Alex Knightly - Sudden Darkness - A Post-Apocalyptic EMP Thriller

She grabbed the pump and took a few steps back to look at the window. She checked behind her again. It didn’t feel good to be out in the open like this, with her back turned to the street. Scores of people were looting that supermarket just up the road. What if they came this way?

She decided on the best spot and launched herself at the window, recoiling away when it shattered. Even so, she found herself covered in broken glass. Luckily it was safety glass, so it had shattered into little pebbles rather than shards.

She grabbed the bike and hurried through the window, shaking from nerves. She’d never so much as gotten a speeding fine before, much less broken into a shop.

Think . She wished she’d written down the list of things she needed. She couldn’t remember it now—she couldn’t think straight.

She kicked the stand and left the bike in the middle of the shop. Then she sprinted around, grabbing the things she needed. First, a backpack. With no time to try it on for size, she took the one with the most padding in the straps. She grabbed water purification tablets, a collapsible bottle, a few packs of dehydrated meals. She looked around frantically. It wouldn’t be long before people saw the broken window and came in to look for themselves. She ran to the back and grabbed the warmest sleeping bag she could see as well as a handful of metal emergency blankets. She wavered for a moment before grabbing the lightest tent she could see. It would weigh her down and add even more bulk to her pack, but the shelter might save her life.

Her heart leapt when she saw the hunting knives. She hadn’t even expected to find them there. There were no guns, of course, but this was the next best thing.

She took a torch and two head torches. And a personal alarm. She thought of something then and looked around for aerosols. She took two cans of bug spray—she could use them as mace if it came down to it.

She shuddered. What the hell was she about to walk into?

There was a shuffling sound somewhere in the shop and she jumped in fright. Three people were climbing in the window.

Go.

She threw the rest of the things into the backpack and impatiently clawed at the plastic wrap that held in the straps. She threw it on her back and grabbed the bike under one arm.

With her heart in her mouth, she ran for the door, grabbing a fleece as she did. She felt weighed down but she knew she’d be glad of it later. In the end, the three new arrivals barely seemed to notice her. They were too busy running around the shop just like she had done not long ago.

Annie felt more conscious on the ride back to the flat now that she had a flash new bag on her back. Her legs were fatigued, but she fought the stiffness and tried to beat her previous pace.

She passed the supermarket and was shocked to see a crowd waiting outside to get in. She wondered then about the GrocerySavers closer to the flat. Was it still open? Or had it descended into the same craziness as she was seeing now? What was it going to be like in another day?

She scanned the sky for some indication of the sun’s position, before telling herself to stop and just be patient. By the time she got back and put her food in the pack, it would have been bright for two hours or more. That was two hours of cycling lost—she needed as much daylight as possible, especially on the first day, when she’d have to push herself to get as far from London as possible before nightfall.

No, you’re staying tonight, no matter how impatient you get.

What would she even see on the road? Sitting in the flat and listening to the noise was one thing. Being out in the open with it was another. It wasn’t like she’d have the option of checking into a hotel.

I’ll dump this stuff back at the flat and reassess. Maybe there’s something else I need.

There was only one thing she could think of, but that wasn’t an option. Where would she even find a gun? She couldn’t recall ever seeing a gun shop in London. She’d only ever seen them in hunting or antique shops, and they’d been shotguns for hunters or big old muskets for collectors. She wanted a handgun to protect herself if the worst came to the worst and she was massively outnumbered. But where?

Criminals?

She scoffed. It was too risky. Approaching some dodgy-looking bloke and asking to buy a gun would only paint a target on her back and she already had three massive targets as it was: young, female and alone. Not to mention the fact that she didn’t have the first clue about firearms.

She’d just have to be clever about it. She’d cycle as hard as she could during the day and avoid places people normally associated with refuge, like churches or hospitals. She’d have to avoid the army as well as thieves. She’d have to avoid everyone. Two hundred miles whilst trying to stay invisible. It was going to be next to impossible.

But what choice did she have?

She braked to turn into the driveway to her block and her stomach plummeted. A man she didn’t recognise stepped forward to block her path.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

She cursed herself for slowing down and losing momentum. It was obvious he wasn’t going to move.

“Well?”

“To see my friend. Excuse me.” She tried to swerve past him, but she was going so slowly now that he was able to sidestep and block her again with ease.

“That’s not very friendly.”

She stopped and got off the bike as steadily as she could with the giant pack on her back. She was steadier on her feet than on the bike in case he tried anything. Her chest hummed with adrenaline. She looked around subtly. He was alone.

“Yeah, well. I’m not feeling very friendly.”

He grinned and she almost recoiled at the sight of his toothless smile. He seemed sober—at least, his movements weren’t the erratic jerks of an addict. That was something, at least.

She started to walk the bike along the driveway, looking away but remaining alert for any sudden movement behind her.

“I’m talking to you. Give me that bike.”

Sure enough, he lunged for her. She’d been expecting it. She turned as his fingers coiled around her upper arm and roundhouse-kicked him in the balls. No sense in aiming higher and losing her balance when a low, easy blow was just as effective. He crumpled over, wailing.

“Stupid bitch.”

Annie wanted to roll her eyes, but she was too stunned. This was just the start. She hurried up the driveway, fumbling in her pocket for her keys. At least the men who’d been hanging around the green were gone.

She unlocked the door and hefted the bike inside. She unlocked the flat and shuffled in. There was no way she was leaving the bike outside now. She locked the door behind her and collapsed onto the floor.

Her hands were shaking.

You can take care of yourself, she told herself. Stop freaking out. You dealt with him.

But it was cold comfort and she knew it. She was one person. All she had was feet and hands and two stolen knives still in their packaging. That idiot out there wasn’t the problem. What if there had been five of him? Or ten?

Somewhere out there, there were thousands of others who had only ever followed the rules because of the threat of being arrested. That threat was gone now. How long until they realised the true potential for lawlessness?

Annie shook her head as she tried to comprehend the challenge she faced. Cycling two hundred miles wasn’t the problem—she’d done seventy miles in a day before. Other people were the problem.

She shook her head, almost ill with worry. She’d been so busy thinking about how fast she needed to cycle and how much water she’d need, that she hadn’t considered the bigger question.