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

Si was at her wit’s end. The power was still out and there was nothing left to do in the garage. They’d changed the oil in every single car in the workshop. They’d topped up the windscreen fluid. That was about all they could do. The engines wouldn’t start and even the key fobs weren’t working. They would have started washing the cars if the water wasn’t out too.

“Come on,” Max said, clapping his hands. “I haven’t taken a proper inventory of that scrapyard in years. What happens if some businessman pulls off the motorway and needs a spare part for his BMW?”

She rolled her eyes. “He’d go to the BMW dealership like everyone else. Nothing out there is less than ten years old.”

Max turned and looked at her.

“What?”

She almost felt better when he was angry with her. Anything was better than the feeling that she was ripping him off by sticking around. Graham had been in an even worse mood than usual without the distractions of the telly or the pub and she dreaded the thought of going back to that cold terraced house and being stuck with him.

He shook his head. “You’ve got to rein in that attitude, Simone. Someday I’m going to want to retire. I need to know I’m leaving the business in good hands.”

She tried to swallow but his words had caught her so off guard that she almost choked instead. She coughed and spluttered as she fought to get her breath back.

“That’s a funny reaction,” he said, all trace of frustration now gone.

“What the hell did you just say? You’re not retiring.”

“No, but one day I will. I’ve been planning on talking to you about this. You’re going to be a great mechanic, but that’s not enough nowadays. I’d like you to take over the running of this place eventually. I’m not promising you anything, mind. The pension’s not going to be enough to keep me so I’ll need to look at selling. Might as well line you up to be kept on as manager though, eh?”

She stared at him, not sure what she was hearing. She shook her head. “I’m still an apprentice, Max. And I’m no good with people. You’ve said that yourself.”

“That’s all in your head. This… act of yours. Simone, you can’t spend the rest of your life in here with your head buried under a car bonnet. The world doesn’t work like that anymore. There’s no money in it. You need to be the boss. I want to help you get there.”

She turned away, not able to look at his kind face anymore for the shame she was feeling. Max had seemed like a harsh, impatient man when she first came into the garage looking for a job. He’d taken one look at her purple hair and told her to bugger off. She’d persisted and been surprised to find he was nothing like what she’d expected. He could be tough, but he was fair. No, that didn’t even begin to cover it. He was like a big teddy bear underneath.

And she was taking the piss.

“Max, stop, no. I can’t do this anymore. It’s not fair. You and I both know there’s going to be no work until the power comes back and whatever’s stopping the cars from working is fixed. You don’t have to…” she shook her head and stared at her feet. “I should go. I don’t want you paying me for doing nothing.”

“What are you talking about? There’s lots to do. That scrapyard’s a mess.”

She shook her head. “I can’t do it, Max. I can’t have you paying me for just hanging around here. Can’t you see? There’s nothing left to do.”

To her surprise, he just raised an eyebrow. “That’s often the way. I pay you now so that when we’re busy you don’t start complaining about being overworked. That’s how it works.”

He sounded so convincing, but she couldn’t accept it. “No,” she said, shaking her head. “That’s not a problem. When have I ever complained about being too busy?”

“Exactly. You’re not a bloody moaner like most other people your age.”

“You can’t just say everyone under the age of fifty is a moaner. You’ll sound like a grumpy old man.”

He rolled his eyes. “Come on. Let’s go. Lucky I never upgraded to that computer inventory system, eh? A pen and notepad is the only way.”

“No, Max.” She tried to swallow the image of Graham, which hadn’t left her mind since she got into work. He was her problem. Not Max’s. He had enough to deal with.

He turned around. “I’m not going to take no for an answer. Come on. Prove you’re not a quitter.”

She threw her hands up. Was he really that naive to what was going on? “We rarely get a customer, Max! Most of the customers we do have are people from the town who know you know everything about cars. It’s even worse now. I can’t keep pulling the wool over your eyes! There’s no work for me here. And there’s not going to be. You might as well flush the money you’re paying me down the toilet.”

His face fell and she shut up, gasping for breath and wishing she could take it all back.

But when he spoke, his voice was even and calm. He turned away. “Love, you’re not pulling the wool over my eyes. Don’t you worry about that. You’re a good mechanic and a good worker. A good worker who has to put up with a hell of a lot of shit at home.”

Si gasped and stumbled backwards. “What do you… I…” she shook her head. How could he possibly know? Was he guessing? She’d never talked about her personal life.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “The last thing I wanted to do was hurt your pride, but it needed to be said.”

“I don’t understand,” she stuttered. “I never said—”

“You didn’t need to. People talk. That stepdad of yours is no good. That house should have been yours by rights. What he did…”

She shook her head. She didn’t know whether to be mortified or relieved.

“It’s no reflection on you, you know that don’t you?”

She shrugged. She wasn’t sure that she did; not really. If she’d had any brains at all, she’d have stopped her mum from marrying him when she had the chance. She’d always known he was trouble.

He shook his head. “You’d better stop telling me not to pay you. It’s my money and I’ll do what I want with it, including paying good staff to keep them on my books, do you hear?”

She smiled, rubbing the side of her eyes. A lump had formed in her throat and she felt awkward all of a sudden. “Thanks, Max, I don’t even know what to say. I’m so grateful, you know, I…”

“Stop it,” he grunted. “If you start getting sappy on me, I’ll fire you. I can’t deal with that nonsense. Now, are you going to help me update the inventory or not?”

Si smiled. For the first time in a very long time, she felt like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders.

“Come on, now,” Max barked. “I can tell by that smile on your face that you’re daydreaming. I think I preferred the surly version—forget everything I said before.”

She laughed. She’d been working for him for two years and she’d thought she knew him. “Fine then. I’ll remind you about that. For the record, this stocktake is pointless. Who’s going to come in here looking for…” she looked down. “The cracked wing mirror of a Ford Sierra? Half of these cars are in the most ridiculous colours too. Are you secretly colourblind?”

Max smiled and nodded. It was all about the banter for him—that was how you showed people they meant something to you.

“I’m glad to see you admit it.”

“I’m not admitting anything. You’ll see. When this mess gets sorted out, all it takes is…” he cleared his throat and waited for her to look up. He pointed to the pile beside him. “Some bloke with a classic Jag who can’t find parts anywhere else.”