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

She closed her eyes and clung onto the dash as Si barely took the turn in third gear.

“Be careful.” She turned and looked behind her. “Wait for the others. This road gets windy.”

“Windier than it is now? I’m sorry. I’m not used to driving on country roads.”

Annie sighed. “We’re almost there.”

Si pulled off the road and waited until the others took their turn. “He must be doing okay,” she said, accelerating off again. “Otherwise they’d be going a bit faster.”

“I don’t know. Maybe Clive is trying to drive as smoothly as possible.” She dreaded to think about what was going on in that Jaguar. “We’re turning right up here. Use your indicators so the others know we’re turning.”

“Jeez,” Si muttered. “You don’t need to tell me how to drive.”

“I’m sorry. I’m just…” what was she? Nervous? Excited? At the end of her tether? She didn’t know. “I… What if he’s not there?”

It was the question she’d been afraid to ask out loud, but now she couldn’t avoid it. The thought of seeing him again was what had propelled her through their nightmare journey over the past few days. The risk had always been there at the back of her mind, she’d just been to busy to focus on it.

Si shrugged. “Where would he be?”

“I don’t know. Maybe he thought I was taking too long and he decided to come looking for me.”

“That would’ve been pretty stupid. Aren’t there lots of ways you could have come?”

Annie winced. “You don’t have to be so negative.”

“Forgive me if I don’t really care,” Si said, turning to her as she took the turn onto Annie’s road. “Max is still out there somewhere. And this is delaying me from finding him.”

“Can you not,” Annie hissed through gritted teeth, “look at me whilst you’re driving? It’s not safe.”

“Life’s not safe anymore.”

Annie sighed. “Stop being so melodramatic,” she said, though she felt guilty as soon as the words were out of her mouth. The girl had obviously been through a lot. They all had. “I told you I’d help you find him when—”

She caught sight of the rickety wooden platform on the hill. It was the highest point on their land and Dan had built it so they could lie under the stars on mild nights. They’d spent hours up there, whispering and plotting and planning.

“What?”

“Nothing,” she whispered, not wanting to share the precious memory. “It’s not far now.”

By now, every tree; every defunct electricity pole was achingly familiar. The rusted gates. The abandoned farmhouse. The blind junction that wasn’t as dangerous as it looked, since only locals came this way and they knew to beep their horn before emerging from the little laneway they were now whizzing past.

Annie closed her eyes as Si drove hard into a corner and she was thrown against the door. “It’s the next house on the left. Not far now.”

Even the bumps in the road were familiar now. She counted down the seconds, her heart in her mouth as she wondered if he’d be there. He had to be there, didn’t he?

Unless he came looking for you.

She swallowed as Si slowed down and crunched onto the gravel driveway. Home.

Her eyes flickered open. There was a light on. She could see the dim glow through the glass in the door. It looked like it was coming from the kitchen at the back of the house. That should have filled her with relief, but it didn’t.

It was a cold night, but she couldn’t smell the wood burner. That made no sense. Dan was always cold. Sometimes he lit that fire on summer evenings if it had been raining and the air felt damp.

Si stopped the car and reached for the keys.

“Don’t,” Annie muttered, reaching for the door handle.

“What? I’m not going to leave it running all night. It’s not like we can go to the petrol station and fuel up.”

“Just…” she opened the door and climbed out. If she’d thought the events at the garage had shaken her, it was nothing compared to the anxiety she felt now.

The Jaguar crunched down the driveway as she reached the front door. She didn’t have her keys—she hadn’t thought of grabbing them in the rush to leave London. She’d just assumed Dan would be there.

She held her breath and raised her hand to knock on the door. She hesitated. Could she handle it? She turned away and looked at the Jaguar. She turned back. They were strangers.

She was overwhelmed—she hadn’t expected to be. Even standing there in the porch; the wooden doorjamb with the scratch where the earlier red paint showed through under the more neutral grey they had compromised on. The tiles they’d put down and ripped up several times until Dan was happy with the spacing. The hanging basket of flowers, long dead now, that she’d put up there with the best of intentions.

It was home.

And she was here, against all the odds.

She took another deep breath. What am I waiting for?

She knocked.

Waited.

Knocked again.

There was still no answer.

She closed her eyes. She’d never allowed herself to dwell on this possibility.

She turned and started. Olivia had come up behind her without her noticing.

“Do you have a spare key? We need to get Terry inside as soon as possible.”

She nodded. Of course. They left one under a pot at the back. She stepped out of the porch and hurried around the corner. The gravel crunched somewhere in front of her. She froze. All of the others were by the cars. There was no-one…

A second later, she was looking down the barrel of a gun.

“No,” she cried, reaching for her own weapon. Had it really come to this? Two hundred miles across hell only to be shot on her own doorstep?

Not without a fight.

“Annie?”

The gun lowered and a moment later, a man stepped out from the side of the house. It was getting dark, but she’d know him anywhere.

“Dan!” she cried, heart thumping. “Is that a…”

She put her gun back in her pocket and he lowered his shotgun to the floor. She ran to him and leapt into his arms, crying big ugly tears of relief.

“Annie, thank goodness. I was so worried.”

She closed her eyes and relished the feeling of his strong arms around her. He’d grown a beard. Slowly, she felt herself pulled back to the present.

“Dan, I’ll explain everything later. Terry’s been shot. We need to get him inside.”

“Shot?”

She nodded. There was a lot to tell him. “Later.”

Annie sat by the empty woodburner with a generous glass of scotch. Si had gone to bed. Dan was helping Olivia and Clive with Terry. Annie didn’t have the energy left to help. She looked around the achingly familiar room. Something stopped her from loading up the wood burner and starting a fire even though she was freezing.

She didn’t hear Dan come into the room. She looked up at him. The warm light of the oil lamp should have been flattering, but it wasn’t. He’d aged five years since the last time she’d seen him a few weeks earlier.

She swallowed. “How is he?”

“Olivia’s done everything she can. It’s a waiting game now. He seems stable, though.”

She looked down at her glass, which was sweating despite the lack of ice. “What’s going on, Dan? We have lots of firewood in the shed. Why no fire?” She glanced over at the corner of the room, where he’d propped up his gun. “And what’s with that? I thought you were dead against guns?”

There was a dead look in his eyes. He crossed the room and hunkered down in front of her, resting his hands on her knees. “I’m glad I listened to my gut. I knew you’d come back, but there were times I wanted to pack a bag and come looking for you.”