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

He couldn’t blame Terry. He was frightened. They were all frightened. And it was easy for them to forget about Olivia’s condition when she appeared calm on the surface. He understood that.

He’d been wondering about the fighter jets. They’d come from the south. He hadn’t said anything, but he was sure now that they weren’t enemies, or if they were, they were there for a different reason than bombing. Because wouldn’t they have struck London if that was their intention?

And why would they bother? He gritted his teeth. Hadn’t they already devastated the place? What was the need to strike again when all they had to do was sit back and wait for the county to implode?

Then again, that didn’t automatically make them friendly.

He didn’t know what to think.

All he could do was keep on pedalling.

A few times he saw signs for towns off the motorway, but none of the names were familiar and the blasted things never said how far away those places were. He was desperate enough to consider just choosing one at random and going there, but he didn’t want to take them miles off course when their morale was already so low. And going alone wasn’t an option—who knew what sort of state Olivia would get herself in if Terry chose to share his theories when Clive wasn’t there?

No, they had no choice but to go on.

That was until he saw a sign with a familiar name. He’d done a course there years ago. Back then it had been a town in its own right. Now London had almost expanded to absorb it.

He sped up and passed the others, wanting to get a good look at the area beyond the off-ramp before he committed to it. Sadly it was no help. He could see a scrapyard and some other dilapidated industrial buildings just beyond the exit, but everything else was blocked by the hills.

“Bugger.”

“What is it?”

He spun around. He hadn’t expected them to catch up to him so quickly. “Nothing,” he muttered. He sighed. “I recognised one of the towns on the sign there. I thought it might be a good place to stop. But I can’t see beyond those hills.”

Annie frowned and he knew what she was going to say before she even said it. “But why? We’ve already stopped. We agreed the juices would keep us going without us needing to stop for water.”

Clive sighed. “I’m worried about Olivia. I’d like to stock up on medicine like we talked about.”

“Of course. Sorry. With everything that’s been…” she frowned. “Did you hear that?”

Clive had, and his heart was hammering. In the first second or two, he’d thought it was the fighter jets again. But it wasn’t. “That’s a car.”

“Yeah. It must be an older model. We knew about this.”

They did, but that made it no less startling to hear. He looked around, trying to see it. It was a clear day, but he couldn’t see the sun glinting off a windscreen. He wished they were up in those hills nearby, though he didn’t fancy the prospect of having to cycle over them.

“What is it? Can you see it?”

He shook his head.

“You seemed worried.”

He was about to disagree when he realised that she was right. He was worried. He closed his eyes. It was a big beast of an engine.

Terry reached them then, panting and spluttering. He’d stood up to work the pedals faster. Olivia must have sensed his panic because she too was moving faster than she had all day, her face screwed up in concentration.

“Is that a car?”

Clive nodded.

“What are the chances they’ll stop and help us?”

“Help us do what? There are four of us and we’ve got bikes.”

“Well,” Terry said. “Maybe we could try and take it from them. We do have guns.”

Clive shook his head. “We’re not crooks. But they might be. Let’s get out of sight until they pass. There’s an industrial estate down there.”

“How can you possibly tell they’re crooks?”

Clive turned and stared at her. “Listen to the way they’re gunning the engine. I may be wrong, but I’d prefer not to take the chance.”

“What, are you telling me you wouldn’t rather have a car?”

“We have no idea what we’re dealing with, Terry,” he said, wishing he could be blunt. It was risky enough being out on bicycles in the present climate. The only people who’d take the even greater risk of going out in a car were those who knew no better—and they’d soon be taken advantage of—or those who knew the dangers and didn’t care.

Clive didn’t want to meet the latter; not with his wife present.

“Let’s go,” he murmured. “They’re getting closer. If you want to take the risk, you can. Olivia and I are going to find somewhere sheltered to eat lunch.”

He’d intended to find the most deserted looking warehouse he could, but Clive soon realised there was no time to properly scope the place out. The roar of the engine was getting louder.

“That junkyard,” he hissed. “Go as fast as you can.”

“The scrapyard?” Terry muttered. “How do you know that’s not where they’re going?”

Clive frowned. “We don’t have a choice. Let’s go.” From the motorway the place had looked like a mess, so he hoped it was just as disorganised close up. “We’ll find somewhere to hide with the bikes. If they…” he glanced at his wife. “We’ll be in a better position to defend ourselves if we need to. We can take them by surprise.”

He looked around, making sure for the last time that there wasn’t a better hiding place. There wasn’t. There was a steel barrier running along the shoulder on each side. One person might have been able to hide behind it, but four of them and four bikes? He wasn’t going to take that risk.

They raced down the slip road and followed it round to the left. The scrapyard was three hundred yards ahead of them. Clive’s stomach was in knots as he realised he’d sent them all into a natural valley. With any luck, anyone driving past wouldn’t see them, but if someone happened to be looking in their direction…

They squealed to a halt outside the junkyard and Clive was delighted to see something he hadn’t noticed from the motorway. The place had an old garage attached. “We can hide in here. Bring your bikes.”

They all dismounted and Annie hurried over to the roller door at the front.

“Wait,” he hissed. “Stop. There could be someone inside.”

She darted back to them. “It’s locked anyway. Wouldn’t move.”

“Okay,” he whispered. “Just be careful.”

“Who’s going to be hanging around an old garage? It looks deserted.”

“Let’s confirm that, shall we? I’ll go look for a back door.” He paused. The roar of the engine was close now—he prayed they’d just carry on up the motorway. “Let’s all go.”

He crept around the corner and walked along the narrow passageway between the garage and the scrapyard fence. His bike wheel clicked every time it completed a full rotation and he made a mental note to check it. He glanced behind him, expecting to see the others close by. They were all lingering back near the road.

“Come on,” he hissed. If that car got off the motorway at the same exit they’d used, they’d definitely be seen. Thankfully they began to move without him having to tell them again.

Clive looked around as he went. The place was a mess. Good , he thought. Makes it more likely that no-one has been here for a very long time.

He smiled when they got around the back. There was another advantage to rundown old places. The door was old and weak. Certainly nowhere near as secure as one might have expected a working garage to be. He frowned as he took in the brackets on either side. They looked like a recent addition.