The Dark Trilogy

Home > Other > The Dark Trilogy > Page 23
The Dark Trilogy Page 23

by Patrick D'orazio


  Lydia stood up and gave Jeff a mysterious smile.

  “Why don’t you come with me?”

  Chapter 9

  Lydia held a small mirror in front of his face, and for the second time within an hour, Jeff stared at his reflection. He touched his hair-free jaw, and it felt strange. It had a slight numbness to it after such a long time of being covered with the scraggly beard, as if a bandage or a layer of thick leather had been removed. The skin was slightly paler than that of the cheeks above the razor line. He took the mirror from Lydia and admired the haircut as well. The pile of hair covering the floor was immense. He was beginning to recognize himself again.

  “So did I do okay?”

  Jeff continued to admire her handiwork.

  “I would show you the back, but I don’t have another mirror.”

  “No problem.” He looked up at Lydia and smiled. “You did great.”

  Lydia beamed at Jeff. “I’m so glad you let me do it. Megan said she was tired of hanging out with a hobo.” His grin broadened, and she laughed. It was not long before he joined her.

  “So that was what you two were laughing at, huh?”

  Lydia nodded slyly. She had taken a coffee cup of scalding-hot water from the boiling pot and surprised Jeff when she brought out some of the shaving cream he had gotten at the drug store along with a straight razor, a plastic bag of scissors and other grooming implements she already had. The cloth she had doused in the hot water had done the trick, and his beard felt like it was sliding off his face when she took the razor to it.

  “I tried to get some of the others to let me do this to them, but only Michael and Ben seemed interested. Ben kept his beard, but he lets me trim it. Frank and Marcus apparently like looking like chimps.” Lydia swatted the excess hair off of Jeff’s shoulders as she spoke.

  “Michael looks like the type who would want to keep well groomed.”

  The hand on Jeff’s shoulder paused. After a few silent moments, Lydia continued brushing off the trimmings. When she was done, she sat down at the table with a determined look on her face.

  “You and Megan don’t trust Michael, do you?”

  The question caught Jeff off guard, but he hid his surprise well as he continued to admire Lydia’s handiwork in the mirror. After a few moments, he looked at her and carefully set the small mirror on the table.

  “What makes you say that?”

  Lydia gave him a world-weary smile, and there was an intelligent gleam in her eyes.

  Jeff shifted uncomfortably in his chair as he continued to stare at her. Lydia was plain. Not unattractive, just simple, clean, and careworn. He guessed she was in her early sixties. Unlike many women her age, she kept her hair long and didn’t bother to dye the gray out of it. Even with it falling past her shoulders, it was well maintained. She was solidly built and sturdy looking. He guessed that she had probably never been much of a looker, but she had a gentle aura that made her look like she would make an excellent companion in life. There was a crinkling of age lines around her eyes—and the eyes themselves held sadness, but also a great deal of wisdom.

  The smile changed slightly as her eyes danced. “Come on, Jeff. I might have been born at night, but not last night.”

  Lydia paused for a second. Jeff squirmed in his seat again, and she chuckled quietly. “I know what happened out on the road. Megan told me everything.”

  Jeff’s nostrils flared, and his lower lip quivered in anger. “So you know your buddies shoved guns in our faces and took all our stuff.” He tried to keep his tone neutral and matter-of-fact. Lydia did not flinch, but her eyes acknowledged the comment.

  “Our guns were taken from us, and we were brought here with no consideration for what we wanted.”

  Jeff kept glaring at her, but she didn’t respond. Lydia simply matched his glare with her own relaxed expression. “That stuff that you thanked us for? All the food and other supplies? That was ours. But now it’s yours.”

  Jeff’s voice grew more irritated in the face of Lydia’s impassiveness, but still she didn’t react. He forced himself to remain calm as he sat across from her, refusing to show any signs of awkwardness as he waited for her to come up with an excuse.

  She moved her hands over to Jeff’s, which were twisted together. He realized he had been contorting and squeezing them as he spoke. Lydia covered them with hers, and a gentle look came into her eyes.

  “Jeff. We’ve all been through so much. We’re barely hanging on here. Every day is a battle for us to get by and to figure out how to keep going.”

  Lydia’s fingers were warm and smooth as they wrapped around his. Jeff forced his hands to relax and stop clenching and unclenching beneath her gentle touch.

  “If you want me to say I feel guilty for what happened, okay. I do. But you need to understand that I knew what Michael had planned on doing long before you showed up.” Lydia gripped his hands tighter as Jeff’s eyes widened in surprise and he tried to pull away. “Jeff, what he did was necessary. It was the only way we could get you to stop.”

  There was no pleading or embarrassment in her eyes, just conviction. Lydia might have regretted Michael’s methods, but she was happy with the end results.

  She tugged on his hands again. Jeff realized he had been staring at them. He blinked and looked back at Lydia.

  “I just hope that someday you’ll understand that Michael is just trying to do his best … for all of us.”

  There was still no pleading in Lydia’s voice. A stab of irritation rose back up in Jeff.

  “Well, it’s not as if Michael gave us much of a choice, now did he? It’s not like he waved us down and asked us what we thought about joining your little club,” Jeff fumed. “I’m sorry, but your perfect leader ain’t so perfect in my estimation.”

  Lydia gave him a frown. “Now, Jeff, did I ever say I believed Michael was perfect?” She shook her head. “He isn’t perfect. Far from it. But neither are you or anyone else. So let’s not start picking nits, okay? I already told you: Megan shared everything. I’m pretty sure you don’t feel like what you’ve done over the past few days has been perfect.”

  Jeff’s face turned beet red with embarrassment and indignation. His head swam as he tried to recall everything that had happened, every crazy thing he had done since fleeing his house. He had done the best he could. Maybe Megan thought him foolish for that, but they were still alive …

  “Hey.” Lydia’s voice was soft once again, grandmotherly. “You did what you had to, Jeff. To survive. Don’t think for a second that Megan doesn’t appreciate that.”

  Jeff shook his head. Most of the time, Megan seemed angry or frustrated with his decision making, not appreciative.

  “She is so proud of you. More than she would ever admit.” Lydia smiled conspiratorially. “More than she would even admit to me, but it was obvious as we spoke.”

  Jeff continued to shake his head, his eyes filled with disbelief. “Megan thinks I’m nuts. That everything I’ve done is crazy.” He glared fiercely at Lydia. “And she’s so damn stubborn, she drives me nuts.”

  Lydia laughed. It was a pleasant sound, and the tension in the room eased a bit. “It’s so obvious, Jeff. You’re both pigheaded! Everything one of you does is going to drive the other one crazy. Just accept it and move on.”

  Lydia gave Jeff a knowing look. “Let’s just agree that you aren’t perfect and no one else is either. But if Michael has done anything really terrible, then I’d like to hear about it.”

  Jeff thought about it for a moment and then shrugged. “Okay. I’ll admit he’s been hospitable for the most part. But you should have seen him jump on Frank when he threatened Megan.”

  Lydia sighed and shook her head in frustration. “That man is a pain in the ass.”

  Jeff snorted and nodded in agreement.

  “Frank and Marcus aren’t the sharpest tacks in the box, but they are loyal as hell to Michael. I just wish they would stop trying to pretend they’re generals in his army.”

 
Lydia shifted in her chair as she continued. “I know Michael gets frustrated with how they act, but we need them.” She smiled slightly. “And now we have you and George here as well.”

  “Yep, and those two are probably feeling threatened by our arrival.”

  “Oh, don’t you worry about that. They have loud mouths, but they follow Michael’s orders. They won’t try anything stupid, no matter how much they bray like jackasses.”

  “So what about Ben?”

  Lydia’s eyes lit up. “Ben is such a sweetheart. He is so good with the children. I tell you, I wouldn’t know what to do without him. He does whatever I ask without a word of complaint.”

  “Well, that’s all well and good, but why doesn’t Michael put him in charge of things and … demote Frank?”

  Lydia shook her head. “Ben doesn’t care about any of that. He just does what needs doing and minds his own business. Frank, on the other hand ... well, I guess it trips his trigger to boss people around.” She rolled her eyes, and a smirk crossed her face. “He tried telling me how to manage the food situation and what to do with the children about a week ago. I gave the little smartass a piece of my mind that day, I’ll tell you. He never saw it coming.”

  The grim satisfaction on her face faded, and Lydia looked serious once again. “Pickings are slim these days, Jeff. There were more of us not so long ago.” Lydia had a faraway look in her eyes for a moment, as if she was remembering the people they had lost. Her back stiffened, and her face became stern. “We have to make do with those still with us.”

  She looked Jeff in the eyes. “But as I said, you and George are here now.” She paused, correcting herself. “Megan too, of course. She’ll be a great help around the camp … because some other people, who shall remain nameless, are not much of a help at all.”

  Jeff could guess who Lydia was talking about as she pursed her lips and looked irritated. Cindy didn’t seem interested in doing much except hanging all over Michael. Jeff blotted the punker girl out of his mind as he tried to focus on the rest of what Lydia had said.

  “Well, you should know that George wants to leave … if Michael will let him go.”

  “Megan told me about his family. It’s so sad. But I guess it can’t be helped.” Jeff could hear the regret in Lydia’s voice.

  “So … is there any chance Michael might let him leave?” Jeff already knew the camp leader’s position on the subject but was hoping to learn more about how he operated and perhaps find a way to convince him to let George go.

  Lydia paused as she thought about it.

  “Do you honestly believe his family is still alive?”

  “I’ll tell you what I told Michael yesterday. It really doesn’t matter what I think. The man has the right to try to get to his family, and none of us should stand in his way. Do I want George to stay with us? Hell yes! But I know he’s sitting in that RV right now staring at the walls, thinking about his family. He’ll go crazy if he’s forced to stay here much longer. So again, I ask you: Will Michael let him leave?”

  The tears Jeff saw in Lydia’s eyes as she shook her head were disconcerting.

  “It’s such a shame, Jeff. I feel so horrible for him. If it were up to me, I wouldn’t have the heart to make him stay.” Lydia dug into her pocket for a tissue and dabbed her eyes. “But Michael is more of a realist than I am. You have to understand, if we let people go off on suicide missions to try to save someone they think might still be alive, there wouldn’t be anyone left inside of a week.”

  Jeff felt the urge to agree with Lydia. George had not come to grips with the fact that his family was dead. But as he sat there trying to imagine himself in the other man’s shoes, he knew how hard it would be not knowing for certain what had happened to the people he loved.

  He couldn’t think of a response, so the two of them sat quietly, lost in their own thoughts. When the silence began to get awkward, Jeff decided it would be best to change the subject.

  “So, I guess we’ll be heading out for supplies later.”

  Lydia’s face fell.

  “Please be careful. I really don’t know why Michael wants you to go out today.”

  “Why’s that? Don’t the guys go out pretty regularly? I mean, that’s how they found us, right?”

  Lydia shook her head. “They found you because they heard your minivan coming down the road long before you got here. Ben was out there—he’s our scavenger, and he was the one who let Michael know someone was coming over the walkie-talkies. Michael rounded up all the men, and they left.” She laughed at the memory. “I’ll tell you, it was certainly a surprise for us. We haven’t heard anything except a few dogs barking, birds chirping and … well, you know … that moaning noise they make, in ages.” Lydia rubbed her hands together nervously.

  Jeff tried to digest what she was saying. “So going outside of the camp—except for Ben—is pretty extraordinary, right?”

  Lydia nodded.

  “Do you have any idea why Michael would suggest we go on a supply run just one day after we got here?”

  “I don’t know. Perhaps because there are four new mouths to feed?”

  Jeff frowned as he nodded reluctantly. It was certainly a possibility, but still seemed strange. Something didn’t feel right about Michael’s decision. He was feeling the urge to have another chat with their fearless leader.

  He thanked Lydia for the haircut and shave as he stood up. She surprised Jeff with a hug, kissing him on the cheek and telling him to be careful. He nodded and smiled at her as he left.

  There was a look of concern on Lydia’s face as she watched him go. Since she and the others had discovered this hiding spot, there had been only one instance where anyone besides Ben had left the safety of the RVs, and that was to go out and get Jeff and his companions. Now, a day later, they would be going out again. She sat down in her chair and stared out a window at the thick woods behind which they were hiding.

  “God help them out there,” she whispered as she suppressed a shiver.

  Chapter 10

  When Jeff walked out of Lydia’s RV, he knew something was wrong.

  Everyone was clumped together around one of the tables across the courtyard. There appeared to be an argument going on between Frank and George, with Michael playing the part of referee.

  “Oh shit,” was all he could mumble under his breath as Megan, who had been involved in the discussion as well, spotted him and walked his way.

  Jeff noticed Marcus patrolling the roofs again, shotgun propped against his hip as he surveyed the woods. The man spit over the side and continued walking, ignoring what was going on below as he used his hand to shield his eyes from the sun.

  Jeff didn’t relish what he guessed was about to happen. Michael had his arms crossed, a hard look on his face. Frank was poking his index finger at George’s chest and looked ready to throw down with the bigger man. Jeff tensed, waiting for his friend to explode and twist Frank into various pretzel shapes. But as he watched, he saw that while George was upset, he was keeping his cool as he shook his head stiffly at the other two men.

  Ben was sitting near the action in one of the lawn chairs. His feet were kicked up, a ball cap shifted forward on his forehead, which gave Jeff the impression that he was taking a nap. Cindy was close by as well, enjoying the argument from beneath the shade of her RV’s awning.

  As he moved closer, Jeff saw that Jason was standing behind the three men. He looked as agitated as the others, but was not joining in the argument. Jeff picked up speed and met Megan near the smoldering fire pit.

  “They can’t do it. I won’t let them! You have to tell that prick!”

  Jeff held up his hands in an effort to calm the ranting woman. He could see icy fire in her blue eyes. “Okay, okay. Ease up! What’s going on?”

  “They want Jason to go. Jeff, he can’t go! He’s not old enough, and I’ll be damned if I’ll let him back out there. You HAVE to tell Michael to forget it!”

  Jeff put his hands on Megan’s arms
to steady her as he watched the men. Michael was now speaking to George, having stepped in front of Frank. So far, Michael was remaining calm, and Jeff hoped that cooler heads might prevail.

  Suddenly, Jason jumped into the discussion, and Jeff tensed again. He was yelling at George.

  Jeff sighed and looked at Megan.

  “So Jason wants to go out there with us, huh?”

  “Yes, and Michael and fucking Dumbo are saying it’s okay, it should be his choice, not mine or George’s.”

  Megan was on the verge of tears, but her anger held sway. Jeff couldn’t blame her for getting upset. Jason was only twelve. As he looked back over at Michael, his eyes narrowed as he understood what was really going on. Taking a deep breath, he gripped Megan’s arms even tighter and looked her in the eyes.

  “Megan, listen to me, okay? This is a ploy. Michael is trying to drive a wedge between us.”

  Megan’s eyes burned holes through Jeff.

  “I don’t give a crap what type of mind trick he is trying to play here. All I know is that Jason is not leaving this camp. He. Is. Not. Leaving.”

  As she repeated herself, Jeff felt her arms quiver with rage. Megan’s voice elevated with every word, and it didn’t appear as if she was going to stop.

  “Calm down. Okay? All right, Megan, fine! I’ll talk to them. I’ll tell them he’s not going. I’ll figure something out.”

  Megan’s voice was calm again. Deadly calm. “I need you to handle this, Jeff, before I kill that bastard and his fat monkey.”

  Jeff could only stare at her. Megan looked homicidal. He heard a door open up behind him and guessed it was Lydia.

  “Promise me.”

  “Okay, I promise.” Jeff nodded. Satisfied, Megan turned and walked back toward the table. Jeff reached out and grabbed her again, swinging her around.

  “You need to promise me something too.” He matched Megan’s angry eyes with his determined ones. “Let me handle this. Just stay back and let me deal with Michael and Frank, okay?”

 

‹ Prev