The Dark Trilogy

by Patrick D'orazio

  Tossing a quick glance over his shoulder, Jeff tried to spot where his minivan had been parked. He had no delusions that it was still there or that it would make a difference if it were. Getting Ray back to his feet and moving again was not feasible, and even if he could, he knew they wouldn’t make it ten feet before they were torn to pieces.

  As he pulled the trigger of the shotgun, Jeff tried to refocus on his hopeless task. They had stirred up the whole town. Hell, they had probably stirred up two or three counties with all their gunfire. The dinner bell had been rung, and everyone was coming to get them.

  He fired and took out a little girl plus the adult standing directly behind her. The pellets blew off the top off the girl’s head and neatly sliced the torso of the bigger ghoul in half. As he fired once more, he backpedaled toward Ray. The sound of the shotgun drowned out his thoughts, which were turning toward the seductive possibility of a less painful death for him and the kid.

  He finally turned and ran back to the boy. As Jeff glanced at the teen, he spotted a shadow off to the left, creeping up the side of the building. He clenched his teeth and skidded to a halt next to Ray. There was no time to worry about rotters coming up from behind the building. Not yet at least. Jeff turned back toward the road and saw a blur of motion in front of him.

  It was a young and formerly attractive woman wearing a leather miniskirt and silk blouse moving past the sidewalk toward them. Amazingly, her outfit was fairly clean. Her pantyhose had several runs, but were relatively intact. Somehow, her hair was still pulled back in some sort of scrunchy contraption, though several strands had fought their way free. As Jeff pulled the trigger, she hissed at him, and he caught a glimpse of her blackened teeth, which—along with the milky eyes—were the only thing that shattered the illusion that she was normal. His shot spun her sideways as it hit her shoulder, but she remained standing.

  Knowing he had shot the last shell, Jeff flipped the shotgun around so he could wield it like his baseball bat. It was lopsided and uncomfortable, but would have to do. He was tempted to demand the handgun from Ray but didn’t want to leave the boy unarmed.

  “Nail whatever you can, kid.”

  Ray looked up and saw the woman. Jeff was blocking his chance to shoot at her with the Beretta, so Ray looked for another target. There were plenty to choose from. He raised the gun and gripped it in both hands. The shaking and his blurred vision made things difficult. They would have to be right on top of him before he could do any good. So the dying teenager waited.

  Jeff resisted the urge to turn and see how close the stiffs moving up the sides of the building were getting. The woman he had shot had already recovered and was nearly on top of him. As he swung the shotgun in a wide arc toward her head, he was tempted to yell out to Ray to watch his back, but instead grunted as the butt of the long gun connected with the woman’s skull. There was no satisfying crack, but she fell to the ground, out of his way. He swung the weapon back around as another pair of hands grabbed for him. One of the new monster's arms blocked his swing, and he could not connect with its head. It stumbled to the side and growled in frustration.

  Jeff crept backwards, ducking from more grasping hands, but one clutched his arm. It felt cold and clammy, and he reacted as if a tarantula had landed on him. Squealing in fright, he jumped backwards, his sweat serving as a lubricant, which allowed him to break free of the compressing hold. He tried to get the shotgun in front of him, but his foot twisted beneath him, and he toppled over.

  That was all Ray needed. When Jeff dropped to the ground, the boy finally had a clear target. His shot created a perfect circle under the jaw of the closest rotting figure. The bullet traveled up through the ghoul’s brain and mushroomed, leaving a large exit wound that took out the top of its skull. Ray gasped as it fell backwards into the arms of another one of the creatures.

  The teen’s next shot targeted a woman in a coverall and utility belt who was already stooping toward him. The shot went wild as she leaned forward and opened her mouth. Ray saw her jagged, broken teeth, but could not raise the gun high enough to point it at them. Her hands were in the way, blocking the gun as they pressed down on his arms. All he could do was desperately fire bullets into her chest. She jittered, but kept pressing down, teeth getting closer. Ray could smell the fetid air that hissed up from her throat as he looked at her wide and excited eyes. He screamed.

  Suddenly, the moaning stopped and a shaft of wood burst from the utility worker’s right eye. There was a small popping sound as its eyeball ruptured. Ray had no time to wonder what had happened as the woman collapsed on top of him. With her no longer grabbing at him, he was able to wriggle his arm free and slide it up against her chin, pushing her away. Her mouth was shut, but her one eye remained open as her body twitched, convincing him she was still alive. The fiery pain in his ankle was all but forgotten as he weakly fought to get out from under her. The boy froze as he saw another ghoul trying to pull her away to get at him.

  All Jeff knew was that he had avoided landing on Ray and needed to get up before another pus bag tackled him. The shotgun had fallen beneath him, and there was no way to reach it. He got to his knees and instantly felt fingers clutching at his hair and his head being wrenched around. Another hand yanked Jeff’s arm backwards as he gagged and tried to twist away.

  There was a jarring motion, and Jeff was knocked sprawling. It felt as if a tank had slammed into him, and there was a sharp pain as a clump of his hair was pulled out by the roots. He tried to tuck and roll, but the breath had been knocked out of him, and all he knew was that someone was screaming nearby.

  “Fuck you! And fuck you too!”

  It was the first time Jeff had heard Ben speak as he watched the giant smash his elbow into another walker trying to attack Ray. There were already three crumpled bodies at his feet as his elbow plowed into the temple of another ghoul, which dropped like a rock, its neck broken. Jeff watched, amazed, as Ben lashed out with a large combat boot that lifted a frail old man off his feet. Its arms pinwheeled as it landed a few feet in front of Ben.

  Ray was still trying to work his way out from underneath the woman’s corpse when Jeff ran to him, nearly slipping in a puddle of blood. When he got to the teenager, he helped lift the dead body off the boy and saw the arrow that had penetrated the utility worker’s eye.

  “You okay?”

  Ray was looking at Ben, and Jeff’s words did not register. Jeff snapped his fingers in front of Ray’s eyes. “I said, are you okay, kid?”

  Ray nodded, but his eyes never left Ben. Jeff couldn’t resist turning as well to watch the behemoth in action.

  Ben used his bow like a samurai sword, swinging it in a wide arc. It cracked against the skull of one marauder as another tried to jump on him. He was surrounded, but it didn’t seem to faze him, even as one of the infected was somehow able to wrap its arms around his waist and sink its teeth into his overalls. As Ben kicked out at another creature that had gotten too close, he barely paid attention to the biter latched to his hip. It was only after he bowled over two more stiffs that he dealt with the hanger-on. He wrapped his fingers in its wispy hair and, in one fluid motion, snapped its neck. It fell, boneless, to the ground.

  Ben was fast, far faster than Jeff imagined someone his size could be. He turned quickly, not even looking down at where he had been bitten, and moved to Ray. The boy stared at him, tears in his eyes.

  Ben glanced down at the tightly bound wound on Ray’s foot. “How you doing, kiddo?”

  “Ben,” was all the teen could say. The relief was palpable on his face as he smiled weakly.

  Ben returned the smile, but his had a tinge of sadness to it. He leaned in and slid one arm underneath Ray’s legs while the other went around his back. “Grab my neck.”

  Ray laid his head against the big man’s shoulder and followed his command. Jeff watched in amazement as the man easily lifted the heavy teenager without so much as a grunt. There were still several arrows in the quiver slung over his shoulder,
and as Jeff stared down the broad expanse of Ben’s back, his eyes moved to where the man had been bitten. There was no blood. Instead, there was a bit of tar-like saliva on the fabric. The tough material Ben wore had not been penetrated.

  Ben looked at Jeff. “Grab my bow and follow me.”

  Jeff nodded, picked up the thick bow, and glanced behind him. The infected were not in awe of Ben like he and Ray were, but the ogre-sized man had knocked enough of them silly that he had given the trio the few seconds they needed to get moving.

  Jeff glanced back at the shotgun and Beretta. Both were empty and useless. He resisted the temptation to pick them up as he took off running, following Ben between the buildings, back the way he had come.

  Almost immediately, Jeff heard a bloodcurdling scream and looked over his shoulder. The crowd was surging forward, bodies tumbling to the ground as more and more plague victims crammed into the narrow gap between the buildings in an effort to reach their prey. Most were hobbled, hindered by physical traumas that slowed but did not deter them. Jeff spotted far faster movement flickering in the depths of the crowd. Something out there was moving at a tremendous speed.

  It dawned on him where he had heard that scream before. It had happened more than once. The first time was when he was standing on the porch back at his house, looking out over a crowd of corrupted neighbors. He heard it again as he stepped out of the van to deal with an infected teenage girl in his neighborhood. Also, just before the man who had mauled his own family nearly strangled Jeff after charging across his bedroom.

  Numbing fear threatened to stall Jeff’s efforts to keep up with Ben’s long strides, but another identical scream sliced through the humid air. Jeff needed no more motivation as his heart skipped a beat and his pace increased in a desperate attempt to stay ahead of the crowd.

  Chapter 18

  Jeff wheezed heavily and felt his legs burning. It felt like there wasn’t enough oxygen in the air as he tried to keep up with the sprinting figure up ahead. It wasn’t just the running; it was the dodging and darting between buildings that was killing him. That and the fear that if he lost sight of Ben and tried to go off on his own, it would only be a matter of time before he was overtaken.

  He could barely remember most of the trip, though as they hit the railroad tracks, Jeff knew that they were getting close to their destination.

  “Come on, Jeff! Keep moving; we’re almost home!”

  Jeff wanted to respond, to warn Ben about the screams and what they meant. But the howling of the infected had diminished behind them, and it seemed that, for the moment, they had given themselves some distance from the ravenous creatures chasing them. Perhaps they had lost the screamer along with the rest of the slower-moving infected, but he somehow doubted that. His mouth opened, but all he could do was gasp for air as he stumbled forward.

  The trees were getting closer, bouncing up and down in Jeff’s field of vision. One of his feet came out from under him, and he fell, his arms windmilling wildly. All he could see was the ground rushing up to meet his face.

  Amazingly, despite the tremendous “ooof” that came out of his mouth and the pain in his palms as they hit the dirt, Jeff scrambled to his feet almost immediately and began moving again.

  When Ben disappeared into the trees, Jeff wondered if he could remember exactly where the entrance to their wooded haven was. As he got closer, the small bubble of panic in his stomach grew larger. He had ridden through the entrance in the minivan, but never walked through it. His breathing was harsh, and he imagined all the blood vessels in his body bursting from the strain. He examined the tree line, trying to find where Ben had disappeared, his eyes darting everywhere. It was not until he was right next to the pines that his fear subsided. He sighed and grabbed a low-hanging branch, launching his body into the depths of the wooded glen. What did it matter where the “entrance” was when you could slip through the tightly bunched trees on foot? After a few seconds, when it was certain he could no longer be seen from the field, Jeff leaned against one of the trees and collapsed in exhaustion.

  “Drop the ladder.”

  Jeff heard the words in the distance as he bounced off another tree. He had been able to pull himself back to his feet after a couple of minutes of catching his breath on the ground. Following the hum of voices, he knew it was Ben speaking and could tell the man was angry.

  “You know the drill, Ben. The kid has to stay out there. He’s as good as dead, and we can’t take any chances.” The voice belonged to Michael

  Jeff groaned inwardly. More than likely, if George had survived, the camp leader was under the impression that it was Jeff who had killed Marcus. The little white lie seemed like a good idea at the time, but that was when Jeff was certain he wasn’t going to survive much longer. And yet here he was, back at the camp, about to face the music for his impetuous decision to claim credit for the murder. Shaking his head, he snorted in disdain. Whatever punishment Michael had in store for him couldn’t possibly compare to the horrors he had endured over the past hour.

  He navigated through the trees, straining to hear the conversation.

  “I’ll watch over him myself, Michael. You don’t have to worry about it. There’s no reason for him to …” Ben paused, as if he were attempting to calm himself. “There’s no reason for him to be alone.”

  “I’m sorry, Ben. Sorry for Ray and what happened and even sorrier that there isn’t a thing we can do about it. But you know this is how it has to be.”

  Jeff could hear the remorse in Michael’s response and shook his head in disbelief. The man was full of shit.

  “He’s already dead, man! Agree to leave his ass out there, and we’ll drop the ladder down to you. Hell! I’ll even come down there and take him out-”

  The words were cut off, but not before Jeff recognized Frank’s sniveling twang. He had totally forgotten about the redneck’s existence, but his voice brought Jeff’s hatred rushing back.

  “Drop the ladder,” Ben repeated in the same calm voice.

  Jeff could see them now and watched the scene unfold from the shadow of the trees. Michael and Frank lay on top of one of the RVs, staring down at Ben, who was directly below them. Ray was propped up against one of the vehicle’s tires. Ben’s fists were clenched as he stood stock still. Jeff could only see his back, but imagined the daggers he was throwing at Michael with his eyes.

  “I’ll drop the ladder if you agree that Ray stays outside,” Michael said, rubbing his chin in contemplation. “You can come back out later if you want to check on him, or Lydia can, if she’s willing to tend to his wounds.” The man’s calm demeanor never changed. “I’m not a bastard, Ben, despite what you might think. I have to look out for the best interests of the people in this camp who haven’t been infected. You know that’s true.”

  “Bullshit!” Jeff yelled, unable to contain himself any longer.

  Michael and Frank’s heads turned as Jeff burst into the clearing. Michael’s eyes widened, but he did not look surprised. Ben must have mentioned that he was still alive.

  Jeff knew he looked like death warmed over. These days, that could be dangerous. Despite his best efforts to wipe away Ray’s blood, it had smeared across his hands and bare chest, mixing with his sweat and the dirt into which he had fallen. He looked like he had crawled out of a shallow grave. The only thing disrupting the image was the long bow he carried. Ben’s giant hunting weapon looked odd in the smaller man’s hands as he moved from the shelter of the trees out into the open.

  “Jeff. It’s good to see you made it back. Looks like you’ve been through hell.” Michael produced a pained smile as he got to his knees. Jeff could see him setting down the M16 as he rose from his prone position.

  Jeff sneered at the leader, his fear gone for the moment. “Well that’s great to hear, Mikey, but how about you toss that ladder down like Ben asked so the three of us can go inside? I’d personally like to grab a shower.” He moved next to Ben and reached up to put his hand on the man’s ample shou
lder as he spoke, patting him like they were best buddies. Ben showed no reaction, his eyes still burning holes through Michael.

  Frank, who was also rising up next to Michael and still had a grip on his shotgun, leaned over to whisper to his boss. Michael raised his hand to interrupt and said something quietly in response. Frank glared down at Jeff and then back at Michael. The greasy hick frowned and nodded begrudgingly as he slipped back out of Jeff’s line of sight.

  Michael smiled. “Jeff, I think you know I have to ask if you’ve been bitten. Have you?”

  Jeff shook his head. “Nope, not bitten. This is all Ray’s blood.” He returned Michael’s smile. “So why don’t you drop that ladder down so we can get back inside and get the boy some real bandages? My shirt ain’t cutting it as a tourniquet.”

  Michael shook his head. Jeff had already heard enough to realize it would be a cold day in hell before the man standing on top of the RV let Ray inside the fortress.

  “Sorry, Jeff. No can do. You’re new here, so I’ll explain things reeeeal slowly for you. Once someone is infected, they are no longer welcome in our little community.” Michael shrugged his shoulders. “Call it a self-preservation policy if you want. We can’t afford to be exposed to infection, and we can’t spare the manpower to guard someone who's been bitten until they turn. Besides, it looks like you got the entire town’s attention. We can’t be dealing with another distraction with all of those bastards out there itching to cause us grief.”

  Jeff kept the smile plastered to his face as he heard moans off in the distance. The infected sounded like they were inching ever closer to the hidden camp. Arguing with Michael was getting him nowhere, and time was running out. Jeff knew the smug bastard would force the issue, with the M16 if necessary, and command him and Ben to come inside while Ray died alone outside. There was no way Jeff was going to let that happen, not after everything he had gone through to get the boy back home. It was time to end this little game once and for all.