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

“Well, you’re not a saint.”

“No, I’m not.” He looked around to see if there was anyone nearby listening. “I sell things for them, alright? And run the money back to Zane. That’s not the same. It’s not like I’m out everyday robbing places.”

Josh rolled his eyes and shook his head. “You think that makes you better? You’re still a criminal.”

“I’m not. It’s… look, if they just made it legal then people would be able to buy it. They’re always going to buy it.”

“I don’t want to get into this debate with you,” Josh hissed. “How could you work for someone like that? He runs brothels and sells drugs. He sells his shit to desperate people and people like you enable him. It’s sick. How do you think Mum feels? Do you think it’s easy for her to look the neighbours in the eye knowing her son’s out there selling that shit?”

“They don’t… I don’t…” He drew back his fist and punched the shutter in frustration. “I don’t sell around our street, okay? And they’re all junkies anyway. It’s not like I was the one who got them hooked.”

“We’re never going to agree on this.”

“Why bring it up then?”

“To show you…” Josh sighed. “Oh look, just find a way in, okay? Stop pretending you’re above it.”

Pete shook his head. He’d always suspected Josh was ashamed of him, but it was surprisingly hurtful to have it confirmed. He closed his eyes. But wasn’t it understandable? After all, he’d just put Josh on Harry’s radar. “There are too many people here. Let’s go around the back.”

He didn’t mention it again until after they’d nailed the first piece of board to their mother’s bedroom window. They nailed it on the inside, not wanting to draw attention to what they were doing. Pete hadn’t mentioned the fact that the two of them pushing packed trolleys full of plywood sheets up the road was probably enough of a giveaway. He’d stayed quiet, not wanting to piss his brother off even more.

“Right, that’s that done,” Josh said, dropping his hammer and shaking out his arm. “Let’s do downstairs next. Then we can do our rooms.”

“Josh, wait,” he called to his brother’s departing back.

“What?”

“You should think about it. Just humour him, you know?”

“What, like yes sir, no sir, three bags full sir? Is that what you want me to do? Bend the knee to Harry?”

“No! For fuck’s sake. Just tell him what you told me and that’s the end of it.”

Josh shook his head and continued on down the stairs. “No. I’m not doing it.”

“What are you boys arguing about?” their mother shouted from the bottom of the stairs. “Can you not just get along with each other like brothers are supposed to?”

“Nothing, Mum,” Josh said, shooting Pete a filthy look. “Just debating how many nails we should be using per board, that’s all.”

“Really? Because it sounded like—”

“It’s nothing, really,” Pete said, hurrying down the stairs after Josh. “Just a disagreement. Josh was being a bit stingy with the nails and I was trying to warn him, that’s all. His way isn’t safe.”

Josh spun around and the next thing Pete knew he was being held against the wall by his throat. He coughed and gasped for air, flailing at his brother. Josh stayed out of reach. Only when Pete managed to kick him in the knee did he loosen his grip.

“Boys!” their mother cried, rushing at them. “Stop it! Stop it, Josh! He’s your brother!”

When she collapsed down onto the bottom step, Josh let go and turned away. “I’m sorry, Mum. He was—”

“He’s your little brother, Josh,” she hissed in a strangled voice. “Why do the two of you have to hate each other? There’s enough people who’ll do that.”

“I know,” Pete said, clutching at his neck. For a second there, he’d been worried. Josh's eyes had been so full of hate he’d wondered if he’d ever let go. “I know.” He fell silent when his brother turned and caught his eye. It wasn’t fair to drag her into this.

“Come on. Let’s get the front windows done.”

“I’ll go get the tools.”

Pete rolled his shoulders. They were aching from holding up the sheet of plywood. Josh was so particular about everything. Pete had wanted to just hammer the nails in as quickly as possible and get it done, but Josh was taking the time to line them up and make sure they were evenly spaced.

Any other time he would have called him out on it and taken over, but he didn’t now. Josh would never listen to him if he started throwing his weight around.

He sighed. He couldn’t help himself. This was taking so long. “Listen, what if you just…”

Josh spun around so suddenly that Pete didn’t have a chance to change his grip on the plywood sheet, which was only attached to the window frame by one nail. It came off with a horrible creaking sound.

“Where do you get off?!” Josh raged.

“I’m just trying—”

“No! Stop! I told you my answer. Do you really think you’re going to change my mind? You can’t, you know. So just stop.”

They got back to work in sullen silence. It was trickier to reattach the board where the nails had torn through it.

“My arms are killing me,” Pete muttered after they’d spend several more minutes in silence and he couldn’t stand it anymore. “Swap?”

Josh stood aside, holding the board with one hand and extending the hammer with the other. “Nails are on the chair there.”

“I know.”

They carried on. Pete got into a routine of hammering and reaching for the next nail. There was something calming about it. After a few minutes, he noticed a change in atmosphere. He looked over and found Josh staring at him.

“What?”

“You’re not lining them up straight.”

“Yeah they’re straight.”

“No, they’re not. It’s better if they’re evenly spaced.”

Pete took a step back and looked at his work. He couldn’t see the problem. “Does it matter? At least we’re getting through them.”

“Of course it does.”

“Really?” He shook his head. Josh had time to debate something stupid like this, but he wouldn’t listen to Pete when he tried to warn him about Harry? It was crazy. “If we hammer enough nails in, it’s not going to matter. We’re not inventing electricity, we’re boarding up a window.”

“That’s not the point and you know it.” Josh knocked on the board. “Anyway, electricity was discovered, not invented. Everyone knows that.”

“Jesus Christ, do you have to be such a know-all? We don’t have electricity anymore. Who cares if it was invented or discovered?”

“I do! And you should! There’s more to life than dealing drugs and pretending to be a hard man.”

Pete threw the hammer on the worn pink carpet and turned to his brother, fuming. “Can you just stop judging me? I don’t judge you for wearing those stupid suits and pretending you’re a posh git from London, do I?”

“You could’ve fooled me. I see the way you look at me. I know underneath you’re just jealous but it still grates a little—”

“Jealous? Jealous of you? Are you out of your mind?”

Someone knocked on the front door, but Pete was barely aware of it. He was locked in the fight that had been brewing between him and his brother for the past five years. Maybe even longer.

“Why wouldn’t you be? I have a future and you have nothing.”

“A future? You spend all day sitting in front of a computer. You think that’s so great?”