Fighting Darkness: A Post-Apocalyptic EMP Thriller (Fighting to Survive Book 2) Page 3

He shook his head. At least he’d gotten them away from her. Zane was the worst. He was missing something that other people had, that was the only way to explain it. Max would never admit to being frightened of anyone, but he was glad Zane hadn’t shown up in his stuffy little shed in the last couple of days.

  Maybe he’s dead, he thought, though he didn’t dare hope.

  Max had no idea what they were up to. All he knew was they had a whole load of cars they wanted fixing. At first he’d been able to hear them roaring around at all hours of the day and night, but now that activity had died away. He hoped it was because of him. He’d held out, despite their repeated threats to break his arms and legs.

  Let them. He’d be no use to them then. Maybe then they’d do the decent thing and put a bullet in his head. It’d be better than being all cooped up like this.

  He didn’t see the point in doing what they wanted. He didn’t know what they were up to, but it didn’t take a genius to figure out it was something bad. Going along with them might help them ruin other peoples’ lives.

  He sat back down in the corner, wincing as he did so. Just because they had spared his limbs didn’t mean they’d left him alone. He was still tender from the last time Zane had unleashed on him and driven blow after blow into his kidneys. He’d pissed blood for a whole day.

  How many more days of this?

  Harry had taken to coming into the shed once a day and sitting in front of him. Max didn’t know why they hadn’t just found another mechanic to terrorise. Surely there was some young lad out there who’d be glad to hang around with a bunch of criminals.

  The window was too high to reach, and even if Max had been more agile, it had bars in front of it that had originally been intended to keep trespassers out, but now kept Max in.

  A key rattled in the door and Max’s heart started to race.

  Max had smiled the first time he saw Harry. He’d seemed so out of place. For a brief moment, Max had assumed he was the level-headed one—maybe the brother of one of the other maniacs who’d had a crisis of conscience and come to free him. It hadn’t taken long for him to realise that the man’s small stature and kindly expression hid a sinister reality.

  Harry was just as fearsome as Zane in his way.

  Max swallowed. Not that he was going to share that fear with the man. He hadn’t broken yet and he wasn’t going to. No matter how hungry or bored he got.

  “Max,” Harry said with a wide smile.

  Max kept his expression neutral, hiding his disdain for the man. Harry had told him once—breezily, as always—what he did with people who pissed him off. Max hadn’t believed him at first, but even then he hadn’t tried to tackle the guy: Harry always had at least two bodyguards, each carrying a shotgun. Max knew what a shotgun could do to a man at close range. Even though he wanted this boredom to end, deep down he didn’t have the guts to end it like that.

  “Ah, still giving me the silent treatment.”

  Max glanced at the man as he made his way to the other side of the room. He was alarmed by the look on Harry’s face. Usually so inscrutable, today there was a sense of triumph about him that made Max extremely uncomfortable.

  He wanted to ask what had changed. But he wouldn’t. If he spoke now, they’d see it as a sign of weakness.

  Harry definitely had a spring in his step. Perhaps he’d found a new mechanic. Whether that was good or bad, Max didn’t know. He couldn’t imagine them just putting a bullet in his head, not after all the trouble he’d caused them.

  Max fought the urge to look away and instead stared coldly at Harry. Not for the first time, he wondered what had happened to turn him into the kind of monster capable of locking up another person like an animal. Or had he just been born like that, one of those twisted psychos they made documentaries about?

  Harry smiled. “How long has it been now? And you haven’t said a word. Not even when Zane and his boys were beating the shit out of you.”

  Max tried to keep the emotion off his face. It hadn’t been easy to stay quiet when he was being punched so hard it felt like their fists would come all the way through his body and out the other side. But he wouldn’t give Harry a reaction. He wouldn’t.

  “Ah. Cat still got your tongue. Very heroic.” Harry licked his lips and Max felt wrong-footed somehow—like something important had happened and he’d missed it. Still, he said nothing, even though the urge to leap to his feet and batter the short man was now stronger than ever.

  Max looked away and thought about the garage instead, imagining himself back there with a big queue of classic motors waiting to be tinkered with.

  Harry leaned in close. “Daydreaming about a certain young lady?”

  Max’s heart started to race. He snapped his head around to Harry and stared at him, only realising his mistake when it was too late. Harry was baiting him. Looking for a reaction.

  It was working.

  “Ah,” Harry said, turning to the two men behind him and laughing. “That got his attention, eh?”

  Max swallowed. He’s bluffing, he told himself. Has to be. He worked hard to get his breathing back under control. He felt sick at the thought of a guy like Harry even knowing Si existed. He’d never had children of his own. She was like a daughter to him. More than that—he actually liked her, which was more than a lot of his mates felt towards their own offspring.

  “Simone,” Harry purred, drawing the syllables out. “Sim-ohhh-nee. Pretty name for such a prickly little thing.”

  Beads of sweat broke out on Max’s forehead. Despair took over to the extent that he no longer had control over his own body. The next thing he knew, the two minders had rushed forward and shoved him off their boss with their free hands.

  Max reared up against them as they closed ranks in front of Harry. He didn’t care that they had shotguns pointed at him. He was past caring. “What the fuck did you say?”

  “Ah,” Harry said smiling. “He speaks. Calm down, boys. There was really no need.”

  One of the huge men grunted. Max filled with rage again at the thought of these goons anywhere near her. He grabbed the barrel of the man’s shotgun and wrenched it to one side, smashing his forehead into the goon’s face when he was off-balance and stumbling towards him. Max felt nothing—the surge of adrenaline in his body masked the pain as the other man rushed forward and shoved the barrel of his gun under Max’s chin.

  “Calm down, boys. Stop it.”

  The big man Max had headbutted lay groaning on the ground. The other one stood his ground, pushing the weapon so hard that Max’s mouth watered and he struggled to swallow.

  “I said calm down!”

  Even though he was head, shoulders and chest taller than Harry, the guy obeyed immediately.

  “Don’t even think of trying it on again,” Harry said, eyes narrowed. “I’ll only take it out on her.”

  His words were worse than any blow from Zane. “You’re bluffing. She’s not here.”

  “Oh, but she is. My boys brought her in. She put up a right fight, she did. Set the garage alight and everything.”

  Max gasped and shook his head. It wasn’t the garage he cared about. “No. You’re making it up. She wouldn’t do that.” Even as he said it, he knew he was wrong. It was exactly what she would have done if she felt backed into a corner and threatened.

  “Don’t look so down, son. I haven’t hurt her.” His smile disappeared. “Yet. Don’t think I won’t.”

  “You’re bluffing.”

  “Am I? Perhaps I am. Perhaps I’ve just imagined that whining little bitch with her purple hair and bad attitude. Just like I imagined setting that Renault she was driving alight. I’d thought about driving it over here and showing you; watching as the truth hit you. It was more fun making her watch it go up in flames.”

  Max froze. Harry wasn’t making this up.

  Harry wasn’t lying.

  He’d gotten to her.

  Max’s mouth watered and he tried his best to stifle the urge to retch. He couldn’t
allow Harry to see how much this was affecting him. “What do you want?”

  “That’s the question you should have been asking me days ago. You know what I want. You know cars and I’ve got cars that need fixing. I want you to work for me. It’s not like I’m asking you to do anything untoward, is it?”

  “I want to see her first,” Max hissed. “Prove to me she’s okay.”

  Harry threw his head back and laughed. “You’re not in a position to bargain, my friend. It’s simple. You work for me now. If you don’t fall into line, I’ll take my frustrations out on her.”

  Max closed his eyes. “Okay. Fine. I’ll do what you want. So long as you don’t touch a hair on that girl’s head.”

  Clive

  Clive pushed his plate away and smiled. He’d kept expectations low even when the others had been daydreaming about delicious meals and a safe place to sleep. He would never in his wildest dreams have thought they’d have fresh fish for breakfast ever again.

  The people around the table were almost unrecognisable from the worn-down group that had arrived at the farm.

  His wife, Olivia, looked reasonably calm and he allowed himself a moment of hope. He’d been terrified about her agoraphobia and how she’d react to being away from the safety of the flat. They hadn’t had a choice but to leave, of course, and it was likely that the flat had been raided or destroyed by now. She hadn’t even left the flat in more than a year, so his worry had been justified, but she was dealing with it far better than he had expected.

  He put that down to the fact that she was too focused on looking after Terry to stop and think about the chaos that had been going on around her. Their former neighbour seemed to be stable now, but she was still keeping a close eye on him because of the risk of infection. They had taken as much medication as they could carry from a pharmacy they’d broken into, but that wasn’t a catch-all solution. If he developed a serious infection, there was no hospital to bring him to in order to get him treated with IV antibiotics. There was still so much that could go wrong.

  Olivia pushed her chair away from the table and it was clear she’d been thinking about the same thing. “I’ll go check on Terry. Take him some of this fish. It was wonderful, thank you, Annie.”

  Annie smiled, though she was looking at Dan and not the rest of them. “You’re welcome. It didn’t take us long at all. Let’s hope that wasn’t just a lucky first time. Dan bought me a fishing rod when he got his, but I’ve never actually used it before.”

  Her husband’s expression was darker. “Let’s just hope the neighbours don’t ruin everything and steal all the fish from the river.”

  “Dan, come on. I thought we’d discussed this.”

  A warning light went on immediately in Clive’s brain. They’d spent the previous day eating and catching up on sleep. There hadn’t been much enthusiasm for anything else when they were all so exhausted. “What is it?”

  “It’s fine, Clive,” Annie said. “There are lots of us now. We can deal with it.”

  “The neighbours,” Dan said. “They’re a bunch of arrogant twats from London who’ve been causing trouble since they got here.”

  Clive sighed. Of course he’d wondered about Annie’s claim that the farmhouse was remote. How remote was it possible to be in England? But then he thought about it in context. “I’m sure we can work it out. We’ve got to find a way of cooperating. After all, we’re far safer here than we could ever hope to be in London.”

  “Cooperating? They let our sheep out the other day. And the cattle. They’re trying to sabotage us.”

  Annie groaned. “Or the gate blew open.”

  “Twice? Do you seriously believe that?”

  Clive stared at the empty plate in front of him. He’d slept well the last two nights, but he was still fatigued. His mind wasn’t working as quickly as usual: getting to the farmhouse had been a cue to finally relax.

  “Let’s not worry about it. You managed to get the sheep back in, I take it? Was there anyone down at the river this morning when you were down there?”

  “No,” Annie said. “Though it was a mess with all the burnt reeds.”

  Dan smiled. “See?”

  Clive ignored him. “Perhaps it was bravado. But even if it wasn’t, we should conserve our energy.”

  He looked around the table. Si, he noticed now, hadn’t said a word all morning. She was staring at her plate like some people watched television. Now that he thought about it, he couldn’t recall seeing much of her the day before. He looked away. The girl had had a hard few days.

  When no-one else spoke, he cleared his throat. “Annie, Dan, will you show me around the land? I’d like to get an idea of where we are; what the boundaries are like; what food sources we’ve got.”

  Clive took a deep breath and filled his lungs with fresh air. Annie had said they got the farm for a cheap price and even his untrained eyes could see why. It was bad land. There was one big hill, but even the flat parts were uneven. The grass was patchy, even in places where the sheep hadn’t been allowed to graze. It wasn’t prime farmland.

  But then it didn’t need to be. The proximity of the river meant a lot. It was an extra source of water for growing vegetables as well as for domestic use. That was going to be useful, since no-one knew how deep the well went.

  Clive looked back once they got to the bottom of the hill close to the boundary with their troublesome neighbours. He was encouraged by what he saw. Annie’s house was completely blocked from view by the hill.

  Si trailed behind them. She didn’t seem particularly interested in their surroundings. He wondered why she’d bothered coming with them.

  It wasn’t long before they reached the river. It wasn’t a large piece of land. The hill made it less useful than it might have been, at least in terms of growing crops. It would have been no obstacle for the sheep, which were currently grazing on the other side of the property—the one Clive hadn’t yet seen.

  They stood on the river bank. Clive had to agree with Dan: whoever had set the reeds alight was an idiot. What must have been a lovely view was now spoiled by the charred mess in front of them.

  The land on the other side looked even poorer. The riverbank rose sharply to a steep hill, so Clive couldn’t see much from this side.

  “What’s over there?”

  Annie and Dan shook their heads. “Not sure. To get over there by the roads it’s about half an hour’s drive.”

  “You’ve never swum across?”

  “No,” Annie said, sounding a little embarrassed. “I suppose we should have, but the water’s always freezing. If I swim, it’s always been at the pool in town.”

  Clive stared over at the opposite bank, looking for some clue of life. He glanced down at the water again. It was flowing fast. “How deep is it?”

  Dan shook his head. “Deep. It gets to thigh-high pretty quickly.”

  Clive nodded, still staring at the clear water.

  “Where does it flow to?”

  “Middleton,” Dan said, after a short pause. “It’s a village about three miles from here. Why do you ask? It’s not as though we have a boat.”

  “No,” Clive said. Yet, he thought.

  The river was an asset. Perhaps he’d try and talk to the neighbours. He wasn’t worried about them depleting the supply of fish, as Dan seemed to be. Their actions concerned him, though. It was important to establish a relationship early on. That river wasn’t just a food source, but a potential mode of transport. Possibly even power. They could surely settle their differences for the greater good.

  When they reached the fence that cut them off from the neighbouring land on the other side, Clive slowed down to allow Si to catch him while the others walked on.

  She was so deep in thought that she didn’t even notice him.

  He cleared his throat.

  “Si, you seem troubled.”

  She looked up at him, confused. “Of course I am.”

  “Why don’t you tell me about it? We’re all out
of our comfort zone here.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t care about that. I can manage. I’ve lived in worse.”

  “What is it then?”

  She stopped. Her cheeks were red and blotchy. “Don’t pretend you don’t know, alright? I told you. Just because we’re in the country, it doesn’t mean we can all just relax and play farmers. Max is still out there. Who knows what that Harry bloke is doing to him.”

  Clive winced. Of course. He’d had a lot on his mind, but it was no excuse for forgetting. “Yes. Of course.”

  She was still staring up at him. Her face was twisted in anguish. “It’s alright for us here, but he’s in danger. I can’t just pretend like everything’s okay when it’s not.”

  “Of course not.”

  “You promised to help me. I mean, I don’t care. I can go on my own if I have to.”

  He shook his head. “Are you mad? Good lord, we were lucky to get away from that service station alive.”

  She crossed her arms and set her jaw. “I will if I have to. I’m not leaving him alone. If it was me in that situation, he’d do everything he possibly could to find me. So that’s what I’m going to do for him. I’m just telling you. Stop acting as if you don’t know why I want to go. Because I’m going. Every minute I spend here talking about fish and fences and sheep is another minute Max is trapped.”

  Clive sighed. He had to bear in mind her age and the fact that she’d been through so much already. Max was like her father. But there was no getting around how dangerous it would be to go back and look for him.

  “Si,” he said as gently as he could. “We have to consider the possibility that he’s already…” he looked into her eyes. This shouldn’t have been so difficult. He couldn’t get the words out. He’d only known the girl a matter of days, but they’d been through so much together in that short time.

  She glared up at him as if willing him to say it.

  “Si, you saw what those men were like. You’ve got to face—”

  “I know that,” she snapped. “Do you think I’m stupid? It doesn’t matter. If there’s a chance he’s alive—and I think there is, because they wanted him to work for them—I’ve got to go down there and look for him. Don’t you see? What would you do if it was Olivia? Would you shrug and say well, she’s probably dead so I won’t bother?”