were.

  He shivered when she looked at him. Because it reminded him of the way she’d looked at him when India died.

  “It’s time,” Jack said.

  Hazel shook her head. “Just a few more minutes with him.”

  Jack wanted to give her that. But in the end it was him who had to bury Wayne. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep going like this.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “It has to be now.”

  Hazel opened her mouth. For a moment, she looked like she was about to argue.

  Then she closed it. Shut her eyes.

  Nodded.

  He walked over to Wayne’s body. Crouched down, lifted him.

  Mrs Fuzzles growled.

  Jack lifted Wayne regardless. He could tell from the look in Mrs Fuzzles’ eyes that she was grieving, too. She wasn’t stupid. She knew what was happening.

  He stood, holding the weight of his son in his arms. He tried to tell himself this wasn’t his boy. It was just something heavy. Some weights. Anything but the reality of what he was having to do.

  He walked as quickly as he could over to the hole in the ground.

  Candice and Bella were either side of the grave now. They were holding two sides of a rope that Jack had put together to lower Wayne down into his grave with.

  He tried to ignore it, pushing onwards before stopping when he reached the side of the grave.

  The grave stared up at him. This gaping, damp hole. Worms slithering around in the earth. Ants waiting for their next meal.

  And for a moment, he wanted to stand here an
d hold his son forever. Because as devastating as it was to accept… it was the closest he’d been to Wayne ever since he left him.

  It had taken death to bring them back together.

  That was the cruellest, most bitter irony of all.

  He crouched down, lowered Wayne onto the ropes.

  Then he took the side with Bella.

  He nodded.

  Together, they lowered him down.

  When he reached the bottom, Jack felt emptiness inside. His son. His first child. His world.

  Gone.

  He stepped back and searched hurriedly for a shovel.

  “Jack?”

  He stopped.

  It was Candice.

  She looked at him with tearful eyes. “We can do this,” she said. “If it’s too—”

  “No,” Jack said. “I have to do this. It has to be me.”

  “But—”

  “It has to be me,” he said.

  Candice backed down. She stepped out of the way, and Jack lifted his spade, headed back to the grave.

  And then he stood beside it and stared down at his son.

  He wanted him to open his eyes.

  He prayed for some kind of miracle.

  But he knew damn well it was in vain.

  Rain lashed down heavily from above. It blasted against the leaves of the trees, the sound deafening.

  He stared down at his son’s body as the soil turned to mud.

  “I’m sorry for everything,” he said.

  He dug his shovel into the ground.

  He lifted the dirt. Villain by his side. Mrs Fuzzles staring down.

  And he stood there holding that shovel shakily in his hand.

  A tear fell down his face.

  “I’m sorry,” he said.

  Then he dropped the dirt onto his son’s body.

  He wasn’t sure how long it took him to bury his son, but it was still raining when he finished.

  He turned around. Walked over to Hazel, Candice, and Bella.

  When he reached them, emotionally drained, he just wanted to hold Hazel. He just wanted to tell her how sorry he was.

  But when he got to her, she looked at him differently than she had before.

  “Hazel, I—”

  “I’m leaving, Jack.”

  Jack frowned. He felt spaced out. “What?”

  “The farm,” she said. “I can’t go back there. Not after what happened.”

  Jack shook his head. “It’s the only place.”