The Dark Trilogy

by Patrick D'orazio

  Why am I afraid of him?

  “Because of the dreams you’ve had about me since I’ve been gone.”

  Megan saw the sadness in his eyes.

  “What … what dreams are you talking about?”

  Dalton looked uncomfortable, his feet shifting underneath him as he stared at the floor. “The ones where I come back to kill you.”

  *

  They were sitting at the kitchen table. The space was light and airy, with the sliding back door that went down to their little patio behind them. Megan thought it was kind of strange that all the boards that had been put up to make sure the exit was secure were gone, but it was nice to look out on their back yard. The kitchen was nice and tidy, as was the family room. That was how she liked it, and she always did her best to keep up with the cleaning. But something was out of place.

  “This is a dream.”

  Megan’s head swiveled around toward her husband. The bullet hole was gone and he was in his old ‘work around the yard’ clothes. A ratty t-shirt and his baggy shorts with the paint stains on them. She stared at him, trying to take in the changes that had taken place in him since … since they had been down in the basement.

  How long ago was that?

  “It was just a few seconds ago, sweetie.”

  “Stop doing that!”

  Megan stood up, nearly knocking her chair over as she rushed to the kitchen. She made for the sink, her hands shaking as she grabbed a cup out of the strainer and held it under the spout. When she lifted it, nothing came out.

  “There’s no water, babe.”

  Dalton did not try to dodge the cup as it sailed toward his head. It bounced off his shoulder and rattled to the ground. He didn’t even blink.

  “What are you trying to do to me?” The words came out in a single blast of confusion and rage as Megan gesticulated frantically with her bird-thin arms. “What the hell is going on around here, Dalton? What’s happening to me?”

  Megan felt her legs weakening beneath her, and she slid to the floor.

  “What am I doing here?”

  Dalton walked over to her. “You are trying to block out what’s happening to you. You don’t want to think about it or feel it. So your mind just shut down, and tada! You were here, in the safest place you know.”

  Megan listened to the vague words and tried to understand what they meant. “Is that all you can tell me?” She couldn’t keep the resentment out of her voice.

  Dalton knelt down in front of her. She lifted her head and looked into his eyes. “But Megan, you already know all you need to know. You don’t need me to tell you a thing.”

  She wanted to get angry, indignant. Throw out a scathing remark or yell at him. Anything to get him to give her a better answer. She didn’t like playing these cutesy games with Dalton. But when she opened her mouth, nothing came out. She knew that he was right.

  “Megan!”

  The shouted word sent a ripple of shock through Megan’s body.

  “You can’t stay here! You came here to escape the pain, but you have to go back, now!”

  Dalton was standing, pulling her up with him. The sudden change in his demeanor was more than startling; it frightened her terribly.

  “But I don’t want to go back! I don’t even know what I’m going back to, because you won’t tell me!”

  “Megan!”

  Her husband shook her, rattling her teeth. She looked at him, not even sure who he was. Other faces swam before her eyes. A man who was not her husband, but someone for whom she cared a great deal … a boy … an African American boy with gentle eyes … a little girl with long blond hair.

  She broke free of her husband’s grasp. Stepping backwards, she shook her head violently. “No. No, no, no. I DON’T WANT TO GO BACK!”

  Dalton didn’t move. “They need you, Megan. You have to go back.”

  “But I want to stay here with you!”

  He was already starting to fade. His voice was a whisper as she watched his eyes. She could see the rest of the kitchen and the table behind him, but they weren’t much more substantial than he was.

  “Remember, my love, this is just a dream. You can only dream for so long, and then you have to wake up.”

  Megan closed her eyes, and she could see it all. The children, Jason, the monsters coming for them. They were there, suffering alongside her. Waiting to die. Looking to her for a little comfort while they still lived. Just a few moments of pain, and it would all be over.

  She opened her eyes. Dalton stood right in front of her, his face only a few inches away from hers, his eyes wide open. The bullet wound in his forehead had reappeared. Her heart stopped.

  “MEGAN!” he shouted at her.

  She began to scream.

  *

  “Megan!”

  She kept her eyes shut, her heart racing as she bit down on the scream. She was huddled with the children crammed between her, Jason, and the glass wall of the donut shop. The noise surrounding her was so loud that it felt like another wall closing in, pressing up against her back. Swimming through that noise were clammy claws, coming to rip her away from those she was trying to protect, claws that would pull her out into the crowd. She wondered if she would manage to keep her eyes closed as rotten teeth sank into on the flesh of her arms, legs, breasts. Perhaps, if she was lucky, the bellows from dead throats saturated with her blood and bits of meat might drown out the last sounds of the children as they were torn apart alongside her.

  “Megan!”

  She closed her eyes tighter, and she wanted to cover her ears, but could feel Jason twisting away from her. She tried to get a grip on him, but he freed himself. Megan whimpered but still refused to open her eyes as she held onto the other children.

  She felt a hand on her shoulder a few seconds later, and she almost screamed as she was pulled around. Opening her eyes was almost an involuntary reflex. It was Jason, standing in front of her and pointing, his eyes filled with excitement.

  “MEGAN, God dammit! Please!”

  It wasn’t Jason speaking. He was already gawking at the sea of bodies milling around them. Megan didn’t want to do the same, but she forced her eyes to stay open.

  All her nightmares were arrayed before her; it was like a single organism made up of everyone who had ever been consumed by the super-virus. Appendages swayed and flapped like tentacles writhing on some dark beast out of the abyss, hypnotically gesturing for Megan to join them in their agony. It tasted the air, seeking out warm flesh. It would not just consume her and the children—it would absorb them so they could become one with it. Her chest shuddered as she took the graveyard air into her lungs and looked out at the monstrous legion arrayed against them. The shock to her system came not only from the infected in front of her, though it was obliterating in its potency, but from realizing that while they flowed and rippled all around her, their animosity and their ferocity were directed not just at her, but in several different directions.

  “Ben?”

  Megan did not hear the tentative word that spilled from Jason’s lips, but watched in amazement as the behemoth of a man burst through a tightly knit crowd of ghouls nearby. They were debris before him, dried-out autumn leaves that crunched and crumbled as he bellowed in rage and slapped them out of the way. His voice overwhelmed all the keening and crying that surrounded him.

  It dawned on Megan that his voice was the noise she had heard before—the roar she believed was the sound of the mob closing in on them. It was, in fact, the angry bellow of the man currently barreling into three persistent attackers. As they fell to the ground, Ben stomped on the revenants, using his mass to crush their skulls beneath his giant boot heel.

  “MEGAN!”

  Her head whipped around as she heard her name once again. Megan felt dizzy and feared it was just her mind playing tricks, as it had to be with Ben. Then she saw something: a shape gliding quickly through the crowd. Her eyes darted back and forth, trying to catch another glimpse as she clung to the children.
<
br />   “Megan, over here!”

  Megan’s world froze as her eyes found the spot from which the voice came. A clash of emotions, of agony and euphoria, spilled over her as she saw a face above the crowd, somehow floating above everyone else. It was a face she knew well.

  It was Jeff.

  Time snapped back into place as Jason grabbed her by the arm and spun her around. “It’s Ben! It’s Ben!” He was trying to straighten out his lame arm and point as he hopped up and down. Megan nodded, but she did not turn, fearful that Jeff would dissolve, reveal himself as a figment of her imagination if she broke eye contact with him.

  Jason was confused by how unimpressed Megan was at the startling news. But as he followed her eyes, his knees nearly gave out. Instead, he pumped his fist and whooped in delight.

  His excitement convinced Megan that Jeff was no mirage. He was still there, standing on top of a station wagon, swinging a long metal pole above his head and trying to get her attention. He was above the crowd, across the street. Megan waved as Jason continued to holler in celebration. The cheer was cut off as they saw the metal pole come crashing down on a woman’s head. She had been trying to crawl on top of the Taurus to get at Jeff, but now slumped back to the ground.

  Megan kept her eyes focused on Jeff while Jason looked back and forth between the two men. A cold revelation gripped her: their friends were trying to save her and the children, but were committing suicide to do so. The station wagon on which Jeff stood would be completely surrounded soon. She moved away from the safety of the donut shop toward him, letting go of the small hands wrapped in her own without even realizing it, until Jason grabbed her arm, pulling her back. Megan glared in anger at him until she saw the look of fear on his face. She looked down at the children and realized what she had been about to do.

  They stood and watched, helpless, as the two madmen kept the crowd’s attention. Ben picked up a police officer and raised him, squirming, over his head. He had the ghoul by the throat and crotch, and the giant was not straining a bit as he launched the cop, flailing limbs and all, into a group of five incoming stiffs that had made the mistake of being clumped too close together. Still, more of the squirming forms in the street were coming for Ben.

  The same could be said for Jeff, who jumped off the car and ran screaming like a wild man as a wake of corrupt bodies followed. He shifted gears and turned sharply to avoid another group, swinging his oversized weapon at a man wearing the remains of a three-piece suit. The blow was only glancing, flattening the businessman’s partially detached ear, but it was enough to allow Jeff to get by. He ran, sliding through clusters of agitated bodies reaching out for him.

  Megan grimaced as she saw that there were still small pockets of rotters not taking the bait and ignoring the two men. Some were starting to notice the quiet group huddled against the wall again.

  “They’re still coming for us.”

  Jason forced his eyes away from Ben and tracked the rest of the crowd. At least a couple dozen ghouls would be on top of them in less than a minute if they didn’t get moving soon.

  As he continued to stare at the crowd, Megan felt the tug of a small hand on her arm. She didn’t want to look away from the hypnotic advance of bodies; she tried to ignore the sensation, but it was persistent. She looked down to see Sadie’s big round eyes staring up at her.

  “Is Ben going to save us?”

  Megan’s heart was already shattered into a hundred pieces, but the desperate plea crushed her even more. Sadie tried waving at Ben, but it came as no surprise that the man did not see her. Nathan and Joey were catatonic with fear while the little girl seemed very aware of what was happening.

  Jason heard the question and turned to Megan, who could feel the weight of both sets of eyes waiting for her answer. She opened her mouth, trying to force something out, but she could find no words. Taking a shuddering breath, Megan tried to see where Jeff had gone, but she couldn’t spot him.

  “Megan, Jason! This way!”

  Megan wanted to scream in surprise at the new voice coming from her left, near Ben, but she had nothing remaining inside that would allow her to do so. Almost as if she had no will of her own, she turned in the direction of the voice.

  It was George. Of course it was George. Jason was already moving toward the man, dragging Nathan, who followed like a robot. The boy moved his feet, but his stunned face showed no reaction to the potential rescue. George was at the corner of the building, in the gap between the donut and curio shops, waving them forward. Ben had moved the crowd far enough away from the strip of asphalt between the two buildings that the little group of survivors could squirm through.

  Megan felt nauseated as she moved, grabbing Joey and Sadie’s hands and pulling them beside her at a half run. She understood now: Ben and Jeff were the bait so George could get them out of there. Her eyes remained focused on him as her heart flooded with guilt at the thought of the other two men’s sacrifice.

  George was drenched with sweat, and his shirt was ripped, but he looked okay. He was toting another large piece of wood. It looked cracked and abused, ready to shatter, but menacing all the same.

  Jason crashed into George, hugging him with his good arm. The big man’s expression changed to relief as he returned the affectionate embrace. There was a smile on his face as he looked past the boy to Megan. For a moment, the smile faltered as the two adults shared a brief, sad moment.

  They both understood. As Megan came trotting up, there was no need for words. Whatever regrets either of them had needed to be put aside. They could pray for the survival of the other two men later. For now, all they could concern themselves with was making their escape from this deathtrap.

  They moved around the corner toward the rear of the shop. They were only a few seconds ahead of the advancing horde.

  Chapter 18

  The small group of survivors disappeared from view. Several of the rigor-riddled forms that had been advancing toward them when they were stationary immediately lost interest and shifted their attention to Ben, who was not too far away and didn’t seem interested in fleeing. His scent was far too tantalizing to resist.

  Most of the revenants broke off their pursuit of Megan and the others, but a few continued moving toward the gap between the buildings. The one leading the way was not as stiff limbed, though she was just as maimed as the others. Her wounds were fresh. A spray of blood from the shredded muscles in her legs, arms, and face served as a bright decoration on her torn clothing.

  The gray-haired woman tried to moan through a broken and dangling jaw. A bubbling hiss was all that came up from her throat, but it was enough to attract several other ghouls nearby. She had the scent of the children on her. It was a rich, sweet aroma that excited them as they followed her between the buildings toward their prey.

  Chapter 19

  Jeff took a frantic swing at a stiff-necked farmer standing in front of him. Solitary ghouls that interrupted his movements were becoming less the norm. The pole sent its vibrating message of agony down his arms as it connected solidly with the left side of the man’s head and sent him staggering. It gave Jeff the moment he needed to slide past.

  The gaps in the crowd were shrinking. Everywhere there were islands of moving shapes. Two or three clumped together, forcing him to barrel through them with the hope that his diminishing speed and power would prove sufficient to force his way to the next vacant spot. As he moved, so did the crowd, contorting and twisting to block his progress.

  ***

  He was still trying to figure out how he had gotten here. When Ben found him and George, pulling them out of the sticky mess they had gotten themselves into near the cracked-up Mercedes, there had been little time for greetings. Ben had breathlessly told them that he thought he knew where the others were, and they were off and running.

  They were amazed as he took them on a twisting route that avoided nearly all of the lumps of infected bodies. He picked his way around the town, slipping into various buildings and pop
ping out onto other streets that were clear of traffic. All the while, the noise grew greater as they got closer to where their guide thought Megan and the children might be. Ben knew the town like the back of his hand and had been trying to track everyone’s movements almost since the moment he had left the RV. He confirmed that Frank was dead and was able to guess Michael’s fate as well. When they asked about Cindy, he had no answers, which made them move even faster.

  When they finally spotted the others, it was already too late for Lydia. The three men watched from their hiding place across the street, shell shocked, as a crowd of undead tore her to pieces.

  There was no time to mourn her death when they saw the rest of the group standing against the wall of the donut shop. Ben made the quick decision that George would guide Megan and the children to safety while he and Jeff would lure the mob away from them.

  When George tried to protest, Ben bluntly stated, “You have a family out there. If you ever want to see them again, I suggest you shut the fuck up and do as I say.”

  That ended the argument before it even began.

  Jeff remembered clasping hands with George moments later as he prepared to exit the building behind Ben, who had torn across the street, whooping and hollering like a lunatic.

  “Take good care of them, okay?”

  Before George could respond to the request, Jeff turned, rushing out of the building in Ben’s wake. The metal post he was carrying whistled through the air and came down on the skull of the first ghoul he came across.

  ***

  Jeff glanced around, his head on a pivot. Distant doorways beckoned. They teased and tempted him, but might as well have been a thousand miles away for all the hazardous terrain he would have to cross to get to them. A sudden wave of panic came and went as he lost sight of George and the others. Fighting to remain focused on his own problems, Jeff hoped that the little group had escaped the mess surrounding him and Ben as he dodged another grasping hand.