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

“Well it’s not, alright? I’m just old and fat.” He said it wearily and he regretted it as soon as the words were out of his mouth. He’d intended to make his bag sound uninviting. All he’d done was make himself even more vulnerable in their eyes.

He could see it in their faces.

None of them spoke, but something must have passed between them because they were leaving the footpath and moving into the road.

No.

He pedalled harder, fearing he was going to faint at any moment. There were lots of people around, but they were all dead-eyed and weary. Those kids could tear him limb from limb and no-one would bat an eyelid. They had their own shit to deal with.

Terry’s heart accelerated to the point where it wasn’t beating anymore, it was fluttering. The feelings of shame and terror he’d felt the day before came rushing back to him and his mind went blank.

A fresh burst of adrenaline shot through his body.

The gun.

Everything changed in that moment.

He wasn’t afraid anymore.

He was in charge.

He pulled the brakes and eased himself onto the ground, thankful for the first time since he set eyes on it that the bike was a woman’s model with a lower bar. His legs were shaking. He turned around and grimaced. The first two boys were only a few feet away from him. The boys at the back started to fan out and surround him.

Terry’s hands began to shake as he looked at their faces. Their eyes were filled with such anger and hostility.

No, he told himself. There’s nothing to be afraid of. Not when you’re armed.

One of the boys reached into his pocket and Terry’s eyes widened as he realised his mistake. He’d assumed they weren’t armed because they hadn’t come at him waving knives around.

He pulled the gun from his pocket and waved it around. “Get away from me,” he snapped, spinning around. They were surrounding him and he was exhausted as it was. He was going to fall over if he kept trying to watch them all.

Whatever flashed across their young faces, it wasn’t fear.

“I said get back!” Terry screamed. “Or I’ll pick you off one by one.”

The look of scepticism in the leader’s face was what pushed him over the edge. He took aim at the kid’s chest, seething with rage at them and at his neighbours. They could have waited for him—would that have been too much to ask for?

He stared at his hands in a daze. The gun kicked up like it was lighter than air. He hadn’t expected his grip to loosen quite so much. It was only a light thing, but it almost toppled him off balance as he stood there stunned and deafened by the blast. He hadn’t consciously pulled the trigger, he’d just been so…

He opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out. He stumbled forwards.

“What the fuck have you done!” someone roared.

Clive froze. There was no split second’s delay while his brain worked out what he had just heard. He knew that sound. He also knew it had come from far enough away that it wasn’t an immediate threat, but close enough to potentially be a source of alarm.

He looked around him, first accounting for everyone in his group. Between watching for danger and keeping an eye on Olivia, there’d been no spare capacity in his mind to worry about anyone else. He groaned when he only counted two instead of three.

He knew what he’d see even before he turned to look behind him.

“Terry.”

Annie had stopped her bike and was staring, horrorstruck, at the scene behind them. Clive shook his head. It was hardly surprising. Terry was alone, though it appeared a gang of youths was fleeing from him. Except for one crumpled figure at Terry’s feet.

“No,” Annie hissed in a strangled voice. “No…”

“Annie!” There was no time to stand around and come to terms with it.

When she didn’t respond, he moved over to her and shook her shoulder. “Annie. Listen to me.” She finally looked up at him. “Stay with Olivia. Keep her safe. I’m going down there.”

Only a few seconds had passed since the gunshot rang through the startlingly quiet air, but it felt like far longer than that. Clive jumped back on his bike and powered back down the road, looking all around him for other threats. He didn’t like what he saw. The buildings that lined the street were rundown and dilapidated. They rose high above the street, giving a would-be attacker countless hiding places to strike from.

His mind raced to make sense of what had happened. That Terry had shot one of the boys was obvious. Why hadn’t they retaliated?

“They had knives,” Terry mumbled when Clive reached him a few seconds later and jumped off his bike.

Regardless of the danger, he had no choice but to act. After all, wasn’t he the one who’d put that weapon in Terry’s hand?

“Give me the gun. Now.” Clive held out his hand as he fell to his knees beside the prone figure on the ground.

“Why? I was defending myself.”

Clive didn’t reply for a minute. He was too focused on feeling for a pulse. He held his breath. It soon became clear that there wasn’t one. He shook his head.

He stood up and brushed the dust off the knees of his trousers. “Give me the gun. Now.”

Terry’s face crumpled. He made no move to hand the weapon over. Clive stared into his eyes. They needed to get the hell out of there, but he couldn’t allow Terry to remain armed after what had happened.

“Gun. Now.” He started to reach for his own weapon.

Terry’s face crumpled. “What was I supposed to do, eh? You lot left me. And they had knives. They showed me. I could’ve been killed. Now you want to punish me?”

Despite the urgency, Clive took a deep breath and exhaled slowly and deliberately. There were so many things he wanted to say. If he’d come on the scene as a police officer, he’d have cuffed Terry on the spot and interrogated him until he broke. But these were exceptional circumstances—hadn’t his own actions the night before proved that?

“We have to move, son. I’m not blaming you, but I also can’t have you running around with a loaded weapon if you’re in shock.”

“I’m not in shock.”

Clive almost laughed. “You’re white as a sheet and you’re shaking so hard you’re almost a blur. Now give me the gun and let’s get back on the road. I’ll give it back to you later.”

Finally, with obvious reluctance in his eyes, Terry handed over the weapon, barrel first.

“Never point a gun at anyone,” he hissed through gritted teeth. “That’s rule number one.”

“Sorry,” Terry whispered.

Clive bit his tongue. On the surface Terry seemed like a grown man sulking like a child after being scolded, but he knew better than to jump to that conclusion.

“Get back on your bike. Now. We need to move.”

Clive picked up his own bike and waited. Terry was obviously in a state of shock, but they didn’t have time to properly deal with that now. He was worried about those boys running back to their fathers or older brothers. They couldn’t stick around.

“Shouldn’t we…” Terry pointed at the boy on the ground. “Shouldn’t we get your wife to see if there’s anything she can do?”

“She’s a nurse,” Clive said, shaking his head. “Not an undertaker. Now, come on. Please. I know it’s hard, but we need to get out of here right now.” He glanced over his shoulder at the abandoned buildings behind them, hoping it wasn’t already too late.

Come on , Annie told herself. Move.

It was a challenge. Her nerves were shot after everything that had happened in the past two days. Her legs felt like lead; the muscles above her knees screamed in protest every time there was the slightest incline in the road, which happened a lot. She had never noticed that before. There was no relief in the downhills because they were too gradual and there were too many obstacles to avoid.