Survival (After the Storm Book 3) Read online

  Stu tensed his jaw. He had to admit that he admired it when someone could be straight with him right from the off. It certainly built the foundations for trust a whole lot better than any suspicious actions did. “Your names?”

  “This is Al, Pete, and Little Bobby. And I’m Alex.”

  “And what have you brought for me, Alex?”

  Alex pulled a rucksack off his bag. He searched around it, dragging out all kinds of foods and contraptions that looked like they would come in handy. First aid kits. Pieces of wire. Even snacks. “As well as this stuff, we’ve got food. We’ve got guns. We’ve also got Al here, who’s a damned good chef if ever I’ve seen one.”

  They laughed. Stu didn’t.

  “But what can all of you bring? All four of you?”

  The four soon stopped laughing at that point. They looked at one another again, clearly uneasy. “We understand it’s a world where trust can be strained. We get that. Only a few days back we had to deal with some prick who thought he could just take, take, take, and expect the world to keep feeding him. This bag belonged to him, so you can see how that one worked out for him. But anyway. We get that’s not how it works. So if you give us a chance to be a part of what you’ve got here, I promise you we’ll repay you some way or another.”

  Stu hesitated for a few seconds. That voice in his head told him it wasn’t too late to take these people down. That Hailey had her gun on them, and that she was a good shot.

  Instead, he took a deep breath and walked slowly towards them.

  He stopped right before them and looked each of them in the eye, intently. He tried to measure them up. Weigh up how tough they were. How essential they’d be to his system. “You have to understand that we don’t just let strangers in. We have to get to know them first.”

  Alex nodded. “Fully. Completely. We wouldn’t be here if we didn’t understand that.”

  Stu nodded, scanning Pete, Al, and Bobby again. “And you have to realise things won’t be as easy at first. We want to know you’re with us. Really with us. That might mean doing some pretty menial tasks.”

  Alex smiled again. “We understand the way the world works.”

  Stu half-smiled. “Good. Because…”

  He trailed off, then.

  He trailed off because he’d seen the photograph at the side of the rucksack in the dirt.

  He could hear the group talking, maybe amongst themselves, maybe to him.

  He was too focused on the photograph.

  He picked it up, his hand shaking. It couldn’t be possible. It couldn’t be—

  “Stu? Everything okay?”

  He looked up at Alex. “What did you say the person you got this bag from was called again?”

  “Does it matter?”

  “Yes, it matters.”

  Alex scratched the back of his head. “Will, I think. Some nut job who was trying to find his wife. He’ll be lucky if he’s still alive. See Pete’s parka there? That was his too…”

  They continued speaking. But all Stu could do was look at this photograph.

  The family photograph of Will, Olivia—his daughter, who Kerry had told him so much about, his dog, Bouncer, and Kerry herself.

  Some nut job who was trying to find his wife.

  Trying to find his wife…

  He looked into Will’s eyes, and he felt his fingers tightening around the photograph.

  “Stu? Seriously, is something wrong?”

  Stu lifted his head up to Alex and smiled. “Not at all,” he said. “In fact, I think I’ve got the perfect initiation task for you.”

  He crumpled the photograph and imagined the sound of Will’s neck breaking.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Two days later, and I felt much better about everything.

  Sure, I was still cold. And yeah, I was still rough as shit. My throat was sore, and my chest was tight, but I’d be damned if I was stopping for anyone or anything.

  I’d never been more focused, and that’s because I realised now more than ever that I was on the right path. That I was doing what I had to do.

  I was getting closer to the industrial estate. I was getting closer to Kerry.

  Bouncer trailed alongside me. To be honest, he’d seemed a little out of sorts this last day. He hadn’t been drinking too much water when I’d gathered it for him, and he hadn’t really seemed interested in food, either. I hoped he wasn’t getting ill. Dogs couldn’t catch stuff from humans, right?

  My cold had pretty much receded, which was a massive relief. I’d stumbled upon some Olbas Oil in an abandoned tent, which helped clear my head. I know herbal remedies and decongestants could be hit and miss, sometimes legit, sometimes legit bullshit, but I felt better than I did yesterday, and the day before, so that was something.

  I’d managed to start a few fires too, which helped to dry my clothes and me. Of course, my clothes weren’t nice to wear no matter how dry they were right now. They’d been caked in mud. My shoes weren’t much better, making my feet blister with every step.

  But I was doing okay. I was pushing on. I was making progress.

  I looked up at the sky. It was the middle of the afternoon. I glanced down at my compass and made sure I was heading in the right direction. I’d been circling York, trying to figure out the best, safest way of entering its boundaries and reaching the industrial estate. Wherever Kerry was, an industrial estate on the outskirts of York somewhere spanned a much larger area than I’d perhaps been expecting or thinking of beforehand, and I hadn’t seen any signs signalling where it was, yet.

  But I’d made it this far. I could make it a little further.

  It was when I saw York in the distance that my stomach started to churn. I remembered when Kerry and I went there when she was pregnant with Olivia. I’d ended up stupidly taking Kerry on a walk up the side of a hill that ended up being too drenched to keep footing on. I’d spent the bulk of the holiday in the hospital by Kerry’s side, waiting nervously for news of the baby.

  But Olivia—as she was always known as, right from the beginning—was fine.

  Our little angel was fine.

  I stopped walking when I saw movement to my right.

  I crouched down and squinted into the distance.

  At the other side of the motorway, which I’d been trailing perhaps a little too closely, I saw someone walking. There was definitely someone there.

  I kept low. I needed to see where they were going. As much as I realised I had to communicate to some degree, I wasn’t exactly going to just start making friends with anyone and everyone.

  But when I lifted my head, the movement had stopped.

  Whoever was there, at the other side of the motorway, probably hiding behind the cars, was gone.

  “Come on, Bouncer. Probably better if we steer clear of the motorway.”

  I led Bouncer down the side of the motorway embankment, back into the trees. We walked a little further. But to be honest, I was unsettled. I kept on looking over my shoulder. It really felt like someone was following me, or watching me. It gave me the creeps.

  What gave me even bigger creeps was the cabin I ran into a few miles later.

  I stopped when I saw it. It was an old wooden place, covered in cobwebs. The windows were smashed. The door was wide open.

  Inside, I could see clothes. Stacks of canned food.

  And I could see weapons. Knives. Even a couple of air rifles.

  I stood there and stared at it for a few seconds, my heart racing. I couldn’t believe what I was looking at. It didn’t seem right.

  Something was very wrong about this.

  I looked around. I could hear birds singing and the wind rustling the fallen leaves. In front of me, my breath frosted. I was freezing as shit. I could really do with that coat in there.

  Maybe if I just took a few things.

  Maybe if I just stepped inside and saw what I could grab.

  I gritted my teeth. “Screw it. Not gonna get any better chance.”

  T
hen, I walked slowly towards the cabin, gradually picking up in speed as I approached it.

  I walked up the steps. I could smell the damp coming from inside. For a place so filled with supplies, it seemed like it had been uninhabited for a long time.

  I peeked my neck inside it, looked around. There was definitely no smell of people in here. No signs of life.

  I looked at the stacks of food and the equipment, and I felt like I was in heaven. Choosing just a few things from here wasn't going to be easy.

  I went to the coat first, though. As I pulled it on, I remembered what it was like to be warm again. Or at least, close to warm.

  Then I went over to the cans, and before gathering anything, human instinct kicked in. I opened the can of beans and poured half of them down my throat, no matter how cold and icy they were. Then I put the tin down and gave it to Bouncer to finish.

  I went over the weapons, then. Three air rifles. Part of me felt guilty about taking these away from someone. After all, they were just trying to get by, just like me.

  But shit.

  It was everyone for themselves in this world.

  I reached out to grab the gun.

  Before I got there, I heard the footsteps creak behind me, and I knew I wasn’t alone.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  I heard the footsteps creaking behind me, and I realised my discovery of this place really had been too good to be true.

  I saw the shadow growing as it filled the door, and my heart raced. Bouncer growled beside me. I didn’t know how many people there were, but this was no doubt some kind of setup. I’d been stupid to come in here in the first place. I should’ve realised that people didn’t just leave cabins filled with supplies lying around like this.

  It could be someone like Danny. Or worse…

  But… something told me this was different. The supplies on show were clearly from somewhere of a decent size. From a community.

  That made me wonder if this was something to do with the people running the place where my wife was imprisoned.

  I looked at Bouncer. I didn’t want to turn and look at my assailant. I didn’t want to see what I was up against. There were air rifles and knives in front of me, so I supposed I could use those. But would they be loaded? No chance. If this were a setup, they’d be empty.

  “You don’t move a muscle, fella,” the voice said. It sounded strong in its Yorkshire twang. “Or I’ll put a knife right through your back faster than you can scream.”

  I realised then that this man had given away a key piece of information about himself.

  I’ll put a knife right through your back…

  He’d admitted to having a knife.

  Which meant he didn’t have a gun.

  I turned around and looked at him.

  He had curly ginger hair, which flowed out from underneath a beanie cap. He looked well fed, confirming my suspicions that he was from somewhere that must be doing okay for itself.

  He looked into my eyes like I was something less than human. I could see movement behind him, too. I knew I didn’t have long.

  “You’re going to follow me out of this cabin, and we’re going to have a little chat, you and me.”

  “I don’t think that’s going to happen,” I said.

  The man smiled. “Oh, trust me. It is. There’s only one way this is ending. Whether it’s swift or painful for you… well, that depends on your next move.”

  I realised then what this man was talking about. I was going to die. It didn’t matter whether I cooperated or not, these people were planning on killing me.

  The man said something else.

  I didn’t hear it because I heard one of the people behind him mention “Stu”…

  My chest tightened, then. My throat tensed.

  I’d heard that name before. Stu. The man who’d been strangely near to Dumfries when we’d been out scouting, whose people I’d killed, had said that name.

  Stu.

  Was that the name of the person who ran Pilchard Industrial now?

  Was that the name of the man who had my wife?

  Regardless, these were people from the industrial complex. Somehow, he’d got wind that I was out there and found out who I was, and he’d sent some people to kill me.

  Which meant he was threatened.

  Which could only mean one thing.

  He was threatened because he feared what would happen if I found my wife.

  In a way, that gave me hope because it meant he had something worth fighting for.

  “So come on. Don’t resist. Don’t fight. Just come along with us, and we can make this as quick and painless as possible.”

  I glanced over to my right, over to the split wood on the side of the cabin.

  I gritted my teeth together.

  “Don’t get any ideas—”

  I was already running.

  I ran full pelt into the cabin wall. It was a gamble, and it might not do a thing. But shit. I didn’t have many other choices right now.

  The rotting wood crumbled when I hit it. It almost completely broke away, but it wasn’t quite there yet.

  I heard the footsteps of my pursuer getting closer beside me.

  I slammed against the wood again. But still, it didn’t completely break away.

  I felt dread build up inside me. Bouncer looked similarly scared.

  I was going to be stabbed to death, right here. This was it. This was the end.

  I pulled back once more, the man in the cabin just inches from me now. At the cabin door, I heard more footsteps run inside.

  One last chance to save myself.

  I pulled back, my shoulder in agony from slamming into this wall, and I pictured Olivia, Kerry, and Kesha, in my mind.

  I closed my eyes. Took a deep breath.

  Then I slammed into the wood.

  This time, the wood didn’t offer any resistance.

  I fell out of the side of the cabin. I lost my footing, twisting my ankle in the process, and landed face flat in the mud.

  But it didn’t matter because I’d made it.

  I was outside.

  I pulled Bouncer to his feet and looked over my shoulder. There were three people looking through the hole I’d formed in the side of the cabin. They looked disconcerted like they were concerned about the repercussions if I got away.

  I took pleasure in that for just a moment.

  And then I started running.

  I ran into the trees as fast as my dodgy ankle allowed. I gritted my teeth, pushing myself through the pain. Bouncer kept pace with me, but I could hear him panting too.

  I could still hear voices behind me, and it didn’t take me long to realise I was lost. I’d got disoriented while running away. Worse than that, I’d had the chance to grab a load of supplies, and I’d missed out.

  Part of me wanted to loop back around to that cabin, kill the men who were after me, and take those supplies.

  But I knew I couldn’t take a risk like that now, especially now I knew my wife was alive. At least, she had to be. Didn’t she?

  I stopped when I was certain I couldn’t hear anyone behind me. I put my hands on my knees, battling through a stitch in my chest. I took deep breaths into my nostrils, out through my mouth, and I thought about my family again.

  Then I heard a twig crack somewhere to my left.

  I crouched down right away, out of reaction more than anything. I held on to Bouncer in one hand, my knife in the other.

  “Please,” I whispered. “Please don’t make me have to do this. Please don’t make me have to do this.”

  I heard the twigs cracking even more. Someone was coming my way. And as much as I didn’t want to anymore, I knew I was going to have to do something about it.

  I took another deep breath and tightened my grip on the knife.

  When I looked up, there wasn’t someone there.

  There was a dog.

  Another dog. Another black Labrador. Just like Bouncer.

  The dog looked ema
ciated. Its ribs were on show. It looked like it’d been in a fight or two.

  But it was looking at me and Bouncer timidly, not aggressively.

  “Hey, girl,” I said, making an assumption based on the way the bitch took a piss. “You okay?”

  She tilted her head like she was trying to see.

  I held a hand out. “It’s okay. Bouncer’s a gent. Really. Come on over here. Let’s have a…”

  The dog did walk tentatively towards us. And I saw a name tag dangling from its collar. Rosie.

  But I was more interested in the thing on its back.

  The rucksack.

  I squinted when Rosie got close. I petted her, being sure not to look into her eyes for too long to disturb her.

  While she and Bouncer were sniffing at one another, I unzipped the rucksack and looked at the contents inside.

  When I saw what was in there, I couldn’t help smiling.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  A day later, I was still lost. I was still disoriented.

  But damn was I in a better state of affairs.

  Frost cracked underfoot, my breath steaming in the air as I exhaled. I was still cold, check. Still damp, obviously. But I wasn’t feeling so rough anymore—so being the operative, important word here.

  I was alive. I was as fit as I could be.

  And I had two dogs by my side. One of which—Rosie—had trotted up to me a day ago with a rucksack on her back, which was filled with energy bars and a flask of water.

  It was only something minor and finite. The energy bars wouldn’t last forever. But still, it was something. The flask and the matches came in handy, too. I’d boiled some rainwater using a naked flame and treated myself to the first relatively lukewarm cup of tea—sort of—thing in a long, long time.

  Amazing what a good cuppa could do to someone’s morale and spirits.

  I waded through the trees. I’d come close to the road a few times. Honestly, I’d thought I was closer to York than I evidently was. Obviously made a misjudgement with the junctions. But I knew right now I wasn’t far off. I was practically on its doorstep.