“Springsdale.”
“Oh ok. I’ve never heard of that place. Is it far from here?”
“About an hour,” Jon said. He didn’t want to talk about it.
Everyone had their snacks and drinks and regrouped back at the help desk where Kevin watched the news and sipped his bottle of water. Now there was a brown-haired anchorwoman on the screen talking with those same images split screened beside her.
“It appears that the rioting has ceased at this moment,” the woman said. “As you can see from our live footage, there are mass casualties not only in Los Angeles but also in other major cities around the country. There are also reports coming from Europe. We urge all of our American viewers to remain inside as we have yet to find a definite cause for all of this. We’re not sure how this happened or if it’s come to a permanent end so please stay with us as we bring you more information. The White House has released an official statement. . . ”
“So still no answers huh?” Dan said as he failed to get a hold of his dad or stepmom on the phone. He slammed the flip phone’s top down again.
“Nope. Nothing. I’ve been watching it all morning. I even switched between news stations and none of them seem to have a clue what’s going on,” Kevin said and took a big swig of water. “I think if we go to Emily and I’s dorm rooms, we should either come back here and stay for the night or all try to drive. What do you guys think?”
Jon wanted to scream LET’S GO HOME! LET’S ALL GO HOME AND FIND OUR FAMILIES! The library was a prison and Jon was desperate to get out. But he kept his mouth shut and let the others speak instead. They each seemed level-headed enough and Jon needed to act the same.
“Do we know if the roads are safe?” Emily asked.
“Good question,” Mark said. “When we head out again, we should head out of the parking lot and see what the road looks like. Shawn seemed to get out alright. I’d imagine it’s gotta be safe on the main road for a little bit. Remember we heard his engine fade away? He might have been able to get on the turnpike at least.”
“Yeah,” Dan said, “and if it was blocked or somethin’ he probably would have come back to us.”
“I don’t know. I saw some pictures of highways stopped. Cars backed up for miles on major roadways,” Kevin said while he pulled out his iPhone. “Look at this.” He had the Facebook app open now and it showed a picture posted from behind the wheel of a car stuck in stopped traffic. Bumper to bumper as far as the eye could see. “A guy I went to grade school with lives in Atlanta and this is right outside of the city, headed south.”
“Holy smokes,” Dan said as he ate at another crumbly granola bar.
Jon, Mark, and Emily all pulled out their phones and opened their own Facebook feeds to reveal similar posts. Dan was the odd one out as his flip phone had no features other than a calculator and a stopwatch. He sat and feasted on his snacks as the rest of them showed pictures and told the tales of their online friends. Traffic. Death. Fires. Blood. Bodies. It was all on display for social media and they each had a front-row seat.
“It can’t be as bad as Atlanta or LA. I mean, this is central PA we’re talking about. None of us are going to Philadelphia or Pittsburgh, right?” Emily asked. Her phone shook in her trembling hand. The graphic posts seemed to pull her back into her frightened phase.
“No, but Camp Valley doesn’t look good either,” Mark said, showing a photo someone posted of Slick Willy’s Wings parking lot stained in red as bodies lay thrown on the asphalt.
They all took deep, sickening breaths.
“It’s only gonna get worse, isn’t it?” Emily said to herself with her eyes looking past her phone and into the void.
“Only if we stay here,” Jon said. “The roads may be good enough to travel if we stay off the major highways and only use the back roads.”
“If that’s the case, then we should leave soon. Ya know, before the sun goes down,” Kevin said with his eyes still on his phone with his finger swiping up on the screen. “It wouldn’t be wise to be outside at night it seems. Based on the news and the pictures on here.”
Perfect.
Jon finished his bag of Doritos and crumpled it up. He tossed it in the trash bin underneath the help desk. His fingertips were covered in orange dust. “I’ll be right back guys. I’m gonna wash my hands.”
The rest of the group stayed and talked about their plan to leave while Jon walked past the shattered vending machines toward the men’s room. He pushed the door open. The scent of urinal cakes filled his nostrils as he stepped on the wet floor underneath the florescent lights. Three urinals lined the wall next to three tan-colored stalls.
Jon pushed the cold-water handle with the base of his palm. The water came out unevenly. He wet his hands and went to pump some soap from the wall-mounted dispenser but stopped as his eyes looked into the mirror. His heart stopped. Behind him in the farthest stall, the handicapped stall, he could see shoes beneath the metal door. A pair of jeans and underwear were pulled down around sneakers. Jon’s mouth moved but words didn’t come out at first. He froze with his hand still underneath the soap dispenser.
“He-he-hello?” he uttered.
No reply. Jon pumped the soap and finished washing his hands with his eyes fixated to the mirror, not looking away from the stall.
“Hello?” He said it louder now.
Still no reply.
“Are you ok in there? Hello?”
Jon turned off the water and pulled loads of paper towels out of the dispenser with his head turned almost all the way around at the stall. Like an owl. He knew he didn’t want to, and the idea seemed disgusting, but he approached the door to the stall and peeked into the crack between the door and the stall wall.
It looked like a large-bellied guy had fallen asleep on the toilet. He was wearing a white polo shirt with red and green stripes on it and a blue ball cap on his head. His eyes were closed, and his mouth hung open. Jon could hear him breathing. Fast asleep. Just like Michael in the cruiser and the others by the dorm buildings. Fast asleep or in a coma.
Jon walked backward from the stall and left. He swung the bathroom door open and was fast walking back to the group, who all turned around at the sound of his quick steps.
“Everything come out okay?” Dan asked.
“There’s a guy in one of the stalls. He’s asleep on the toilet,” Jon replied.
“Are you serious?” Mark looked puzzled for a moment, checking to see if Jon was messing with them.
“I am. You want to see for yourself?” A look of worry popped on everyone’s face as Jon projected his fear onto them.
Mark and Dan both got up and ran by Jon toward the bathroom. Jon followed.
Chapter SIXTEEN
What Comes Next
“How do you think he got in there?” Emily asked. She was now speaking without that fun and pep in the step attitude. She held her knees against her chest as she sat on top of the help desk again.
“He must’ve been in there before we got in last night,” Mark said.
“If that’s the case, he must’ve been in there long before we showed up,” Kevin proclaimed. “The library closes at ten o’clock. We weren’t in here until after eleven, almost twelve I think. He was in that stall while this place was being closed down.”
“Where was the janitor? Isn’t he usually here at night? Wouldn’t he have had made the rounds in the bathrooms and noticed him there?” Dan asked.
“Yeah,” Kevin replied. “Maybe the janitor wasn’t around yesterday. I don’t remember seeing him.”
Mark was shaking his head. “I can’t believe it. I took a piss in that bathroom and I didn’t even notice. No clue someone was in there.”
“I wouldn’t have noticed either, but I saw his feet in the corner of my eye when I looked in the mirror,” Jon said. “If you were using the urinals you probably wouldn’t have even guessed someone was there.”
The group went quiet for a moment. All of them were thinking of what to do next.
<
br /> “What if he wakes up?” Emily asked, breaking the silence. She was running her fingers through her hair right by the blue-dyed streak.
“Well.” Mark sighed again. “We might have to lock him in there somehow. Keep the bathroom door shut so he can’t get out.”
“How we gonna do that?” Dan was scratching his matted hair again. Even though he showered, the John Deere hat made his hair look unkempt. “Does Kev have a key for that?”
Kevin shook his head. “The janitor has those sorts of keys. My keys only work for the regular doors.”
“Shit,” Mark said with gritted teeth.
“Sorry.” Kevin shrugged his shoulders. “What can we do?”
The news kept on playing in the background. Those same images and video replays were being shown. The volume was down, almost to a mute. Mark looked at it and let out another sigh. He pitched his plan. “We better head outside now and see if it’s clear to drive. Dan and I will run and check the road. The rest of you get Kevin and Emily’s stuff and start bringing it back here. Then, if the road is cleared, we will call you so you can head straight to your cars and gun it out of here. What do you guys think? I don’t think it’d be a good idea to be in here with that big boy in the stall much longer. Just another problem to worry about.”
“Sounds good to me,” Dan said.
“Wait,” Kevin said. “We’re just going to leave him here?”
“What else are we going to do? If the police or somebody eventually shows up, they’ll find him,” Emily said. “Besides, Mark and Dan said they couldn’t get the other sleeping people outside to wake up, right? I’m not gonna touch the guy with his pants down. I’m not a doctor. He’s not my responsibility or any of yours.”
Emily’s words met no argument. Not because they weren’t empathetic, but because they came out of fear and exhaustion. There would be no use going back and forth. Besides, what would they do with him? The idea of waiting for him to wake up was not an attractive thought for anyone.
The rest of the group agreed with leaving the mysterious toilet man behind. They all began to get up from where they were, brushing off the chip and pretzel crumbs. Kevin took a final swig from his bottle of water. Mark, Dan, and Jon moved all their bags closer to the doors to the library, making it easier for them to grab when they came back.
Finally, time to go home.
Chapter SEVENTEEN
Workin’ Late
The clock read 12:46 AM when the headlights of Big Jon’s Ford Escape beamed up and made shadows streak on the poster of Blade in Little Jon’s bedroom. Little Jon paused his game and peeked out the window. He glanced down to see the black Ford parked in the driveway beneath a spotlight of one of the many orange glowing streetlamps that lined the cul-de-sac. The engine was humming.
Little Jon squinted through his tired and video gamed eyes to see his father fetching something from the trunk. A large, plastic bag with a long, brown cardboard box hanging half outside of it. Little Jon tried to read the lettering on the bag, but Big Jon put it back into the trunk and took the entire box out before Little Jon could decipher it.
Big Jon shut the trunk of the Escape slowly so as to not wake the neighbors or their dogs. Holding the long box on his side, he walked up the little concrete pathway from the driveway to the porch.
With the video game paused, the Barnes’ house was silent. That was until the faint jingle and jangle of keys came from the other side of the front door. There was nothing quite as familiar as the sound of his father’s keys jangling as he bounced them in his palm looking for the right one. A brass key with a circular top, covered in a green, rubber protector.
Little Jon knew that when he heard that sound, his father was home and everything and everyone would be fine. Safe.
Chapter EIGHTEEN
A Good Snooze
The sky above began to turn grey as clouds formed over the blue. The sun shined down through the holes in the puffs above. It was hot outside.
Mark and Dan weren’t even halfway to their cars before Mark started to get tired. His eyes became heavy like they had iron lids. It was taking more and more strength to keep them open as he and Dan ran on the asphalt roadway that Shawn’s Volkswagen sped down only a few hours ago.
“When we get out there on the road, I’ll drive east if you wanna to go west. That way we can get an idea of what our options are. It’ll be quick, and if we’re fast enough, we might have time to help the rest of the guys out,” Dan said without looking over to Mark.
“Uh-huh. That works,” Mark sluggishly said in response.
“You alright, man? Everything good?” Dan asked after noticing Mark’s pace was slowing down. Dan was now a couple of feet ahead of him.
“Yeah, yeah. I’m good. I’m just a. . . I don’t know. Maybe I didn’t eat enough. Blood sugar must be low. . . or something. My energy’s a little low. Just a little low.” Mark tried to speed up his walking but found his knees getting weaker. His running was transitioning into sloppy motions. “Hold on. Hold on,” he said, now sounding out of breath.
“You wanna sit down for a sec? You need some water?” Dan asked as he stopped running and turned back toward Mark.
“Yeah, let me just catch my breath. Hold on. Whew.” Mark walked over to the concrete curb as if he were walking on two accordions. Sitting down the curb, he let out another exhausted breath and lay back on the warm grass.
“It is heatin’ up out here. Maybe a storm’s comin’. What did you eat? A bag of chips? I saw you drinkin’ water,” Dan said, removing his John Deere hat for a moment to move his hair around. He squinted at Mark, who nodded back to him.
“Just go ahead. I-I’ll catch up,” Mark uttered.
“If you wanna take a breather for a sec, we can get you back into the library. Maybe you wanna rest in my truck? I’ll pull it right up for ya.”
Mark nodded his head again in response. “Yeah go ahead. I will be right there.” His eyes struggled to stay open. It wasn’t the heat from the sun that popped its head through the clouds, but sudden exhaustion from within. Genuine tiredness. He wanted to lay back on the green grass behind the curb and close his eyes all the way for the moment. Just a moment. A second really. And that’s what he did as Dan said something again to him. Mark couldn’t make it out. It didn’t sound like words. Womp womp womp womp, Dan said to him, just like the parents from the old Charlie Brown cartoons.
All Mark could see before he fell into sleep was the wavy vision of Dan running away from him, toward the rows of cars to fetch his pickup. The bright sun spun behind a cumulonimbus. It rotated around in the sky until the darkness of his eyelids covered the day with a heavy sheet of black.
The phone in Mark’s pocket began to vibrate while it played a ringtone, a rhythm of beeps and boops. Dan’s truck revved in the distance as Mark lay there, fast asleep with his back on the grassy hill behind the library. The heels of his flip flops were resting on the curb. He was unaffected by the feeling or sound of the phone coming from his shorts or the engine from the lot. The phone rang and buzzed for half a minute until it stopped. Mark’s chest rose and fell under the bright and heat-filled sun. A cloud passed by the rays, casting a shadow on everything for a moment.
Dan pulled up by the curb behind the wheel of his green, 1999 Chevy pickup. It looked well taken care of even though it was two decades old. Unchipped and pristine green glistened in the last of the shiny sunlight before another cloud took over. You’d think this country boy would have a mud-splattered and dirt-stained truck, but it looked like it could’ve traveled in time from the 90s. Straight off the car lot and into the 21st century.
Bringing the truck up to the curb, Dan saw Mark was fast asleep. His body didn’t stir when Dan’s green machine pulled up with a country CD spilling out a song about girls and beer.
“Buddy, yalright?” Dan asked through the open window of the driver's side.
Mark could only respond with his sleeping silence.
Dan jumped out of the pickup and beg
an poking and shaking Mark’s body, failing to get any rise out of him. He put his head on his chest. Thump thump. Thump thump. There was a regular pulse on his wrist. He was alive.
“Mark, c’mon man. Wake up! We gotta get movin’!” Dan gave his friend a gentle slap on the face. It didn’t stir him.
Dan drew a long breath and blew it out from his dried lips. He hunched over behind Mark and picked him up from under his armpits. Like a dead deer, Mark provided no help. Dan shuffled back and forth as Mark’s body dangled from head to toe.
The flip flops on Mark’s feet skidded on the asphalt as the blacktop stained his heels. Dan brought him around the truck and lifted with all his might to bring Mark’s body onto the passenger seat. He was heavy, but Dan had wrestled with pigs and cows that were double Mark’s size.
“There you go. Now let’s get you strapped in,” Dan said, patting Mark’s chest. He pulled across the seatbelt and clicked it in the red latch.
***
The road seemed clear to the east as far he could tell, but the west was another story. When Dan drove in that direction, near the White Haven town itself, he found two cars crashed head-on into one another. Broken windows and splattered blood. He hopped out and peered inside. One car looked like it had a family of four inside. All dead. The other had a man and woman in the front seats. Also dead. A little further up he saw a cop car on the side of the road with its lights still on. No cop in sight.
The driver door to the cop car was unlocked. Dan looked around the seats in search of a gun. No luck. Then, he noticed the radio receiver was on the hook and powered on. Click. “Hello? Is anyone out there?” No response. Click. “Hello, hello? Anyone read me? Hello?” Nothing. Only the faint sound of static.
He didn’t drive much further west as it would take him into the town that, from a distance, looked like it had more crashed cars and mayhem that took place from last night. Part of Dan’s mind told him to see if there were any other living people in White Haven while the other part said to turn back now.
When the Sky Goes Dark Page 10