Darlington Woods

by Mike Dellosso

  All four dogs were still streaking across the open ground.

  A shot rang out, a sharp crack, the sound of a deer rifle, and one of the dogs lifted into the air with a yelp, twisted once, then landed in a heap. Rob looked over at Will and watched him do the bolt action, aim, and pull the trigger. Another shot, and another dog went down. Quickly, now, like he'd done it in his sleep a million times, Will chambered another round and took down dog number three, the thing writhing and squealing from a shot in the rear flank.

  The final dog was almost there and closing in fast. Will did his thing, steadied his hand, and aimed. He squeezed the trigger but nothing happened. Cursing, he threw the bolt back and forward again. Pulled the trigger. Still nothing. "It's jammed," he said.

  And just as the words passed over his lips, the dog hit Larry Fuhrman square in the chest, knocking him back ten feet.

  What unfolded next happened so fast it was almost as if it had been choreographed. The group gasped and took a collective reflexive step backward. The dog dug into Larry, snarling and tearing with its teeth and claws. Larry tried to fight back, flailing arms and legs and screaming like a banshee. From the crowd stepped Phil Holiday, hatchet raised high, eyes wild with fear and anger, face twisted into an awful grimace. He rushed the dog, lifted the hatchet higher, and then brought it down hard on the dog's head with a sickening thud. The dog made no sound at all but went limp and rolled to one side, the hatchet still stuck in its head.

  Larry, bloodied and mangled, curled into a fetal position and moaned. Phil stood over him, arms hanging limp, breathing heavily.

  An eerie silence settled over the town of Darlington. Across the meadow, not a darkling screamed or hissed.

  The silence persisted for a minute or so until someone behind Rob said, "What are they waiting for? What's happening?"

  Suddenly, a steady breeze moved across the meadow from the direction of the woods, bending the grass in a wavelike motion. As it neared, it picked up strength, and Rob could feel the group of Darlingtonians collectively brace themselves. Juli tightened her grip on his arm.

  Just before reaching the assembly, the breeze became a gust of wind and, with a whoosh and a moan, hit the group with enough force to rock Rob back on his heels. At once, every oil lamp globe shattered and every flame was extinguished. Darkness moved in, and the only light now was the reflected glow of the moon.

  A chill spread over Rob's skin. Beside him, he felt Juli shiver.

  Rob looked at the night sky. Dark clouds were moving in and silently sailing across the black sea like pirate ships in the night. One passed over the moon, partially obscuring its light.

  Now the darklings started screaming again. A chorus of howls and yelps and hisses erupted from the woods.

  "What's happening?" a man said.

  "I think they're gonna charge," said another.

  The meadow was washed in a strange bluish light, and it was nearly impossible to see beyond the line of trees.

  "Maybe we should all go back in our homes," Rose Tuckey said.

  But before anyone could answer or take her up on her suggestion, a dark mob stepped from the woods and into the meadow. The darklings. Someone behind Rob cursed, and he heard retreating footsteps. Gravel crunched as the folks of Darlington shifted nervously.

  For a moment, the darklings fell silent; then, as if the order had been given, they screamed in unison and broke into a run.

  Rob turned and looked at the group behind him. They weren't warriors, neither physically nor spiritually. The fear on their faces was evident, even in the muted light. They would be slaughtered. He knew what he had to do. It was the only way. And just the thought of it brought a cold sweat to his forehead.

  He thought of Jimmy then, and Kelly too. He saw their faces smiling at him. Jimmy broke into a happy laugh. They would be proud of him; he knew they would. He'd learned a priceless lesson: that living fearlessly was less about not having fear and more about overcoming the fear you did have. Overcoming it and doing the right thing. And what he was about to do was the right thing. It was the only thing.

  Turning back around, he said a silent prayer and stepped away from Juli.

  She gripped his arm with both hands. "Rob, no."

  Rob stopped and looked back at Juli. The look on his face said it all. She knew what he was doing. She hated it, but she knew it.

  "I have to," he said. "It's the only way."

  He was right. It was the only way. She released her hold on him as tears pooled in her eyes and a knot settled in her throat.

  Rob walked steadily toward the meadow and the charging horde of darklings. Upon seeing his advance they picked up speed, and their screams became more frenzied.

  A murmur spread across the group of townsfolk.

  Juli whipped her head around and found Mary Jane in the back of the crowd. Their eyes locked, and Juli didn't miss the tears on her grandmother's cheeks.

  "Look!" someone yelled.

  Juli turned back to the meadow and saw Rob in a full run, head ducked, heading right for the advancing wall of darklings. Her heart jumped into her throat, and her palms immediately took to sweating. "God, please be with him."

  Rob and the darklings were only yards away now. The group assembled behind Juli gasped as one. In the final yards, the darklings converged into a smaller, tighter group and hit Rob like a truck. His feet lifted off the ground, and he landed hard on his back. Juli heard the air escape his lungs. In an instant, he was covered with darklings, biting and clawing at him.

  A man behind Juli began to cry. Another whimpered.

  Then, as if the sun itself fell to the earth, blinding light exploded from beneath the horde of darklings. Juli turned her head and covered her eyes with her arm. The world around her was silent and bright, brighter than a cloudless day at high noon. No screams were heard, no crying, no gasps. Through squinted eyes she peered at her feet. The gravel, her shoes, her pants leg, it was all washed out by a light so pure and white it was like nothing this world could produce.

  The light continued to shine for maybe thirty seconds then shut off as quickly as it had flashed on. Slowly, Juli removed her arm and looked around. The world was back to darkness with only the light of the moon to illuminate the town of Darlington. One by one, the people opened their eyes and turned back around.

  Rob was lying in the middle of meadow, motionless. No darklings were to be found anywhere. They were gone. Banished by the light.

  Tears sprang from Juli's eyes and ran down her cheeks. She started toward Rob when she was stopped by a movement across the meadow. A lone figure moved toward them, a man.

  Her father.

  He'd tear her limbs off and beat the old woman to death with them. Hatred filled him now. It was in control. Calling the shots. So Shields had thrown him a curveball and managed to drive off the underlings. Big deal. He didn't need them anyway. And besides, in doing so, Shields had managed to take his own life. It would have been more satisfying to extinguish Shields's existence himself, but what was done was done. The outcome was the same.

  Now he'd have the pleasure of taking two more lives. And these would be with his bare hands.

  The girl was walking toward him, shoulders back, head up. Trying to be brave. She looked so much like her mother it made him sick. He hated that woman. Enjoyed every moment of tormenting her.

  The townspeople were huddling together like scared rabbits. They'd give him no trouble. Especially not after witnessing what he was about to do.

  In the center of the clearing they met. Shields's lifeless corpse was to his left, no more than twenty feet away. The girl turned and looked at it, her cheeks wet with tears. How pathetic.

  In one quick motion, he brought his right hand up and hit her along the side of the head. She lunged to the side but remained on her feet. Someone in the crowd of cowards began to cry. The girl hadn't even tried to block it or move out of the way. This was going to be fun.

  The sound of someone being hit roused Rob to some form
of consciousness. His body burned and throbbed, felt disjointed. His vision was blurred crimson with blood. He lifted his head from the ground and saw Juli and Wax Man facing off. He towered over her. Juli was bent to the right and held the side of her face. Wax Man said something, but Rob couldn't hear what it was. He was fading in and out. His head fell back to the ground, and pain burned along the nape of his neck. His eyes closed, and the outside world grew quiet.

  Rob lifted his eyelids again. Juli was still there, standing her ground. He heard her say something but wasn't sure if his ears were working properly. It sounded like she said, "I forgive you."

  Rob's eyes shut again; he was fading quickly. He heard Wax Man laugh.

  Pulling his eyes open for an instant, he saw Wax Man raise an arm to strike Juli.

  The side of Juli's face burned like fire where she had been struck. Her ear felt numb and dead. She'd said what she needed to say, that she forgave him, and meant it. The weight was lifted from her now. She no longer feared him, no longer bore that beastly burden.

  The man who was once her father raised a fisted hand and cocked it, ready to strike again.

  Juli braced herself. She would do nothing to deflect his hatred. Let what may come, come. She was ready.

  But before he could release his arm and drive his fist into her face a gunshot boomed. Juli flinched.

  The man's left shoulder jerked back as if he'd been punched, and he fell to the ground with a grunt.

  Juli whipped her head around, looked past the assembled group of townsfolk, and found Nana on her front porch, rifle raised and resting along her cheek.

  Movement in the meadow caught Juli's eye, and she turned back around. Rob. He was moving.

  "Rob."

  She took one step toward him when the man on the ground-the man who was once her father-moaned and turned to his side. Like a marionette with tangled strings he clambered to his feet in a series of awkward and painful movements. His left shoulder glistened with a dark fluid, and his arm hung like a broken tree limb.

  Juli froze and looked into his eyes. There was nothing there but empty hatred.

  With his right hand he wiped a string of saliva from his mouth and cursed loudly at Juli. His face twisted into an awful scowl, and he raised his right hand again.

  Another shot cracked like thunder, and the man's head snapped back so violently Juli thought it had detached from the neck. He staggered back a few steps and righted himself. A hole about the size of a nickel, a few inches above his left eye, just below the hairline, seeped blood. He wavered, grinned, then fell to his left, landing in a loose heap.

  Epilogue

  One year later...

  OB SHIELDS LOOKED AT HIMSELF IN THE MIRROR. He'd grown a beard to cover some of the scars, but the rest were impossible to hide. Five different surgeries with two different plastic surgeons had done wonders to restore his face, but he still thought he looked like a monster. Almost like a darkling. His nose leaned awkwardly to the right, his left eye was rimmed with shiny scar tissue, and his left ear was a mangled mess of cartilage. The rest of his body was covered with scars too, constant reminders of that night in Darlington.

  They'd hailed him a hero, said he saved the town by sacrificing himself. But he didn't want to be a hero; he just wanted to be Rob Shields and get on with his life.

  Juli snuck up behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist. "How'd you sleep last night?"

  Rob rubbed his face with his hand. He still had dreams about Jimmy and Kelly almost every night, sometimes nightmares. "Not bad."

  "Did you have any visitors?"

  Rob nodded. "Jimmy. Do you think they'll ever stop?"

  "Do you want them to stop?"

  "Not really."

  "Then probably not."

  Rob turned around and held Juli in his arms. She'd been in the sun lately, helping the neighbors catch up on yard work, and her skin had turned a rosy pink. He leaned forward and kissed her.

  "Have you called your parents lately?" she asked. Over the last year Rob and his parents had been slowly working through the past they shared. In many ways it was a painful experience, digging up the past and all the emotional baggage that went along with it, but it was also liberating to finally shine some light on the dark corners of the secrets they'd kept.

  "Talked to them yesterday. They're doing fine."

  "Good. I'm happy to see you getting close to them." She pointed back toward the kitchen. "I have some coffee for you," she said. "You can sit on the porch and watch the neighbors groom their yards."

  "Ooh, now that's entertainment you can't get anywhere outside Darlington."

  Rob kissed Juli again then walked through the house, picking up his coffee on the way, and headed out the front door. It was a nice morning, not too hot and low humidity. He sat in a wicker chair and propped his feet on a wooden stool. Across the street, Nana looked up from her garden and waved at him. He waved back. Down the street, Norm Tuckey was cruising around his front yard on his riding mower.

  Darlington was a much different place now.

  After finishing his coffee, Rob entered the house and found Juli in the kitchen. "When's your grandma coming over?"

  "She said she'd be here about five."

  "What are you making?"

  "Roast beast and smashed potatoes and stewed carrots all made the way my grandmother does it. She owns a restaurant, you know."

  "So I've heard."

  Rob set his mug in the sink. "I'm gonna go work on the house."

  Following the incident a year ago, he'd spent two months recuperating from his wounds, both physically and emotionally, then another month regaining his strength. For the past nine months he'd been slowly repairing the house in Mayfield, Wilda's place, while renting a house in Darlington. He'd hoped to have it done by the time he and Juli were married, but that came and went a month ago, and the house still wasn't ready.

  "What are you doing today?" Juli asked.

  "The rain spouting. And if I have time, there's some boards on the back porch that need to be replaced. After that, it'll be ready."

  "Ready to move in?"

  "Ready to call our own."

  Juli walked over to him and gave him a peck on the cheek. "Thank you for all your hard work. Be back in time for dinner."

  He grabbed his car keys and kissed her back. "I'll follow the smell."

  She patted his cheek. "Just don't let your smell follow

  Rob laughed. "See ya, babe." Then he said the same thing they both said every time they parted ways: "Keep the light

  Coming in 2011 from Mike Dellosso...

  ONE

  TRAVIS AWOKE IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT, COLD and terrified.

  The dream had come again. His brother. The shot.

  You did what you had to do, son.

  He sat up in bed and wiped the sweat from his brow.

  Next to him, Molly stirred, grunted, and found his arm with her hand. "You OK, babe?"

  "Yeah. I'm gonna go get some water."

  "You sure?"

  He found her forehead in the darkness and kissed it. "Yeah."

  The house was as still and noiseless as a mausoleum. Sam made his way down the hall to Eva's room, floorboards popping quietly under his feet. He cracked the door and peeked in. The Tinker Bell night-light cast a soft purple hue over the darkened room, giving it almost a moonlit glow. Odd-shaped shadows blotted the ceiling like dark clouds against a darker sky. In her bed, Eva was curled into a tight ball, head off the pillow, blankets at her feet. Sam opened the door all the way, tiptoed to the bed, and pulled the covers to his daughter's shoulders. She didn't stir even the slightest. For a few hushed moments he stood there and listened to her low rhythmic breathing. The past six months had been hard on them all, but Eva had handled it surprisingly well. She was just a kid, barely seven, but displayed the maturity of someone much older. Sam never knew her faith, so much like her mother's, was so strong. His, on the other hand...

  Outside her room he pulled t
he door closed, leaving it open a few inches.

  Further down the hall he entered the bathroom where another night-light, this one a blue flower, reflected off the porcelain tub, sink, and toilet. He stood by the sink, turned on the water, and splashed some on his face. Remnants of the dream lingered and stuttered like a bad cell phone reception. Just images now, faces, twisted and warped. After toweling off, he studied himself in the mirror. In the muted light the scar running along the side of his head, just above his ear, didn't look so bad. His hair was growing back and covered most of it. Oddly, the new crop was coming in gray.

  From downstairs Sam heard a voice say his name. A chill tightened his scalp along the arc of the scar.

  He heard it again. His name. "Sammy." Not haunting or unnatural, but familiar, conversational. It was the voice of his brother. Tommy. He'd heard it a thousand times in his youth, a hundred ghostly times since the accident that had turned his brain to mush. The doctor called it an auditory hallucination.

  Sam exited the bathroom and stood at the top of the staircase leading to the first floor. At the bottom was a foyer. Little light from the second floor spilled down the stairs, and the empty space below looked like a strange planet, distant and queer. Who knew what bizarre creatures inhabited that land and what malicious intentions they harbored? He shivered at the thought.

  He heard the voice again-Tommy's-calling to him. "Sammy."

  Descending the stairs, Sam suddenly felt something dark, ominous, present in the house with him. He stopped and listened. Through the silence he could almost hear it breathing, and with each breath, each exhale, he could hear his name, now just a whisper.

  He started down the stairs again, taking one at a time, holding the railing and trying his hardest to find the quiet places on the steps.

  The voice was coming from the kitchen. At the bottom of the stairway he stared at the front door, half expecting it to fly open and Tommy to be standing there, half his head...

  You did what you had to do, son.