Darker Days

by A. J. Powers

  A half hour quickly passed and the light had started to diminish. There wasn’t much sunlight to speak of that day and being among the trees stifled the sun further.

  Forty minutes. It was time to stop, but Clay’s gut told him to keep going. He hated trusting his gut. Not because it was usually wrong—on the contrary, it was often right—but rather the inexplicable instinct typically only came around when it was a life or death decision. And trusting your life on a hunch was never easy.

  Just five more minutes, he told himself, noting a fallen tree that would make an excellent platform for his makeshift lean-to shelter. Megan, the trooper she was, kept pace and kept her concerns to herself. Even though the walk had been nothing short of a pleasant stroll compared to their journey several nights ago, the fact they hadn’t found a place to sleep for the night pecked at her psyche.

  “There!” Clay said excitedly, pointing to a clearing up ahead. “We’re almost out.”

  At the prospect of escaping the woods before nightfall, relief washed over Megan. The clearing provided a sliver of hope that a more-comfortable night was possible.

  Night had all but taken over the sky, giving off just a hint of light that barely illuminated the field just past the clearing. It was bright enough, however, for Clay to see a small cabin on the other side of the field. As they reached the clearing, Clay knelt down in the snow and reached for his binoculars. He observed the cabin for a few minutes, looking for any signs of activity. Whether or not someone lived there wouldn’t change that they were going to walk up to that front porch, but it would change how they approached it.

  All was quiet. “Doesn’t look like anyone’s been there in a while…like, a really long while,” he said, noticing several cords of firewood stacked up along the side of the wooden structure. He spotted what looked like multiple ATVs sitting beneath worn out tarps. It almost looked as if this little oasis had not yet been discovered since the eruptions. With trees completely surrounding the clearing, the only way to see it from the outside was by sky—and it had been quite a while since Clay had seen a plane fly overhead. He looked over at Megan with a smile. “I think we’ve found home for the night.”

  Clay stood up and walked toward the field—Megan followed. As they tromped forward, Clay couldn’t help but daydream about owning a cabin like this in the pre-eruption days. A quaint little cottage in the middle of the nowhere; no loud neighbors, no city pollution. Just him, his family, and a healthy dose of nature. Even now, he would love to stake his claim on the cabin, but a week and a half hike through hell hardly seemed worth it for a family vacation.

  “I am really kicking myself for forgetting that stupid map. This is a find worth saving,” Clay said, trying to recall details of their journey so he could locate this spot on the map when they got back to the FEMA camp.

  “I never really liked the outdoorsy stuff when we were younger,” Megan said. “I never told him, but I loathed the annual camping trips Dad took us on. But, I’ll be honest, if we had had a place like this, I probably wouldn’t have minded so much,” Megan said, her mind in a different time. Clay loved those trips, but he was with his sister—a setup like this would have drastically improved matters.

  Both lost in alternative histories, Clay and Megan marched forward, a little less than half a field separating them from sleep. It was the sudden cracking sound that snapped Clay out of his fantasy, bringing him back to reality. Megan had heard it too—more ominously, she felt it. They both froze in place, Clay slowly turned around.

  Megan looked down, her panicked eyes slowly made their way to Clay’s as a paralyzing fear sunk in. Her chin began to tremble as she took in a shaky breath. “Clay…I don’t think this is a fie—“

  “MEGAN!” Clay shouted just as the ice broke beneath her feet.

  Chapter 38

  “We have to figure out where their camp is,” Kohler insisted, his patience well beyond thin.

  Shelton leaned back in his dining room chair and stared across the table at his good friend Captain Kohler. The two had been at each other’s throats for the past few days—though it had mostly been a one-way street. Shelton had been hesitant to relinquish too much authority to the Army veteran since the war started, a poor choice that was now starting to catch up. It wasn’t that he thought Kohler was incompetent or unwilling to lead the town—quite the opposite, actually—which was why Shelton had been reluctant. He worried that Kohler would look at the situation the same way a General might: do whatever it takes to win. Though every individual under his command had volunteered to stay and fight, they were not soldiers—names and ranks that could be replaced with someone fresh out of boot camp. These were people—members of this community who were husbands, fathers, wives, and mothers. And some of them…some of them were just kids. Shelton was afraid Kohler wouldn’t see them that way if he took over at the helm. But he knew the man better than to think so lowly of him, as he had personally witnessed multiple instances when Kohler successfully walked the tight rope between drill instructor and concerned friend. He never put someone in harm’s way just to gain a slight advantage over the enemy. He was methodical, intentional, and planned tirelessly to avoid casualties. Shelton would have been right to grant such leadership more freedom early on, but he was a day late and a dollar short.

  “I understand that, Captain, but we just don’t have the manpower to spare,” Shelton replied.

  “This is something I brought up with you on day one…”

  “Hindsight is twenty-twenty, Daniel. Don’t you think if I had known then what I know now that I would have given the okay for such an operation?” Shelton responded, matching Kohler’s frustration. “I know that Arlo is a cold, relentless SOB that goes to great lengths to get his way, but I truly thought after encountering some stiff resistance, he would realize that capturing this town wasn’t worth the cost.” A lengthy sigh escaped from Shelton’s lips. “But, I was wrong. Arlo’s not going to stop until he gets this town, and he doesn’t care if it costs him ten or ten-thousand men to accomplish it.”

  Kohler seemed to give a look that said, “I tried to warn you.”

  “Look, I realize now that I should have stepped aside a long time ago and given you the reins. But I can’t change the past.”

  “You can change the future,” Kohler replied. “Give me three men—I already know who I want—and we’ll get it done.”

  Shelton folded his arms as he wrestled over the decision. Once again, he was undermining Kohler’s experience for his own, personal concerns. Either Kohler was not overly concerned with being down a few men for a couple of days or he felt the risks were far outweighed by the reward. Nevertheless, Shelton shook his head. “No, I’m sorry, but I think that would be a mistake. We can’t afford to lose another man for a single day, let alone three.”

  Kohler responded by slamming his fist down on the dining room table. “We will not win this war by constantly trying to stop them from carrying the ball into the end zone. If we can’t get on the offense—and soon—then we would have been better off handing Arlo the keys.”

  Shelton stared down at the walnut table like a troubled boy avoiding an angry father.

  “Look, you were the one who asked me to find a way to get us off our heels. I can’t do that unless we know what we’re up against and how to hit them,” Kohler said calmly, slowly wrangling his anger. “Right now, we’re blind and we can’t keep fighting like that.”

  The weary old man wanted to say yes, but he couldn’t. Not at this point. Not with all the losses they had already suffered and the people laid up in bed from numerous injuries, several of whom would be unable to return to their posts. Clay and Megan’s absence didn’t help matters, either. Shelton had been wrong up to this point, and he was the first to admit it, but he felt confident in this decision.

  “I will consider your request and get back to you first thing in the morning,” Shelton said.

  “I’ve heard that load of crap before,” Kohler said as he kicked back from
the dining room table and stood from his chair. He gave Shelton a disapproving glare for a moment before he turned around and left, slamming the front door for emphasis.

  The man is making a terrible mistake, Kohler thought to himself, shaking his head in disbelief. It was clear that Shelton was doing what he thought was best, but his lack of combat leadership had a detrimental impact on this war. And Kohler had had enough.

  Breaking rank was not a decision Kohler took lightly, even in the ad-hoc militia he was currently serving in. He understood the value of the chain of command, and that every link, no matter how high up they were, must respect the one above it. Kohler had fully embraced this mentality within a few hours of stepping off the bus at Fort Sill, which is why he had bitten his tongue for so long with Shelton. In their current hierarchy, it was not for Kohler to make those calls, but rather provide Shelton with pertinent information from a veteran’s perspective. Beyond that, he would be stepping out of line. But the time for chain of command was over. If there was any chance of them winning this war, he had to stop asking for permission and just act. And just before sundown, the captain would give his first unsanctioned order.

  As he reached for the door, a part of him wanted to just turn around and leave. Even under such dire circumstances, he hated the idea of going against a direct order, especially from a man he greatly respected. But Shelton had asked him to lead the town to victory, and that was what he would do.

  He stepped inside and gently shut the door. It was getting late, so the only noise in the room was from Kohler’s worn out combat boots lightly treading the wooden floor. He walked across the room and stopped next to her bed. He sat down in the chair Shelton had used that morning.

  Lying in bed, Dusty stared into his bloodshot eyes. His grim expression had her both concerned and excited. “What is it?” she asked.

  Kohler exhaled deeply through his nose. “Are you ready to take the fight to them?”

  ****

  After a fierce battle that had lasted nearly ten minutes, Kelsey finally gave up. The stain on the quilt held its ground and the weary mother had no more fight left in her. Conceding defeat, she spread the large, white blanket across the living room floor to dry out in front of the fireplace.

  When Kelsey got down on the floor to stretch out each corner of the blanket, she caught Madeline looking her way—that same, hopeless expression plastered on her face. Kelsey’s heart ached for the girl. It was bad enough she had to experience firsthand just how dark a man’s heart could be. But locking the pain away with no way to escape was only adding to her agony. Kelsey was intimately familiar with such despair; it was a miracle that she had been able to escape it. But Kelsey had had something that Madeline seemed to be missing, something she didn’t even seem to want.

  Hope.

  Kelsey had tried to help ever since they got back to Northfield, and all she got in return was silence. It felt wrong to write the girl off, but Kelsey’s own family needed her undivided attention. They were her priority.

  “Chip, get off!” Kelsey said, shooing away the little dog that had assumed Kelsey had spread the nice, big blanket on the ground for his benefit. Chip let out an irritated growl that was about as threatening as a hamster. Kelsey shook her head, “Devil dog, indeed.”

  “Mom!” Dakota called from the top of the stairs. “He’s sick again!”

  Kelsey pushed off the living room floor and stumbled to her feet. Exhausted, she ran up the stairs, heading to the bedroom. Covered in vomit, Charles screamed helplessly in bed, the three-year-old unable to fully comprehend what was happening to him. In outer appearance only, Kelsey calmly got him out of his soiled pajamas and cleaned his face before picking him up.

  The boy was burning up and there was nothing she could do about it. Charles wasn’t the first to get hit with the virus terrorizing Northfield, and he probably wouldn’t be the last. The good news was that it only seemed to last forty-eight hours. The bad news was every one of those hours was loaded with misery.

  “It’s okay, baby,” Kelsey said as she tried to lull him back to sleep. “Shhhhh, you’ll feel better soon. I promise.”

  Charles quickly calmed down from the soothing touch that only a mother had. He quietly laid his head on Kelsey’s shoulder, only the occasional sniffle breaking the silence as he drifted back to sleep.

  “Can you go find him something to wear, please?” Kelsey said to Dakota.

  “Okay,” she said as she turned to go rummage through the closet.

  Kelsey glanced over at Bethany on a small cot. Amazingly, she was still sound asleep even after Charles’s screams. That kid could sleep through a tornado, Kelsey thought.

  Even though she stared down both barrels of yet another long, sleepless night, Kelsey was just glad to have the day behind her. A few nights ago, the wind sent some debris crashing into Rudy’s pen, breaking the wooden fence and allowing the cow to escape. This morning they found a pack of feral dogs feasting on her for breakfast. Even though the failed search and rescue mission turned into a successful emergency butchering, there was a legitimate concern that the dogs might have tainted the meat with a number of diseases. Therefore, it was unanimously decided that the meat would not be dispersed among the people until starvation was imminent. The meat was stored in a large freezer chest sitting outside the workshop, snow and ice packing every spare inch of space on the inside.

  The news of Rudy’s death—and her meat possibly being spoiled—devastated the community and stirred up angst among both residents and guests alike. Hunting and even scavenging teams had already been working overtime trying to replenish the dwindling food supply, but even a good-sized buck would only stretch so far with so many hungry mouths to feed. Though the hunters had some success, and with each kill came some respite, the reality of the situation was one step forward, three back.

  Then, shortly after lunch, two boys from Liberty started roughhousing, and the younger of the two ended up smashing through Kelsey’s living room window, slicing his arm wide open. The amount of blood looked like something out of a horror movie, and if it hadn’t been for Lona’s quick first-aid response, things could have turned out much worse for the poor boy. The blood-soaked hardwood floor would remain a permanent reminder of this dreadful day.

  To top everything off, there was a kitchen fire in the main house. It wasn’t anything too serious, and nobody was hurt, but Ruth did have to use some flour—a commodity they were nearly out of—to put it out. They tried to salvage as much as they could, but they easily lost two or three loaves of bread out of it, which was no small thing during such lean times.

  So, to end the day with her baby boy spiking a fever and throwing up just seemed par for the course. Kelsey was not just deflated; she was utterly demoralized. Her thoughts of her husband had gone from a longing desire to feel his embrace to a hostile bitterness over his absence. She needed him at Northfield helping to take care of his own family, not risking his life to fight someone else’s war. Deep down she knew she was being selfish, but she didn’t care—especially not as she clung to her sick toddler.

  Kelsey laid Charles down on the floor so she could change the bed sheets. It was the last clean pair she had, after that only the mattress pad would separate the mattress from devastation. With Charles tucked back into bed and Dakota reading by candlelight in the corner, Kelsey climbed into bed, getting her feet off the ground for the very first time all day.

  Though her body wouldn’t allow her to forget the day’s labor, sleep would come fast. Just as her eyes closed, there was a knock at the door.

  What now, Kelsey screamed inside her head. She considered ignoring the request, but then another light rap on the door made her get out of bed. “I don’t have it in me tonight,” she said under her breath as she made her way to the door. She thought about the scathing words she might deliver to the unfortunate soul on the other side who had disturbed what little precious sleep she might actually get.

  Suddenly, as if the pain in her body had ceas
ed to exist, as if every worry, concern, or frustration fled her mind, Kelsey stood in the doorway in shock.

  “I know it’s late, but I was wondering if you had a few minutes to talk?”

  Kelsey’s thunderstruck look shifted to a tired smile. And at that moment, a sense of peace blanketed her heart. “Of course, I do, Madeline.”

  It was a good day.

  Chapter 39

  The air was stolen from her lungs the instant her head fell beneath the surface. The shock of the sudden environment change gave her the sensation that she was both upside down while also lying flat on her back. Her arms and legs felt as if they were covered with millions of vicious stinging wasps depleting their venom. The excruciating pain would have triggered a bout of vomiting if her brain wasn’t already overloaded processing everything else. After several agonizing seconds, the stinging trailed off, and the numbness swooped in, bringing a terrifying relief as her body started to shut down. Though all the thoughts in her head were little more than static, a moment of rational, coherent thinking could be heard over the white noise, demanding she kick her legs and swing her arms. She complied.

  As Megan’s head came out of the water, she gasped for air as if she was taking her first breath of life. She thrashed around the surface, desperately seeking refuge from the biting cold that grew more intense by the second, but her hands only found more broken ice.

  She heard a voice screaming; it sounded like Dad, but she knew it couldn’t have been him—he was already gone for the day. Maybe he took the day off.

  Megan’s body waved the white flag. The brief but vigorous battle had drained what little energy she had left to fight. As her lungs deflated, she began to sink back down to the abyss below, her body no longer fighting.

  Clay spread himself out, distributing his weight across as much snowy ice as possible in hopes that he wouldn’t also break through. As his sister began to slip below the surface of the water again, Clay grasped her wrist and stopped her descent. With no real leverage to utilize, he growled violently as he relied solely on his biceps to pull Megan up, barely getting her head above the water. She gasped again as the frigid air painfully refilled her lungs. Having thrown in the towel already, Megan’s near-lifeless body was only kept afloat by Clay’s fading strength.