Darkness Falls

by A E Faulkner

  Wes releases a burst of laughter. It’s an amazing sound. “Look at this bod, man. Can you blame her?” Aidan approaches and starts asking Wes how he feels. I take that moment to secure us a bit of privacy.

  “Hey, Chris,” I say, my eyes never leaving Aidan. “How about you go help Jeff with Jasmine and Aidan can take over for you here?”

  “Alright,” he says as he starts toward the door. For reasons I’ll never understand, he seems to actually like Jasmine. And, I don’t think he cares much where he is, as long as he’s far away from any gun-wielding maniacs.

  As soon as Chris is gone, Aidan steps beside me. His eyes widen as they land on Wes’ skin. “So, what the hell, guys? What’s up with my back?” Wes asks.

  “Well, Wes, it seems you have a stowaway and he’s pretty nasty,” Aidan says. “You picked up a tick somewhere along the way and he’s given you a nice bulls-eye ring.”

  “So, that’s why the kid said I had a tattoo. Just swell. I probably have Lyme disease,” Wes huffs.

  Jeff appears at the open doors and starts climbing inside. “What’s this tattoo I’m hearing all about?” he asks. His playful eyes quickly turn serious when he reads our expressions. We step aside and Jeff peers under Wes’ shirt. He exhales and says, “Never seen one like that before.”

  While Jeff asks Wes some questions, Aidan pulls me aside and provides some background.

  Leaning in, Aidan speaks quietly, “Jeff used to run with the local fire department in high school. He was never an EMT, but he spent enough time with those guys that he picked up a few things. It’s not ideal, but it makes him the most qualified in this kind of situation.”

  “How’d it go with Jasmine?” I ask. I would have no idea what to do with a gunshot wound.

  “I’d say he did a pretty good job of patching her up,” Aidan says. “She took the bullet to her left shoulder just above her armpit. The bullet is still in her, but Jeff gave her pain medication and cleaned and bandaged the wound. Now we have to make sure it doesn’t get infected until we can get her real medical care.”

  Jeff helps Wes recline on the stretcher and spies the surroundings. Apparently, at some point, I knocked over Wes’ water bottle and totally forgot about getting him that second drink. Jeff grabs one and presents it to Wes. When his eyes land on the gauze patches I knocked on the floor earlier, he says, “Quinn, promise me you’ll never go to medical school. Or nursing school. Or basically follow any career path that involves taking care of sick or injured people.”

  Aidan laughs but attempts a recovery. “Don’t listen to him. You did just fine.” I swear I still hear amusement in his words.

  I roll my eyes and stifle an audible whatever. I’m just glad someone knows what he’s doing. Kind of, anyway.

  “Alright,” Jeff says. “The first thing I need to do is remove this bloodsucking bastard. Can you guys look for something like tweezers? There’s gotta be some instrument like that in here.”

  I jump at the chance to redeem myself. “I’ve got tweezers!” They both look at me like I just announced that I was a Victoria’s Secret model, mild amusement meeting disbelief. Ignoring them, I rush to my backpack and start digging inside. A moment later, I produce my sparkly silver tweezers.

  “Something in your bag actually came in handy,” Aidan mutters, smiling.

  “That’s right,” I respond. “You can thank my sculpted eyebrows for this!”

  Jeff locates alcohol and swabs the tweezers. Then he motions for us to help Wes sit up and lift his shirt. He deftly removes the tick, effortlessly. He reaches over us and grabs a plastic zip-lock bag, releasing the bug inside and sealing it.

  “Wow, Jeff,” I say. “I’m impressed. You made that look really easy.”

  “Well, we always had dogs growing up and you know, they’re kind of tick magnets,” Jeff explains. “I had lots of practice. And this was even easier because I didn’t have to dig through any fur to get to it. Good thing it wasn’t Aidan. Not sure I could have fought through that manly rug of hair on his back.”

  I bust out laughing and, for just a sliver of a moment, forget why we’re even here.

  Once both patients are stabilized, Jeff and Aidan step outside the ambulance for a breather. I visit the other ambulance, peeking in to see Jasmine asleep on her stretcher. Her face looks peaceful, as if the wound is already forgotten. Chris must have found a chair and dragged it over by the stretcher. He’s curled up on it, his left arm dangling off the side, fingers tangled in Jasmine’s hair.

  I turn my back on the tranquil scene inside and slowly close the ambulance doors, wincing at every creak. I join Aidan and Jeff only to find that their conversation ceases with my approach.

  “Hey, guys, what’s up?” I ask.

  “Well,” Aidan says, running a hand through his hair. “We’re thinking we should just stay put for the night. Sleep in the ambulances, lock the doors.”

  “But,” Jeff continues for him. “We need some supplies. There’s water in the rigs, but we could take this time to stock up on some more food.”

  “And we need a map. With this afternoon’s excitement, we kinda lost track of where we are,” Aidan adds.

  The guys look at me as if they’ve asked a question that I’m supposed to answer.

  “Okaaaaaay,” I say. “That sounds good.”

  They turn to each other, silently communicating. What the heck is with these two?

  “Guys, what is it?” I demand, losing my patience. “What are you sending to each other telepathically? Cuz I’m not tuned into your wavelength.”

  Rubbing his chin, Jeff answers. “Look, we need to figure out who’s making the supply run and who’s staying here. I think Aidan and I should go, and you should stay here.”

  I’m so tired, but the thought of Jasmine or Wes waking up and relying on me to help them is way too overwhelming. Plus, I don’t need two guys to do everything while I stay behind waiting patiently.

  “I think I’m more qualified to go on the supply run,” I say firmly, readying my stance for an argument.

  “Oh really,” Aidan says, crossing his arms. “And what are your qualifications?”

  “Well,” I start. “I can run really fast.” They both nod in agreement. “And I totally suck at taking care of sick people.” Again, they nod, but this time with more fervor.

  Jeff cracks a grin and says, “She’s got a good point. I mean, Jasmine and Wes are our friends. We owe it to them to not leave them in Quinn’s care.”

  Aidan laughs. “Alright, Quinn, looks like it’s you and me then. So, doc, anything in particular you need?”

  “Just a map and food, man,” Jeff answers. “I’ll take a Big Mac, large fries, and a large Coke.”

  “Noted,” Aidan mutters.

  Chapter 55

  Armed with mostly-empty backpacks, Aidan and I make our way deeper into town. We’re definitely out of the residential area now. At some point in our sleep-deprived haze the houses became businesses and sidewalks became city blocks.

  “So,” I start. “Where do you think we should try?” The streetlights are dark, the buildings unlit. This patch of civilization must have lost power. A few ornamental trees dot the sidewalks. Thankfully, their branches are somewhat sparse, so the moonlight spells out a clear path for us.

  “Check out that corner two blocks up,” Aidan says, pointing. “Is that a hospital?”

  The boxy building is all steel and glass. The contrasting sharp corners and the main entrance’s rounded overhang make for a dramatic structure. Soft lights shine dimly from inside. There must be a back-up generator churning away in there.

  “It’s way too nice for a hospital,” I mumble. As we near the first corner, a sign comes into view: Maritime Medical Center. I stop at the sight of movement through the top floor window. Pointing, I ask, “Aidan, what’s moving up there?”

  He stops and squints. “I think that’s a person.” Our questioning eyes slide toward each other. My next question tumbles out, “Do you think there might be a
doctor in there? Or someone with actual medical experience? I mean, beyond Jeff’s vast knowledge.” A smile plays across his lips.

  Our feet practically fly over the pavement as we dash toward the building. By the time we’re just a few yards before it, the soft glow inside illuminates an adult’s silhouette standing in the top stairwell like a guard. The stranger’s stance screams male and he’s clearly zeroed in on us.

  We slow our pace, carefully watching him, trying to gauge his reaction. When we’re standing almost directly below him on the sidewalk, the glint of his gun casts a minute reflection on the glass he stands behind. His eyes follow us as the hand holding the gun motions down the street as if saying “move it along.” His other hand holds a radio or walkie-talkie to his mouth. Clearly not interested in making friends.

  “Quinn, I think we should just keep going. Now,” Aidan says quietly. I nod quickly and we both instinctually lower our eyes and keep our heads down, as if we can just melt into the sidewalk.

  Aidan hooks an arm around mine and we walk briskly, like we have somewhere to be. He turns back a few times but doesn’t report what he sees. I face forward, allowing my eyes to bounce left and right as we pass storefronts and cafes that no longer welcome visitors.

  “Okay,” Aidan says. “Let’s think this through. People need food, water, shelter, and medicine. Where can we find food that hasn’t been overrun by anyone else yet?”

  He releases my arm as we distance ourselves from the medical center. We scan the buildings we pass, but thankfully, no one appears in any windows, which encourages us to relax a bit.

  My mind races to recall places that serve food that I would never want to eat. Mall food court. Nah, too many resources, people would probably flock there. Gas stations. They’re probably high on the hit list for looters.

  The farther we walk, the more retail and entertainment options appear. The cell phone store won’t be of much help. We pass a McDonalds and I question if we should check it out. That food has so many preservatives, it will probably outlast both of us. The smashed windows aren’t exactly inviting with their sharp jagged edges, so we continue past it.

  That’s when my eyes catch an interesting shape standing atop one of the buildings up ahead. A giant white bowling pin comes into view like a beacon. A bowling alley. That could be our ticket. What would anyone want at a bowling alley now? The ones I’ve been to always had snack bars, but it’s not the kind of place that I’d think about looting.

  “Bowling alley!” I practically shout, pointing toward the sign. Aidan stops mid-step, contemplating my idea.

  “I know I don’t say this often. I’ve actually never said it before, but Quinn, that’s a great idea!” He smiles, but I don’t acknowledge the backhanded compliment.

  We quickly scuttle toward the bowling alley, continuously scanning our surroundings for any potential threats. Thankfully, our trek to the entrance doors is uneventful. The glass double doors are intact, and the interior is dark. When this mess first started, I was afraid to leave the trailer when it was dark outside. In this moment, I feel safer in the darkness. If needed, we can dissolve into the shadows.

  “Okay,” I start. “We made it. Now, how are we going to get in there?”

  He motions for me to follow him as he runs behind the building. He stops momentarily for a quick examination of a side entrance. When we reach the back of the building, he tries the handle on another door, but of course, it’s locked. “That was your big idea? Hoping they left a door unlocked?” I ask.

  “Of course not,” he says, his eyes searching the small parking lot. Or maybe he’s avoiding eye contact. Doubt that he has any idea how we’re going to get inside this place swirls around in my mind.

  “Okay, maybe we should have sent Jeff on this mission,” I say. “He’s pretty handy with breaking and entering, you know?”

  “Hey,” Aidan says indignantly. “I’m handy, too.” His eyes focus on a beat-up vehicle resting on four flat tires. As he strides toward it, he continues his thought. “And I have a plan!”

  Chapter 56

  “You know what this is,” he asks, running a hand along the canary-yellow boat of a car. Shrugging my shoulders, I respond, “Some old junky car. Not sure how that’s going to help us.”

  Slowly shaking his head back and forth, he makes a tssssk sound. “Quinn, this is a Chevette. It’s so ancient that it actually has a stick antenna. You don’t see those anymore.”

  “Aaaaaaand,” I draw out. “Why do we need to know this?” I’m starting to lose my patience. We are supposed to be finding supplies, not admiring some ancient antenna.

  “I’ve got skills, Quinn,” he says with mock seriousness. “I’ll get us inside that bowling alley. I can MacGyver us a way in there.” I cross my arms and watch, still not understanding his strategy. The events of the day are wearing on me and my patience is dwindling.

  Aidan deftly unscrews the Chevette’s antenna, yanking it free from the wire hiding inside. His prize in hand, he strides around the building. I follow at a slight distance until he reaches the bowling alley’s side glass door.

  Positioning the thicker end of the antenna flat against the glass, he draws the ball back at a forty-five-degree angle aimed at the top right corner of the door. Stopping mid-movement, he throws a glance back at me.

  “Hey,” he starts sheepishly. “Why are geologists great comedians?”

  Rolling my eyes, I play along. “Why?”

  “Because they know all the dirty jokes!” His broad smile mingles with his words and a chuckle escapes me.

  Satisfied he’s relieved some of the tension emanating from me, he turns back toward the door and releases the ball. As it thwacks the glass, I step back a few paces, anticipating flying spears shooting toward me at any moment.

  My temporary fear evaporates when it appears that the antenna made no impact. He mumbles to himself as he pulls the ball back again, this time drawing it farther away from the door, the silver stick tensing as he stretches it.

  The ball shoots toward the door in one spring-loaded motion. My hope dissolves as the point of contact absorbs the impact without even a shudder. Huffing out a frustrated sigh, I turn on my heel to go search for a rock. Right about now I’m ready to pretend that door is Slim Jim and knock it into tomorrow.

  Raising my knee in mid-step, the slightest crackle reaches my ears. I spin around in time to see a lopsided, grapefruit-sized jagged hole where the antenna ball struck. A spiderweb of cracks snakes out from the point of impact. Aidan takes a step back, admiring his work; a moment later, the remaining glass spills to the ground.

  After the briefest moment of basking in our success, Aidan steps through the door, crunching on glass fragments. I follow close behind him. The bowling alley is shrouded in darkness. I bump into Aidan when he stops suddenly, tugging his backpack off one shoulder and digging into it. I mumble an apology as he holds up a flashlight.

  Sweeping the narrow beam of light across the large open area, we quickly locate the snack bar. Dashing behind the counter, we both shrug the packs off our backs and launch our search. Within minutes we collect bags of chips, candy bars, and hot dog buns.

  When I yank open the white refrigerator door, no light illuminates its contents. The hint of chilled air confirms that I’ve broken the seal on whatever cold the refrigerator was harboring since electricity last shot through its cord.

  Snatching a package of hot dogs, I don’t even bother checking for an expiration date. These things would have probably outlasted dinosaurs had they been invented back then. Skipping the moldy lunchmeat and cheese, any hopes I had of feasting on a wrap tonight dissolve.

  Attempting to find the perfect balance between everything we want to take with how much we can carry on our backs, Aidan sweeps the flashlight across the room one final time. Turning to me, he asks, “You ready?” I answer with a quick nod.

  As we step through the broken door, a steady thumping sound echoes above. Aidan pauses, powering off the flashlight. He si
lently raises a hand as if to say, “Hold up.” Peering over his shoulder, my eyes catch a spotlight dancing across the parking lot, waltzing its way toward us. My feet betray me when Aidan shoves me back into the bowling alley’s consuming darkness.

  Chapter 57

  Tripping over each other, we tumble in a tangle of limbs. In a roll-like maneuver, Aidan jumps to his feet and grabs my hand. Dragging me back behind the snack bar, we both slide to the floor just below the counter. We haven’t seen much of anything since we escaped the crazed man’s house. Who’s out there and what are they doing?

  The thudding sound grows louder. “What the heck’s going on?” I whisper, unsure if he’ll answer.

  “That’s a helicopter, flying awfully low,” he says. “But what are they looking for?”

  I shrug, realizing he can’t see that small movement in the dimness I add, “I don’t know, but I wanna get back to the others.” It comes out whiny, but this little scavenger mission is taking forever, and my mind is flooding with worry. “What if it lands?” I ask, wrapping my trembling hands around each other.

  “It won’t land here,” he says, too quickly to serve as genuine reassurance. After pausing for a moment, he continues, “Let’s just wait a few minutes and I bet it’ll move away.” We sit awkwardly, which seems to render time immobile. My thoughts wander to my family, wondering what my parents would do in this situation.

  A sudden raging curiosity washes through me, and before I can filter my thoughts, they seep out into words. “Have you talked to your family since all this happened?” I ask. Cloaked in the safety of darkness, any nervousness I might have felt for intruding is nonexistent.

  His first reaction is a sharp intake of breath. After a brief pause, he speaks slowly. “Right after the crash, we all called our parents. They told us to stay put. My dad was going to drive down and meet us to get the car fixed.”

  With a deep sigh, he continues. “That was before we all realized how bad the pileup was. When we found the campground, my dad said that sounded like a good place to hole up. He said he’d come down for us as soon as the roads were cleared.”