Dark Days | Book 8 | Avalon

by Lukens, Mark

  The noise behind them was a little louder. Someone was definitely coming their way.

  Gerald made a small whimpering sound; he’d heard the noises behind them too. Ray wanted to whisper not to turn on the light—they weren’t too far away from the lab door now.

  The sounds were getting closer. Josh and Emma had to have heard them. There was no mistaking it for imagination now; the rippers, at least a few of them, had been waiting in the darkness, waiting for their prey to come out and reveal themselves. They’d heard them, figured out where they were, and now they were sneaking up on them.

  Gerald was breathing harder and harder, making that whining sound deep in his throat again. He clicked Josh’s flashlight on, turning around, his rifle in one hand as he shined the light behind him, down the wide hallway.

  Ray just had time to get the word “No” out, but it was too late.

  Gerald screamed as he shined the flashlight, illuminating the hallway just behind them. Two male rippers materialized from the darkness, knives in their grungy hands, the light winking off the sharp blades, off their wet, wild eyes, their mouths open in a snarl as they attacked Gerald, who tried to get a shot off, pulling the trigger, the shot going wild, the booming sound echoing up and down the hallway.

  The other rippers would hear it and come running.

  Ray turned his flashlight on, shining it at Gerald first. Gerald had dropped his flashlight as he tried to get both hands on his rifle, but the rippers were on him too quickly, tackling him, one of them stabbing the knife into Gerald’s arms, slicing at him, ripping cloth and then flesh underneath, severing muscle, nerves, tendons. Gerald dropped the rifle, screaming as he fell to the floor under the weight of the two rippers.

  “Go!” Ray yelled, shining his flashlight forward. A few dead bodies lay ahead of them, but not as many as Ray had remembered. Maybe some of them had only been injured, or maybe some had been playing dead. A ripper emerged from the dining hall doorway. Ray shot at him and the ripper ducked back in.

  Emma was still moving down the hallway, her cane flicking back and forth in front of her now that she didn’t have to worry about making noise. Josh had let Emma go so he could keep both hands on the M-16, trying to aim it, but Ray’s light was erratic, bouncing around as he tried to shine it everywhere at once.

  “Dad! Josh! Emma! Come on!”

  It was Mike. Oh God, Mike was out in the hall. What was he doing out in the hall?

  Another ripper, or maybe the same one, poked his head out of the dining room hallway again. Josh was about to shoot, but Ray’s light was still too unsteady.

  Another light shined diagonally from across the hall. A gunshot sounded a second later. The ripper was knocked back against the wall, blood exploding from a bullet wound in his face. He slid down to the floor.

  Mike had shot the ripper. He stood in the doorway to the lab with his flashlight shining.

  They were so close to the lab door now, so close to Mike.

  Gerald kept screaming from behind them.

  Mike kept his flashlight on, guiding Josh and Emma toward him. He stayed in the doorway, keeping the door open so it wouldn’t lock on him.

  Ray looked behind him, shining his flashlight down the hallway. One ripper was still on top of Gerald, both of them on the floor. Gerald’s rifle and flashlight were out of reach. The other ripper was charging. Ray shot the ripper three times, finally knocking him down.

  Emma got into the lab first, and then Josh was there, guarding the door as Mike held it open. Josh hadn’t shot the M-16 yet, and Ray was thankful about that, afraid one of the bullets from the machine gun fire might hit him. He was at the door a second later, his flashlight a sphere of light in this world of utter darkness.

  More rippers were coming from different areas of Avalon. They had spread out too far, but they would be back in the main hallway in seconds.

  Josh hurried inside the door. Ray was right behind him. Mike closed the door. Ray shined his light down at the doorknob, wondering if it had a lock on it.

  There was no lock.

  The rippers were at the door, jigging the doorknob, pounding and beating at the door, screeching in rage and frustration. The door held. It was locked.

  Ray turned and hugged Mike, holding onto him tightly, tears slipping out of his eyes, his throat raw. “You did great, Mike. So great. So proud of you.”

  Mike pulled away, jittery with adrenaline. He beamed in the flashlight’s glow. “I fell out of the ceiling.” He aimed his own flashlight up at the hole in the ceiling above a desk, pieces of the drop ceiling all over the desk and the floor.

  “You did awesome, buddy,” Josh said. He held Emma, holding her close. She was smiling at Mike, nodding in agreement.

  “We’re safe now,” Emma said.

  Yeah, for the moment, Ray thought. But what were they going to do now?

  CHAPTER 55

  Luke

  Luke had rested inside the house for only a few minutes. He’d shot four of the rippers when he had escaped Hell Town, getting lost in the fog of the smoke from the fires, getting away from the rest of the rippers. He’d gotten into the first house he’d come to, getting in through a busted window. He had crouched down inside the house, gun in hand, waiting for the rippers to come.

  While he rested, he watched and waited for rippers. He knew some might be coming from any direction, but quite a few had run east, out toward a gas station where the town thinned out, roads leading to more rural areas.

  For a moment he wasn’t sure of where to go. He’d come here with Max, Phil, and Dawson. Max was dead, and he was fairly sure the other two were dead too. Petra, the woman Max had come for and the woman he’d seen in his dreams was dead too—Jacob had told him that.

  So what now? Head back to the store? Ray, Josh, Mike, and Emma were gone—they’d gone to look for Avalon. Had they found the place, or were they dead somewhere? Should he go look for them instead of going back to the store? He had no idea where Avalon was; all he knew was a road where he’d left Ray and the others led south into Georgia.

  Maybe it would be better to go back to the store. If Ray and the others found Avalon, maybe they’d be back to the store eventually to get Jo and the others. Some of the Dark Angels had escaped Hell Town as it began to burn and the rippers stormed—maybe they’d gone to the store, their last place of refuge, the last place to find food and supplies.

  Or maybe he should just head south, go to Florida: his original plan when the Collapse first started. He’d find some small and remote island down in the Keys, a boat, fishing gear. He’d be alone again. Maybe that’s how it should be; maybe that’s what he deserved.

  While he waited by the window, he assessed his injuries. Jacob had beaten him up pretty badly, but none of the wounds limited him physically or were life-threatening. His leg was sore, his knee swollen a little, the pants tight around it, but he could put weight on it and walk okay, run if he had to. He had his handgun, one hand grenade left, a few energy bars stuffed down into his pants pockets, one extra magazine with bullets in it. He’d lost his pack somewhere along the way—he couldn’t remember exactly when.

  He decided he’d head out toward the gas station, and then the woods beyond that, following the road that led east, but he would stay in the trees while he traveled. It would be dangerous, but staying here in this house wasn’t any less dangerous. There were a lot of rippers running around; it would only be a matter of time before they got into this place, before they overwhelmed him. He could only shoot so many before he ran out of bullets.

  After eating one of the two energy bars he had left, he checked his gun and then moved to the back of the house, slipping out the back door into a cluttered backyard with overgrown grass and weeds that had turned brown from the winter. He moved among the hulking cars and skeletal, rusted metal pieces, getting to some brush and waiting for a moment.

  It took a few minutes to get to the gas station, but he was walking slowly, taking his time. The rippers were still loud, man
y still running by, running away from the fires.

  When the coast was as clear as it could be, Luke bolted across the intersection where a traffic light dangled on thick wires. The haze of smoke was heavy in the air, but not heavy enough to hide him completely from other eyes. He got across the street and slammed into a wall of the end business in a one-story strip plaza. He waited, catching his breath, then he moved down the front of the stores, creeping past busted-out windows and doors. Beyond the stores, the woods began, the two-lane road disappearing down into a valley, then reappearing up a hill in the distance.

  He felt a little better when he was away from the buildings and at the edge of the woods. His knee still hurt, but it was actually feeling a little better the more he walked on it. He came to a side road off of the two-lane road, a dirt road leading into a vast field. He waited by the trees.

  A noise . . . a vehicle was approaching.

  Luke crouched down by the tree, his gun in his hand. He waited. Probably Dark Angels.

  The large black pickup slowed down and then stopped at the turnoff onto the dirt road, the motor rumbling. The passenger window slid down as the truck waited there, like the driver was trying to decide which way to go. There was no one in the back of the pickup, and from what Luke could see, only the driver occupied the truck. It looked like a woman.

  Luke stood up and approached the truck, his gun aimed at the driver as he walked toward the passenger door.

  The truck didn’t speed away.

  As Luke got closer he recognized the woman—it was Petra, the woman he’d seen in his dream when Wilma had gone away.

  “Petra,” Luke said when he got to the window, lowering his gun down to his side.

  She stared at him, her hands on the steering wheel, one of them bandaged with bloodstained gauze and tape. She looked weary and even angry, but not afraid.

  “I’m Luke. I came with Max to get you.”

  “Get in.”

  Luke holstered his gun inside his hoodie and got in the truck. He closed the door but left the window rolled down.

  “There’s a field out there,” she said, staring past him out the open window. “They killed people there. Hung them so the rippers could tear them apart.”

  Luke didn’t say anything.

  “The rack in the field was Jacob’s idea,” she added.

  “Jacob’s dead.”

  She finally looked at him, focusing on him, like she was finally seeing him for the first time. “You killed him?”

  “Yep.”

  “The Dragon’s dead.”

  “You killed him?”

  “Yep.”

  Luke was quiet again.

  Petra shifted into drive and rolled up the passenger window. She drove down the two-lane road, heading east. Luke figured she was going back to the store, but taking a roundabout way to avoid the rippers and any Dark Angels that were escaping Hell Town.

  Luke didn’t say anything. He got the feeling that Petra didn’t feel like talking, and that was fine with him for now.

  As they drove, Luke fell asleep. He didn’t want to sleep—he tried his best to fight it—but a dreamless sleep overtook him.

  He didn’t know how long he’d been out, how long they had traveled, but Petra’s words pulled him roughly out of slumber.

  “Dark Angels.”

  Luke sat up stiffly, staring out through the windshield at the road in front of them. Two vehicles had just driven out of the sides of the roads, blocking their way. Two more trucks had pulled up behind them, blocking them in.

  CHAPTER 56

  Luke

  Luke had his gun out in a flash, ready to shoot, ready to fight to the death if he had to. He was sure Petra was ready too.

  A man stepped out of the truck in front of them, raising his hands up high in the air, waiting by the vehicle, staring at them.

  “It’s Dawson,” Petra said.

  “You know him?” Luke asked her.

  “He was there when Scott and Audrey were killed in that field where I stopped,” Petra explained. “He was in the back of the truck with me. He said he was leaving the Dragon, him and some others. He told me they would come back for me.”

  “They did,” Luke said. “I was with him.”

  Petra didn’t say anything. Luke could see that she trusted Dawson somewhat. Luke knew he should trust the man too, but he still wasn’t too sure about him.

  Petra put the truck in park, leaving the engine running.

  “What are you doing?” Luke asked.

  “Getting out. He seems like he wants to talk to us.” She didn’t wait for an argument from him, or for any kind of permission—she opened her door and got out, the pickup still running.

  Luke got out too. He still had his gun in his hand. He could feel eyes and weapons on him at that moment. He walked with Petra, meeting Dawson halfway between her truck and the two vehicles that had blocked the road. It was quiet here, no other sounds except the rumbling motors of the trucks.

  Dawson glanced from Luke to Petra and back to Luke again. “You made it,” he said with a tentative smile.

  “Who’s with you?” Luke asked, glancing beyond him at the van and the pickup truck blocking the road.

  “A few Dark Angels,” Dawson admitted. “But mostly the townspeople. They never wanted to be with the Dragon, none of them did. Now that Hell Town is gone, they’re ready to be on their own. I told them about you, about your store. They want to join. They want to help.”

  Luke wanted to tell Dawson that everyone always had a choice, but he didn’t. “Is Phil with you?”

  “No.”

  “Max is dead,” Luke said.

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” Dawson replied, nodding and looking grim.

  “The Dragon’s dead,” Petra said. “I killed him.”

  Dawson stared at Petra, shocked for just a moment. “You’re sure he’s dead?”

  “Pretty damn sure. I beat his face in with a tire iron.”

  Luke was really beginning to like this woman.

  “Luke killed Jacob too,” Petra added.

  “The town is burning,” Luke said. “It’s over as long as the Dark Angels don’t get together again.”

  “Nobody wants to be a Dark Angel anymore,” Dawson said. “Nobody wants to wear a brand or get tortured or killed for disobeying an order. We just want to be free. We just want to help. There aren’t that many of us, but . . .” He shrugged and suddenly looked weak and weary. “But maybe it’s a start.”

  “What were you doing here?” Petra asked. “Hiding? If you wanted to get back to the store, why aren’t you there now?”

  “We’re not too far from Perry,” Dawson said.

  Petra nodded impatiently like she already knew that.

  “We’ve already been to the store,” Dawson said. “Earlier today. We couldn’t get near it. The store’s overrun with rippers. They must’ve gotten inside the building.”

  “Shit,” Luke whispered.

  “But it looks like some of the people inside survived. Most of them probably. They’re all up on the roof. I saw them through a pair of binoculars.”

  “They see you?” Luke asked.

  Dawson shook his head. “I don’t think so. We couldn’t get close enough.”

  All that food inside the store, Luke thought. All those supplies. Most of it gone now. But at least Jo and the others were okay for now. And Ray and the others wouldn’t have gotten back from Avalon by now, so there was still a chance they were still alive too.

  “We need to get them,” Petra said, leaving no room for an argument.

  Dawson nodded. “We’ve got a place we’ve been hiding our vehicles. It’s just down this side road back there.” He hitched a thumb behind him at the vehicles like they could see the side road from where they stood. “We’ll have to go a few miles to get to the store, to get close enough.”

  *

  Thirty minutes later they had driven as close to the store as they could, almost a mile away, idling the vehicles
forward, hiding them among some buildings and brush.

  Dawson and a friend of his, a Dark Angel named Martin, led Luke and Petra on foot behind some brush to an abandoned fast food restaurant. A metal ladder led up to the roof. They climbed the ladder quickly. Martin kept watch as Dawson, Luke, and Petra crept to the other side of the roof. They all lay down, each taking turns watching the building through Dawson’s binoculars.

  When Luke looked through the binoculars, he saw Jo on the roof. He saw Gil next to her. He saw Kate and Brooke. The doc. He saw other people that he recognized, but he didn’t know their names.

  “We need some communication with them,” Luke said after lowering the binoculars. He glanced up at the cold, blue afternoon sky. A few wispy clouds drifted by. “How about a walkie? Jo’s got one. We could find the right channel to talk.”

  Dawson shook his head. “We don’t have a walkie.”

  “We can’t just drive up there, a convoy of trucks,” Luke said. “Jo and the others will think we’re Dark Angels coming to attack them. They’ll start shooting at us. I see plenty of spotters with rifles up there.”

  “I know,” Dawson said.

  “How about a bullhorn?” Petra asked. “We could shout at her, let her know it’s us.”

  “A bullhorn will just bring the rippers over here to us,” Luke said, staring through the binoculars again, panning down to the parking lot. There weren’t a lot of rippers at the front of the store, but there were quite a few at the back of the store, in the fenced-in area. They were going in and out of the woods from somewhere in back of the store, somewhere he couldn’t see from this vantage point. Obviously they had breached the fence somewhere in back. Maybe the fence wasn’t even electrified anymore, but the gate at the side of the store was still locked, still standing.

  “We don’t have a bullhorn, anyway,” Dawson said.

  Luke glared at Dawson, setting his binoculars down again.

  “We had to leave in a hurry, just jumping into trucks,” Dawson said like Luke had criticized him. “It wasn’t like we had a lot of time to plan things out.”