Into the Dark of the Day (Action of Purpose, 2)

by Stu Jones

  “Are you serious?” Garrett was almost yelling. “You want to mess with the Coyotes?”

  “Look, they’re the real deal, and they have serious firepower—firepower we could use. To ally with them would ensure our survival.”

  “You’ve lost it. If you’ve heard what I have, then you know they’re nothing more than bloodthirsty killers. They’ll murder us all and steal what we have before they’ll have anything to do with us. I’ve even heard their leader is possessed or something. There’s no way we’re dealing with them.”

  Saxon lunged at Garrett, yelling in his face. “They’re either our allies or our enemies, and they aren’t enemies we want to take on. I don’t need your permission!”

  “Yes, you do! As long as you want to stay here, you do!” Garrett met Saxon nose to nose, spitting with the effort of speaking each word.

  Maybe they’d kill each other. If they did, Susan’s life certainly would improve—at least it wouldn’t get any worse. She turned her thoughts back to the problem at hand. Her problem. How in the world would she and the children be able to get out of here to locate Kane? She was something of an indentured servant, and she definitely wasn’t free to just go. Garrett viewed her as his property, property to be summoned at his beck and call. She had to do something, for her sake and for the sake of the children.

  It seemed so impossible, so ridiculous that Kane should be alive, especially given the condition of his heart. But it was true. She had heard his voice over the radio broadcast from the coast of South Carolina. The realization brought with it a truckload of emotions: hope, fear, love, doubt, strength, and shame. Shame at what she’d had to do so that she and her children could survive. If she saw Kane again, would he ever understand? It was a question that haunted her more than his death ever had.

  Maybe she was delusional. Maybe there wasn’t any real chance that she’d get through, but she had to try to get out. She would wait until nightfall when there were fewer people moving about camp. Then she would make her move and pray that no one noticed her.

  The dark trees appeared twisted against one another, eerily hunched, as the thick ash fell in clumps across the alien landscape. The land appeared backlit by the distant fires, always burning. Kane stretched his arms out in front of him, grasping at nothing. In the darkness, he struggled to comprehend his surroundings as the shadows laughed at his confusion.

  Kane wiped a clump of ash from his forehead, and it smeared across his face like silver war paint. He rubbed the remnants of the ash between his fingers as he listened to the many distant cries in the darkness. As he began to walk, he squinted his eyes at the dancing shadows, his boots leaving perfect impressions on the ashen forest floor.

  A man, a woman, and a small boy appeared ahead of him, walking toward the distant fires. It was Jeff, the man who had been exiled with his family the day before.

  “Jeff!” Kane called out to the group. “Hey, Jeff!”

  They continued to walk away, oblivious to his calls.

  “Jeff! Jeff, I’m sorry!” Kane yelled, as he watched the family catch fire at the edge of the trees. Kane gasped as he heard their cries and watched them fold and wither into ash before his eyes.

  “I’m…I’m so sorry,” he said, the weight of responsibility heavy across his brow.

  “Kane! Help us!” came a shrill cry in the distance.

  “What? Susan?” Kane looked about, desperate. “I can’t see you, sweetie. Where are you?”

  The sound of muffled cries in the darkness brought Kane to a jog as he moved toward his wife’s voice.

  “Susan, just tell me where you are.”

  “Help us, Kane. We need you. Why haven’t you come?”

  “I…Where are you? I can’t find you.”

  “Kane,” came another voice, this one close by.

  Kane spun in surprise to see the shadowed form of a woman. His heart beat faster. “Susan?”

  The woman came closer, and he began to distinguish her face among the drifting shadows. “No, Kane,” she replied. “It’s me.”

  “Molly?” he whispered.

  “Who are you looking for, Kane? Why are you in this place?”

  “My wife, my children…You said…”

  “They are alive, but because inability to stay true to your purpose, they will die.”

  “No,” he blurted out.

  “Yes, Kane. You will get them killed, just like you got me killed.”

  A gasp caught in his throat. “Molly, please. Please don’t say that. I tried so hard. I did my best.”

  “Your best wasn’t good enough then, and it won’t be good enough for them,” she said, her voice cold.

  Kane lowered his head and shook it from side to side as the weight of this thought fell upon him. The raw ache made his spirit falter.

  “You failed us,” Molly whispered in the darkness. “You’ve failed us all. And now your family will pay the price for it too.”

  “Please, just tell me where they are, and I’ll try—”

  “You’re too late. We’re all gone now, burned up, added to the ashes of the world.”

  “No!” Kane lurched forward on the small cot, his lungs heaving, his mind racing with the words of his late friend. A sharp pang ran through him as his heart ached in his chest. He pushed his palms against his chest and pinched his eyes closed against the pain. “Not this again. Come on, damn you! Just let me find them before it’s too late. I can do this.”

  This was going to get her killed. She was quite sure of it. Susan crouched by the sidewall of the small, beat-up Nissan Sentra and waited for the best time to move. She would have to move quick, crossing an open area to the diesel tractor that was equipped with a radio of some sort. She had seen Garrett use it before. She wasn’t sure whether it operated on the same frequency as the one the radio control station used, the one her husband’s message had come through on, but she had to try. It was the only way she might be able to make contact.

  Susan glanced over her shoulder at the children, who were sleeping soundly on a bedroll by the fire. Their faces looked so sweet, so pure and innocent as if they were dreaming good dreams of places far away from the hellish nightmare that had become their lives. Susan blinked her eyes hard and lowered her head. She would take this chance to save them.

  Glancing around one final time to make sure the coast was clear, she flew across the open space in a low crouch, traveling about fifteen yards to the side of the truck. Pressing her back to the truck, she slowed her breathing and tried to control the banging of her heart in her ears.

  Getting the keys to the rig hadn’t been an easy task. The vehicle was Garrett’s after all, and the keys were always with him. Though it had disgusted her, she’d seduced him by her own volition, and when he was sound asleep, she’d pocketed the keys on her way out.

  She had thought about getting the kids, loading them up in the truck, and taking off, but the thought terrified her. First off, Garrett most likely would catch them all, and then he would have her killed. Who knew what terrible things would befall Rachael and Michael with Saxon around? But even if Susan were to escape, where would she go? All she knew about Kane’s location was that he was somewhere on the coast of South Carolina. Nothing more. Add to this the fact she and her children would be murdered if they encountered mutants or other bandits. The risks involved with fleeing at this point were too great. She had to make contact first.

  Susan pulled the keys from her pocket, singling out the large truck key. Sliding it into the door keyhole, she turned it with a solid thunk. She removed the key and pulled the handle, opening the door with a slight creak. At once Susan froze, her paranoia telling her that everyone in camp had heard the squeal of unoiled hinges. A quick glance around told her she was overreacting. The camp remained still and quiet.

  Moving into the cab, she pulled the door closed until the latch engaged with a click. Lying low on the seat, she inserted the key into the ignition, checking to make sure no exterior lights would come on, then tu
rned it one position to activate battery power to the vehicle. A few dim interior lights blinked to life, and she moved her fingertips to the power knob on the radio. With a snap the backlit panel illuminated, and the fuzz of static came over the speaker. Taking hold of the tuner knob, she adjusted it in single-point increments, trying to find the right frequency.

  Ten minutes of careful work in the silence of the cab had rendered nothing. Susan was beginning to believe that the attempt had been a stupid and dangerous waste of time when, in a crackle of static, she heard the faint sound of a voice.

  “Shhhh…Radio control station on the coast of South Carolina, north of Charleston…shhhh.”

  Susan listened as pure hope welled up in her chest. It wasn’t Kane’s voice, but the location was the same, and the message that followed was almost identical to the one she’d heard from the lips of her husband. She would wait until the message was over then try to make contact.

  When the voice finished, Susan waited a moment before picking up the microphone and raising it to her lips. Anticipation coursed through her as she formulated what she would say to the voice on the other end. Just as she keyed up the microphone, the door of the truck flew open to reveal the wild, blue face of Saxon, grinning with evil satisfaction.

  In the stillness of the starless night, the sounds of the whipping wind, punctuated by the occasional skitter of a hungry rodent were the only sounds in the otherwise quiet control station.

  Courtland mouthed some small bit of scripture to himself as he sat in the low, sterile glow of a fluorescent solar lantern. The tattered and worn pages of the old Bible had seen better days, but instead of feeling worn out, they felt comfortable, like an old friend who’s never too busy to give a few words of encouragement.

  He smiled as he turned the page and touched the ragged photographs of his wife and daughter. He wished that they had been afforded the opportunity to all live together. He had lost his dear wife, Teshauna, to a fatal hemorrhage during the birth of his darling girl, his only child, Marissa. His two ladies had only a moment to meet. It was the best and worst day of his life.

  Courtland sat deep in thought, brimming with admiration and love for his two loves, one he’d lost years ago, the other lost in a terrible accident just before the civilized world had ended. He caressed their pictures with a heavy finger, nestling them safely in his worn and tattered Bible.

  “I miss you both so much,” he whispered in the silent glow of the lantern. “You were the best parts of me. It’s so hard to keep going sometimes, but I’ll praise the Lord and rejoice that he gives me the strength to do so.”

  Unannounced, Kane appeared in the doorway to the common room. “Am I interrupting something?”

  “No.” Courtland shut his Bible and set it on the couch next to him. “What’s bothering you?”

  “How’d you know?” Kane leaned against the doorframe and sighed as he ran his fingers through his hair.

  “You’re up in the middle of the night, just like me. Can’t sleep again?”

  “Nah. You either?”

  “Not too much these days. How are you faring?”

  Kane shrugged. “The nightmares are a little too much to bear sometimes.”

  Courtland nodded. “What was it?”

  “I had a dream about Molly and…” Kane paused to exhale deeply then looked up. “…that guy Jeff and his family.” He looked at Courtland. “Did we do the right thing? Did we do what was best for everyone? I mean, should we have given him another chance?”

  Courtland considered this and shook his head slowly. “I don’t know, brother. My heart says yes, for the sake of his family, but if he was willing to do something that drastic, who knows what he might do in the future. Besides, think of the message that not punishing him would send to everyone else here.”

  “Sure, but we didn’t exile Dagen after what he did. Somehow that dirt bag got to stay.”

  Courtland made a concerned face. “I don’t know, Kane. We made a choice. We did what we felt was best for the group, and now we’ll have to live with that choice. There’s no way we could have known about the man’s family.”

  “Yeah, I know.” Kane sighed. “My brain is just full of…so much these days.”

  “Your family?”

  “Yes,” Kane said, rubbing his eyes. “My dreams are filled with their memories—accusations that I’ve failed them.”

  “You never failed them,” Courtland said. “You couldn’t help what happened.”

  “She said they’re alive. The last thing Molly said to me was that my family is alive. How am I supposed to sleep with that in my head? Knowing that they might be out there while I’m here doing nothing?”

  “You’re not doing nothing. You’re doing what you’re supposed to be doing.”

  “Tell that to my family who likely thinks I’m dead, and who might be in danger.”

  “Kane, be careful. If you try to make this thing your own, to control it, it could ruin you. And that’s just what Satan wants—a foothold in your life.”

  “Enough with the sermon, man,” Kane said, his face darkening as he stepped back into the hall to leave. “I’m serious about this.”

  Courtland gestured with his Bible. “So am I.”

  Kane waved his hands. “Yeah, I know. Courtland always knows just what to do,” he said, as he exited back down the hall to a cramped room full of restless dreams.

  “I’m sorry, brother. If only I did,” Courtland whispered, lowering his head in the faint, glow of the common area. “Lord Jesus, help us.”

  Susan clutched for something to hold on to as she was snatched from the cab of the truck, falling four and a half feet to the ground. She landed face down, the brutal impact with the earth flexing her rib cage as it absorbed the blow. She cried out as the wind was knocked out of her. She immediately rolled onto her side, pulling her legs up into the fetal position. Before she could regain her breath, she was grabbed by her hair and yanked to her feet. The hand in her hair moved its way to her throat and pushed her against the side of the big rig. The blue of Saxon’s ugly mug snarled just inches from her face.

  “And just what the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

  “I…I…” Susan wheezed, still trying to fill the void in her chest.

  “You were going to steal Garrett’s truck, weren’t you?”

  “No, I swear—”

  “Garrett! You’d better get out here!” Saxon called at the top of his lungs. “You’re going to want to hear this!”

  Torches ignited around the camp as people rose and gathered by the truck. Garrett exited his tent in a huff as he threw on a shirt.

  “What’s going on?”

  “My dear Garrett,” Saxon gestured to the group. “This is what happens when you let your little sex slave have free reign of your tent.”

  A few people laughed. Garrett turned red.

  “What the hell is going on here?” he spat.

  “I caught your woman here trying to steal your truck.”

  Garrett looked into the truck and saw the keys in the ignition. His rage began to blossom.

  “It’s not true, Garrett,” Susan said gasping for breath. “I wouldn’t steal from you.”

  Saxon slammed her against the truck again. “That’s bullshit! This bitch is lying,” he barked over his shoulder.

  Garrett didn’t make a move to help her.

  “Tell the truth, or I’ll cut your head off!” Saxon growled, pushing a knife to her throat.

  “I was just…curious about the radio. That’s all,” Susan mumbled unconvincingly.

  Saxon pushed the knife harder against her throat as the skin began to split.

  “Sheathe the knife, Saxon,” Garrett said. “Sheathe it. She doesn’t care if you kill her. But there is something else,” he said, motioning for one of Saxon’s men to come forward.

  In the flickering torchlight, Susan saw the man step forward. With a baleful smile on his face, the man held her son, Michael. Cupping his hand under the you
ng boy’s chin, he pulled the boy’s face skyward to expose the soft, fleshy parts of the child’s neck. The light glimmered on the blade of the knife that rested there.

  “Momma?” the boy whispered, terror pouring from his quaking features like a dripping mask.

  For an instant Susan almost fainted, the sheer and overwhelming sight of a knife at her son’s throat causing her to go weak in the knees.

  “You should choose your next words very carefully,” Garrett intoned. “You’re going to tell me everything, including who you were trying to raise on the radio.”

  Susan whimpered as Saxon released her, snickering.

  FIVE

  BEFORE

  WESTERN NORTH CAROLINA

  The thin, seven-year-old boy with long, brown hair and smooth tan skin stood at the edge of his bed, stuffing the last of his schoolbooks into his canvas backpack. The school bus would arrive any minute. The boy took two steps toward the door of his small room and stopped, glancing over his shoulder at the closet to his left.

  “Get out here! Miss that bus again and I’ll beat your ass!” came the raspy smoker’s voice from the living room.

  “Yes, Momma. I’m coming,” the boy called back.

  He moved to the closet, digging through the junk on the floor of the small space. He grabbed a few items then stuffed them into the backpack. He would need them if he went to see Grandfather Nuk’Chala later.

  The hiss of air brakes as the school bus pulled away from the curb brought him to full attention.

  “No!” he yelled as he ran for the door. “Wait!”

  He flung the flimsy trailer door open and saw the bus round the corner and move out of sight. His shoulders slumped and he half turned toward the living room.

  “Momma, the bus—”

  With a violent movement, the woman crashed into the boy, shoving him against the wall, her long, painted fingernails digging into the flesh of his arm. He cried out in shock and pain as her whiskey-soaked breath washed over him. At seven fifteen in the morning, and she was already drunk—again.

  “What the hell is wrong with you? What did I say? What did I just say to you?” she screamed.