And Soon Comes the Darkness

by Angelique Archer

  “I’ll be alright,” she managed, shutting her eyes to conceal the pain.

  “Mom, we have to get you to a hospital.”

  Luella patted him on the shoulder weakly. “I just need some of my medicine. Don’t you worry about me,” she insisted reassuringly.

  Tenderly helping her onto the bed, Mitch pulled the blankets around her. “I’ll get them; hold on.”

  He ran to the bathroom and filled a cup with water, then opened the medicine cabinet. He grabbed multiple orange bottles, reading the labels impatiently until he found the right one.

  It was empty.

  His heart sank. Walking back to his mother, he handed her the cup of water and some expired ibuprofen. “This was all I could find. I’ll head over to Doc Burrough’s and see if I can get a refill. Mom, what were you thinking?” he scolded. “You aren’t supposed to do much moving around, especially when I’m not here.”

  But he couldn’t be mad at her. If he thought his life was rough, hers was much worse. She never left the house, she stayed in bed watching re-runs from dawn until dusk, and her diseased body made every day a living nightmare.

  “It’s alright. I’ll fix this.” He took the keys from his pocket and leaned down to give her a kiss on the cheek. “I love you, Mom.”

  ***

  Mitch stepped outside of his mother’s mobile home, paused on the first step, and sighed in relief as he tilted his face up toward the clear blue sky. Snowflakes landed softly on his skin, and he closed his eyes. He inhaled deeply, the mountain air refreshing and calming to his unraveled nerves.

  After gathering himself, Mitch stepped down and headed to Doc Burrough’s trailer.

  Wichita Springs was made up of a couple dozen mobile homes surrounding Mindy’s General Store and Diner at the center.

  The town was set up so that the only roads leading to it came from the north and south forming a circle around Mindy’s. Mitch’s mother’s trailer sat on the northern outskirts. The mine was located on the eastern side of Wichita Springs, separated from the town by a small lake. The Alvarado Mining Company was the only reason Wichita Springs was still on the map and was the primary source of employment to the townsfolk.

  Mitch made it to Doc Burrough’s trailer, one of the more expensive mobile homes in the town with a fancy sun room in the front where he hung plants of all varieties and kept Christmas lights up year-round.

  Business was good for Doc Burrough. Mitch knocked on the door, waited a second, and then let himself in per usual. Doc Burrough was often too busy creating his medicinal concoctions to notice the knocking at the door. Mitch rounded the corner of the spacious living room until he got to the master bedroom at the back of the trailer. The older man had converted the bedroom into his laboratory, providing the townsfolk with everything from painkillers to antibiotics, albeit in an unorthodox, illegal fashion. Medicine didn’t make its way into Wichita Springs easily as the town was so far removed, nestled between mountains.

  Mitch opened the master bedroom door and peeked inside.

  “In or out, keep the door closed! There’s a draft coming in!” Doc Burrough shouted.

  He had long, thin hair, the remaining strands that clung to his scalp combed back neatly. Atop his wide nose sat a pair of retractable bifocals. He looked up when Mitch neared his table.

  “Afternoon, kid. What’s going on?” he asked, hunching over multiple vials before filling them with a powdery substance. The lab looked like something out of a drug dealer’s house with burners and beakers everywhere and a centrifuge in the back of the room. But the medicine produced was of the same caliber and quality one would get from a legitimate pharmacy for a fraction of the cost. As rough and tough as Doc Burrough pretended to be, two things kept him making medicine for Wichita Springs: his love of chemistry and his genuine desire to help the people of the town.

  “Mom needs more of those pain pills you gave her,” Mitch said as he removed the orange pill container from his pocket and handed it to Doc Burrough who took it from him and examined it closely.

  He read the contents and then looked at Mitch sternly, wagging his finger at him. “You’d better not be taking your mother’s medication, son. This is serious stuff.”

  “Come on, Doc. You know I’m clean,” Mitch replied, taking a seat next to him at the table.

  Doc Burroughs stopped mixing the liquids and powders for a moment and studied him. “You’re a good kid looking out for your mama like this.”

  Mitch rubbed his eyes tiredly, dark circles rimming them. “Yeah, well… what the hell else would she do? Can’t afford to send her to a proper home.”

  Doc Burrough removed his glasses and set them on the table before taking off his gloves. “You’re doing just fine. You need me to pay her a visit, check up on her?”

  “Maybe. She took a nasty fall today. I’m worried she broke something. She needs someone with her regularly.” He sighed. “I feel like a shitty son. All she does is watch TV while I work. All day, every day. At least if she was at an old folks’ home, they’d have activities and stuff for her to do. She wouldn’t just be rotting away in her bed.” Mitch felt angry that he couldn’t give her more and folded his hands tightly together, trying to rein in his emotions.

  “We don’t have those kind of luxuries here, boy. What we do have is each other. We’re all like family.” He patted Mitch’s leg. “You sacrificed a lot staying here for her. You could have left Wichita Springs and made something of yourself before she fell ill. You’re a good son,” he reiterated again. He rose to his feet and fiddled around in his cabinets before filling the orange pill container Mitch had given him. “Here you go, kid. Let me know if you want me to check on her. Remember, we’re all family here.”

  Mitch took the pills from him and pulled out his wallet, but Doc Burrough held up his hands. “No charge this time. Consider it a Christmas present.”

  The younger man grunted. “If I never hear about Christmas again, it’ll be too soon.”

  After thanking him, Mitch went back to Luella’s trailer, placed a couple pills beside her on the nightstand, and grabbed his keys. He loved his mother, but sometimes he felt like his devotion to her was a ball and chain on his life.

  He hopped into the truck, and as the last beams of sunlight began to fall beneath the horizon, decided to go to Mindy’s General Store and Diner to get something for himself.

  Chapter III

  THE VALLEY OF ASH AND SHADOWS

  D rip.

  Drip.

  His hands desperately gripped at the gaping wound on his throat as he trudged beyond the entrance of the mine. Blood seeped around his fingers, past his fingertips, and onto the snow below.

  He took another step forward, feeling the ground sway beneath him, watching as the landscape blurred and then came back into focus.

  There were deep gashes on his left leg, just missing the femoral artery. He had managed to tie his belt around his thigh, but he’d been too weak to make an effective tourniquet. As a result, blood trailed down his shredded flesh in thin rivulets and had soaked his shoe so much that each step he took left behind a bloody footprint.

  He thought of his children and his wife at home in Wichita Springs. He had to make it back to them.

  The man had barely escaped with his life. It was only when he hid under his friend’s corpse that he’d managed to hide from them.

  Neither man nor animal had attacked him. They were not of this world. He had watched from his hiding place as they’d ripped apart the men in the mine, viciously cutting and slicing at them. The demons were evil in its basest form.

  The man turned his head suddenly, but the movement was too fast. He cried out as the flesh on his throat tore a little more, but he gritted his teeth and strained to listen.

  The rumble was low and deep. It was the engine of a vehicle.

  When he saw a truck round the bend of the road up ahead, he raised one hand away from his throat and tried to wave. Blood poured freely from where his fingers had just bee
n, but he had to try to flag down the driver.

  “Help,” he gurgled, partially choking on his blood.

  A male and a female were inside the vehicle. For a moment, it seemed as though the female was looking right at him.

  The couple was his only shot at survival. Between the cold and the loss of blood, he would not last much longer.

  ***

  Mitch pulled into Mindy’s General Store and Diner, the welcoming Christmas lights in the windows another reminder of the holiday he didn’t care to celebrate. It made him think about the time of year when he lost his father.

  There were two other cars in the gravel lot. He stepped out, his boots crunching in the snow as he made his way to the entrance and opened the door.

  Mindy sat at the register island that separated the general store from the diner. She greeted him with a smile and a wave, which Mitch half-heartedly returned.

  Mindy was in her forties, plump with light blonde hair that fell just below her shoulders. She had been running the establishment for nearly two decades, and as it was the only brick and mortar store in Wichita Springs, Mindy was probably the wealthiest person in town. She was also one of the most generous and had on several occasions sent Mitch home with a free to-go box of dinner for his mother.

  “Hey, Mitchell! How’s it going, sweetie?”

  There wasn’t much variety in the store, but there was one aisle that always had the answers to all of his problems.

  Grunting, he replied, “Just got Mom’s medicine.” He held up a bottle of Jack Daniels. “Now getting some of my own,” he quipped.

  Mindy’s smile faded. “Now, Mitchell, I only got a couple rules here. And one of them is that I don’t sell alcohol on the Lord’s day.”

  Mitch looked at her in confusion.

  “It’s Sunday,” she explained. “I don’t deviate from my rules. You know this.”

  Mitch put the bottle back on the shelf. With anyone else, he would have protested and maybe thrown an expletive or two into the argument. But Mindy was one of the few people he respected, and even if her faith was a nuisance right now, deep down he admired her for sticking to her principles.

  She stood up and went over to the diner side and grabbed a plate from behind the counter. There was an assortment of cakes and pies in a display case. She took a knife and cut a big slice of chocolate cake. Then she reached above the display for a to-go box and included another slice.

  “Come here and talk to me for a sec. I’ve been meaning to bring you and your mom a couple casseroles.”

  Mitch went to a table in front of a window, but didn’t sit down. “Yeah, she’s not doing so well. She had a bad fall today. Found her when I got home from work.”

  She sat the plate in front of him and placed her hand against her heart in genuine concern. “Oh, no, sweetie, I’m sorry to hear that!” Trying to cheer him up, she added, “What did you buy her for Christmas? Please tell me you didn’t get her one of those plastic snow globes from the gas station. Those things are just plain tacky.”

  He shook his head and reached for the slice of cake, taking a hearty bite. “I haven’t gotten that far yet. But I have one more day to find her something.”

  Just then, cold air whooshed into the store as the door was flung open unexpectedly. Mindy and Mitch turned around in unison, and Mitch involuntarily dropped his fork. It clanged noisily against the tile floor, and he scooped it up in embarrassment.

  A young woman was there at the entrance, her pale blue eyes anxiously scanning the diner.

  “Oh, it’s the new girl,” Mindy whispered to him, before going over to the stranger. “Olivia, honey, what can I do for you tonight?”

  Olivia.

  What a beautiful name for a beautiful girl, Mitch thought.

  “Ms. Harrison, I told you, you can call me Olive.” She hurriedly made her way further into the diner to get an unobstructed view of some of the tables in the corner.

  “What are you lookin’ for, sweetie?”

  Olive pushed back the fur hood of her jacket, revealing long, dark brown hair. “Have you seen my dad recently?”

  “Unfortunately, it’s been pretty quiet in here the last couple days. Your dad and the others from the mine are my best customers, but they must be workin’ them hard lately because I haven’t seen hide nor hair of them,” Mindy responded in disappointment. “And to think it’s nearly Christmas. That foreman should be ashamed of himself knowing his workers have families waitin’ on them to celebrate the holiday. It’s downright pitiful. They should be ashamed,” she repeated, clucking her tongue in disapproval as she walked behind the counter and into the kitchen to clean off Mitch’s plate.

  Mitch and Olive stood there awkwardly, and he stared at his feet until finally mustering up the courage to clear his throat and break the silence.

  “Hey,” he started. “Um… my name’s Mitch. Is there anything I can do?”

  Olive narrowed her eyes at him then turned away to search the store next to the diner.

  Mindy made eye contact with Javier, the lone cook, and shook her head in amusement. “Young love is adorable. Bless them,” she murmured, putting her hand over her heart again in true Mindy fashion. Javier smirked and went back to sweeping the kitchen.

  “I can… um… I can help,” Mitch began again. “I have my truck in the lot. We can cover more ground,” he offered.

  Olive strode by him, standoffishly ignoring the comments.

  “Olive is new in town,” Mindy announced. “She just moved to Wichita Springs from Indiana to live with her dad, Gareth. How’s about that?”

  “Oh, Old Man Hayes?” When he looked at Olive, she was staring at him scathingly. Mitch mentally chastised himself, realizing he’d said the wrong thing.

  Olive ran her hands through her hair, stress radiating from her body language, and she ground her jaw and shut her eyes. She pressed her fingers to her temples to try to think of what to do next.

  “You okay?” Mitch asked her, concern in his eyes.

  “I just need to find my dad,” she whispered, but her tone was icy.

  Mitch rubbed the back of his neck and looked away. “I know what that feels like. I lost my dad a long time ago.”

  Olive stopped pacing for a moment. “I’m sorry.”

  Then just as quickly, she went to the entrance and pushed the door open.

  Mindy handed Mitch the to-go box for his mother. “Hon, you should let Mitch help you.” When Olive looked at her skeptically, Mindy explained, “He’s one of the few gentlemen left—stayed here in Wichita Springs to take care of his mom. You’re in good hands with him.”

  Olive’s expression hardened. “I don’t need help. I can do it by myself.”

  Mindy gave her a sympathetic, but disbelieving once-over. “Girl, it is going to be nightfall pretty soon, and those temperatures will drastically drop. You don’t have a car; what are you going to do?” She gestured to Mitch. “Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth… especially when the gift horse looks like him.” Raising an eyebrow and glancing in Mitch’s direction, Mindy turned around and headed back to the kitchen.

  Once again, they were left alone to suffer in uncomfortable silence.

  Mitch put his hands in his pockets, still blushing from Mindy’s compliment.

  Olive did the same and pretended to be fixated with a water stain on the ceiling.

  “I can at least give you a ride home,” Mitch proposed at last.

  Much to his surprise, Olive nodded in acquiescence.

  They walked to his truck, and Mitch opened the door for her.

  Once inside, Mitch blasted the heat. “Is that warm enough for you?” he asked after the heat filled the cab.

  “Yeah, it’s fine,” Olive answered quietly. “I’m Olivia. But my friends and family call me Olive. I hate the name Olivia.” She sank into her coat, pulling the hood up further than necessary to hide her face.

  Shrugging, Mitch replied, “I think Olivia is a nice name. Sounds fancy.”

  She g
runted. “Well, I am definitely not that.”

  Mitch found Olive to have a unique beauty about her, but kept his thoughts to himself.

  He drove onto the main road that led south toward the mobile home where Gareth Hayes lived. He knew it well. It wasn’t far from Doc Burrough.

  Olive stared out the window, silently watching the landscape pass by in a blur.

  “How do you like Wichita Springs? I bet it doesn’t hold a candle to Indiana.”

  She pushed her hood back and gaped at him incredulously. “I hated Indiana. I couldn’t wait to leave. At least here nobody knows me, and I can start over.” She bit her lip realizing she’d revealed too much.

  Mitch chuckled. “See, it’s different for me. Everybody knows your business, and the best thing Wichita Springs has is Mindy’s. I can’t wrap my head around the notion that this is as good as it gets.”

  “Have you never left this place?”

  He lowered his head in embarrassment and eventually took a deep breath. “Can’t.”

  Olive stared out the window again. “Your mom?”

  He gripped the steering wheel tightly. “Yup.”

  Suddenly Olive sat straight up. “Did you see that?” She strained to turn in her seat, but her hood was so big and puffy that she couldn’t see around it.

  “See what?”

  Olive cleared some of the fog from the window with her hand. “There was a man in the snow. He was moving so slow, like a zombie or something.”

  Mitch scrunched his eyebrows together. “No one would be out in this. Too damn cold.”

  She rolled her eyes in annoyance. “I know what I saw. Turn around.”

  Without any objection, Mitch slowed the truck to the side of the road and made a U-turn.

  Both of them studied their surroundings intently.

  “I don’t see anything.”

  Olive sighed in frustration. “I’m telling you. He was there.”

  After driving back and forth down the road a few times, they gave up and headed south again to Olive’s home.

  When he pulled in front of the trailer, Olive hopped out and lingered beside the open door of the truck.