Dark Survival Page 3
And then there was the talk he wasn’t happy with this place. That him and his cronies—the likes of Gavin and Owen—wanted to overthrow it. Felt like they could run it better themselves, even though Harriet knew that was bullshit.
So, yeah. Peter came with mixed reviews.
But right now, Harriet had more important matters at hand. She brushed her hair out of her face. “It’s Oscar. I… I woke up, and he wasn’t there.”
Concern stretched across Peter’s face. “Really? Do you have any idea where he might’ve gone?”
Harriet scratched her arms. So Peter hadn’t seen Oscar. Shit. “I… I heard him mention something about seeing a huge bird over by the church. You know how he is with wildlife. I think he might’ve gone over there.”
Peter nodded. A slight smile to his face. Discomforting. “If you want to go take a look, I can always come along with you.”
She wanted to say yes. She wanted to thank him for his courtesy.
But those alarm bells rang away.
The skin on her body turned cold.
She went to smile, to shake her head. “I—”
“Mummy!”
Harriet’s world froze.
She spun around.
Oscar came running up from behind her.
Little leash she kept on him trailing behind. Some people gave her shit for it, told her he wasn’t a dog. But they didn’t know what Oscar was like. Didn’t know how short his attention span was. Didn’t know just how prone to running off he was.
So screw them and their judgemental bullshit.
She saw him running towards her.
Tears rolling down his face.
“Oscar? Oscar! Where on earth have you been?”
She rushed over to him. Wrapped her arms around him. Held him close.
“Where were you? I’ve been looking all over for you.”
He looked back at her with that tear-soaked face. “I was in the shower,” he said. “Trying to get it working.”
Harriet’s cheeks flushed. Her heart sank. “You—you were back home? All this time?”
Oscar nodded then leaned in, wrapping his arms around her again. “I thought you’d run away.”
Harriet pulled Oscar close. She closed her eyes. Felt his warmth against her. “No, darling. No. I’m sorry. Mummy’s sorry. I’d never leave you. I’d never do that to you. Okay?”
She kept on holding Oscar close as the discontent at the breakfast stall grew louder and louder.
And all this time, she could sense Peter standing over her, staring at the pair of them.
She heard him say something. Barely even registered, at the time.
“Don’t worry. We’ll make sure you’re looked after when things change around here.”
She didn’t think much about what he said.
But she’d remember those words, later.
When things change around here…
Chapter Five
When Martin reached the campsite, he froze.
It was late morning. It’d taken him a couple of hours to walk out here. Bruce trailed by his side, Ella back at the cabin. He’d asked Ella if she wanted to come with him. Offered her a chance to join him. He couldn’t stop thinking about what she’d said about real-world experience, and how she felt like he was suffocating her in some way.
That wasn’t how it was supposed to come across. He didn’t want her to feel that way. He wanted her to be ready and prepared for this new world, whatever it might throw at her. He needed her to be.
But at the same time, he was afraid of losing her.
He was afraid of putting her in any kind of danger.
It was a tough balancing act to navigate.
He looked at the smoke rising lightly beyond the trees and held his rifle tight in hand. He’d seen smoke rising here for a few days now. Figured there had to be someone camping here. Not too surprising—there were plenty of people out here, surviving in the wilderness. Which meant he had to be ready for any eventuality. Sure, he wasn’t comfortable with stealing or looting. How did that make him any different to the very people he despised?
But at the same time, he was struggling to hunt. He wasn’t catching enough for Ella, him and Bruce to sustain them. There wasn’t much opportunity for cultivating crops where they were, and it was the wrong time of year anyway. Even the water filtration system he’d tried to set up wasn’t garnering much in the way of success. Surprisingly little rainfall for this time of year, which was a disaster in itself.
It felt like this was the only option. Well, the only other option was finding somewhere new. Starting again elsewhere.
But that brought challenges of its own. It meant trusting other people, for one. Trusting other people with Ella.
It meant taking a risk he wasn’t sure he wanted to take. Not when they had a perfectly good shelter as it was.
And it meant walking away from the log cabin.
Walking away from the past.
Walking away from all links to Sarah, for good.
He sat there a few seconds. Bruce panted by his side. He listened for a sound of life at the camp. Some kind of indication that somebody was there, somebody was waiting for him.
But he didn’t hear anything.
Nothing but the wind against the trees.
Nothing but the birdsong.
He looked at Bruce and half-smiled at him as he sat there, tilting his head, always so inquisitive and curious.
“Looks like we’d better investigate this place, eh lad?”
Bruce tilted his head again.
Martin turned around.
Faced the smoke.
Held his breath.
And then he approached it.
The closer he got to this smoke, the more apparent it became that he wasn’t walking towards something ordinary. He couldn’t see anyone, for one. The tents were totally stationary. There weren’t any dogs barking, on guard, or anything like that.
There was just this burning.
This smoke.
This...
When he saw the source of the smoke, the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end.
There was a charred mound right in the middle of this campsite. At first, Martin assumed it was just a fire that had burned out.
But the closer he looked, the more he realised he was wrong.
He was very wrong.
Because he could see a hand in that mound.
A burned, blackened hand.
Silver ring still wrapped around it.
He stood there for a few seconds. Heart racing. He didn’t want to go down there. Didn’t want to look. Didn’t want to see.
But then the longer he stood there, the more he realised this place was empty. There was nobody here.
And he had to investigate it.
He put a hand on Bruce’s neck. Ruffled his fur, just a little. Martin’s wrist still stung like mad from that bite earlier. Damned dog. “Come on. Best go have a look down there.”
They walked down the slope together towards the open area with the tents. Martin heard the breeze pick up. He heard shuffling all around. He swore he heard movement and voices.
But he knew that was probably just the wind. He couldn’t let it distract him. Couldn’t let it get to him.
He had to investigate this area for himself.
He walked over to the tents first. Checked them, one by one, poking his rifle in there, preparing to fire, ready to pull that trigger if he needed to.
But all of them were empty.
And there was something else about this camp. It looked like there were no supplies at all. Which told Martin either they’d always been bereft of supplies, or it’d been raided.
And the latter seemed more likely.
But then he walked over to that mound in the middle of the camp. The charred remains. The smoke, still rising. Like this was recent. Like it was fresh.
He looked down at the anguished face of the man lying there. He could almost hear his final scream.
The man wasn’t the only one.
There were three bodies. Three he could see, anyway. Two men. A woman. And an ashy mess of God knows what.
It sent shivers right down Martin’s spine. He knew people would resort to violence. He knew a lot of people would resort to violence very damned quickly.
But this...
This was butchery.
It was slaughter.
One month into the end times and already humanity was showing its ugliest face.
He looked at that glistening ring on the man’s finger. Looked at the pained cry on the woman’s face.
He tried to look closer, into those ashen remains, when he heard Bruce growl.
He looked around.
Bruce stood there.
Staring into the trees.
Hackles raised.
Growling.
Martin looked at the trees. Stared into them. Tried to make out someone in there. Tried to figure out if there was someone there.
But he didn’t see anybody.
He crouched down. Ruffled Bruce’s fur, and took a deep breath.
“Come on,” he said. “Let’s get moving.”
He walked away from the campsite, empty-handed, but a mind full of fear and urgency. Urgency to get back to Ella. To make sure she was okay.
As he walked away, he couldn’t shake the feeling he was being watched.
Chapter Six
Not for the first time this month, Harriet and Oscar went to bed hungry.
It was cold. Always was cold at night. Surprising how cold a house without central heating could get. You always took it for granted when you had it. Complained it didn’t get quite hot enough. Moaned when the shower ran a little cool for a few seconds. It was always the way at her flat. She struggled to pay the bills, so every now and then she’d have to resort to throwing a jumper on instead of turning the heating on. Or relying on electric heaters, which actually ended up costing a bomb anyway.
It didn’t seem right. Didn’t seem fair.
But the things Harriet would do right now for a lukewarm shower. Or any shower at all.
The things she’d do for such small comforts.
Oscar lay by her side staring up at the lounge ceiling. He was shivering. She held him close, trying to transfer her warmth to him. If she could feel a whole lot colder just to warm him up, she would do.
There were so many things she wanted to do for Oscar. So many ways in which she wanted to help him feel just a little bit better.
But she knew they were all in vain.
She took a deep breath of the cold, dusty air. She could hear shuffling from the other rooms where everyone else slept. They shared the house between ten of them. Most of the terraced houses along here were the same. The “shelter”, as they called it—probably so it didn’t seem so permanent—housed about a hundred people, all different ages, all from different walks of life. Life was tough. Food wasn’t abundant. Sleeping conditions weren’t ideal.
But it was a roof over the head. It was home.
For now. Until the power came back.
The police were doing the best job they could.
But that job was getting trickier by the day.
This section of Lancaster was overpopulated. The police set it up as a shelter in the early days. Said they had control of the situation. They couldn’t tell anyone when the light or the power was returning, but they had control of the supplies from the supermarkets and dished out the few rations they had appropriately.
But the facade of this place was cracking at the seams. The police numbers were falling. You’d wake up one morning and find another officer gone, no doubt seeking some kind of better life out there for themselves.
And every day, the numbers on this street would rise. The houses would grow even more cramped. Portions of food would get even smaller.
And the strain on this place’s limited resources grew even more fraught by the day.
But what could you say, really?
Because this place did provide food. It did provide shelter. And location-wise, it was pretty good. They had teams going outside the city to hunt. To bring back water. To bring back supplies.
Who was to say things were better anywhere else?
Who was to say the grass was greener on the other side?
“I just don’t get why we can’t all just be happy again.”
Oscar’s words took her by surprise. She turned around. Saw him lying there. Staring up at the mouldy ceiling. Breath clouding in the chilly air.
“What was that, baby?”
“People,” Oscar said, really struggling to find his words. “Why... why can’t we all be happy? Like we used to be?”
Harriet felt a lump in her throat. It was a shame for a young kid like him, not understanding this new world, not understanding the depths desperation led people towards. Especially a kid so compassionate. So full of heart.
Sometimes she had nightmares about something happening to her and Oscar being lost in this world. Caught up in a world he didn’t understand. His angelic nature. His naivety. His inherent goodness. All of it counting against him. All of it holding him back.
She snuggled him tighter. “People will be happy again, angel. We’re just... we’re just struggling now, is all. But things will get better again. Like the stories we read. They always get better. Right?”
Oscar looked at her with those big brown eyes, such a trusting expression on his face. And he smiled at her. “Yeah. They will.”
And it pained her, as she pulled him closer. It hurt her, deep inside. Knots formed in her stomach.
Because she wanted to believe her own words. She wanted so desperately to believe that things really would get better again. That people could be happy again.
But the way she saw it, things were only going to get worse before they got better.
Winter was on its way. Supplies were lowering as they were. Starvation would kick in. Violence would escalate. She’d already heard whispers from the likes of Peter about toppling this place, enjoying the supplies for themselves without the interference of the police.
She shivered at the thought of someone like Peter in charge of this place. He wasn’t cut out for leadership. Control, perhaps. Dictatorship, maybe. But not true leadership.
“Will you tell me the story about the queen and the prince and the dragon?” Oscar asked.
Harriet smirked. “That story again? You must’ve heard it about a hundred times already.”
“But I like it!”
“Okay, okay. Ssh. Don’t go waking anyone up.”
She closed her eyes. Stared into the darkness of her visual field.
“There was a woman once. She had a happy life in a big castle. She was a queen. And the old king promised the queen that one day, she’d be able to rule the land.”
A little smile crept up Oscar’s face. A glimmer of excitement of a familiar story being told once more.
“But something happened. The king, he turned out not being the real king at all. He turned out being an evil dragon. And when the queen had her little baby prince, the queen was stuck with a prince and no castle, all on her own, no way of defending her home. She was kicked out of the castle. Forced into the streets with all the horrible goblins and ghouls. Just the little prince by her side.”
Oscar sucked his thumb. “What did she do?”
Harriet smiled. “The queen felt sad for herself and her prince. But she promised she’d make it back to that castle and rule all over the land one day. She worked her way up. She got strong. She fought goblins and ghouls and demons. And then when she’d got strong enough and her little prince got stronger alongside her, she went back to that castle and faced the dragon.”
Oscar giggled a little. “And then what?”
Harriet thought about Oscar’s dad, Harvey. She thought about the way she’d been working her way back up. The way her ambitions of making a success of herself
had never changed. For herself. For her son.
“The queen and the prince looked the dragon in the eyes. They told him they weren’t scared of him anymore. They were stronger than him. Because they were together. And they fought him. They scared him away from that castle. They took it for themselves, and then the queen let the little prince rule the land.”
“And what was his name? The prince’s name?”
Harriet frowned. “Hmm. I’m not quite sure.”
“Mum!”
“Okay, okay,” Harriet said, laughing. “The little prince’s name was Oscar. And he was the best, strongest prince in the land. And his mother, the queen, always stood by his side and helped him rule. Always.”
She hugged Oscar tighter. Oscar hugged her back. They held each other in the darkness, in the cold, the creaking of floorboards all around, the dread of another looming day always at the back of her mind.
“I’ll always look after you, Oscar. I’ll always be here for you. I promise.”
She felt him tighten his grip around her. “And I will too, Mummy.”
She felt a lump in her throat.
Tears build in her eyes.
“I know,” she said. “I know.”
She kept hold of her son until she was sure he was asleep, and then tried to drift off to sleep herself.
Tomorrow would be a better day.
Tomorrow, things would change, all over again.
She had to keep telling herself that.
She had to keep believing it.
Chapter Seven
Martin and Ella stared at the scraps and braced themselves for another hungry night.
It was late. The nights were getting darker and darker, earlier and earlier. They sat outside, wrapped up in thick coats, a fire lit in front of them. The cold was biting. Honestly, Martin had no idea how the hell he was gonna cope in winter, as much as he tried not to moan much. If this was a sign of things to come, their situation was going to deteriorate very rapidly.