Into The Darkness

by Doug Kelly

  Dylan leaned toward him and whispered, “We got your back, Rambo.” Dylan followed the whisper with a push toward the cabin door with his boot.

  Richard quietly edged forward to the door. He extended his hand over the brass knob and hesitated. Richard looked back to see both Dylan and Kevin waving him on. His hand was shaking as he turned the knob. Richard closed his eyes as he reluctantly inched the door open. He heard a slight squeak from the door hinges, which brought him back to reality, and he opened his eyes. Richard shrieked, stumbling backward as the cabin door slammed shut.

  Both Dylan and Kevin crouched low and gripped their weapons tightly. Adrenaline pumped into their veins and their eyes grew wide, locked on the door as they waited for it to burst open, the threat behind it revealing itself.

  “Get back here!” hissed Dylan. “What did you see? What were they doing? Did they have weapons?”

  “They…I mean she…was just sprawled there. It looked like a woman.”

  Dylan lowered his weapon and walked to the closed door. He placed his hand on the doorknob and turned to glance back at his two companions. Dylan did a silent countdown from three, then flung the door completely open. He saw a woman lying on the bed. Then his senses captured the horrible smell. A woman’s dead body lay there in her own filth. In her arms, she was holding a picture. Dylan took the picture and held it up to the cabin’s rear window. It was the picture of a man wearing a monogrammed leather jacket and alligator boots, with a large Rolex watch on his wrist. In the background was the boat they were now standing on. He wondered if the man was her husband.

  Kevin stepped into the cabin, opened the windows to let fresh air inside, and noticed a note on a small table. He read it aloud. “My love, it has been days since you left to look for help. I pray that you are well, but I’m sick and can feel myself weakening. The food has gone bad, but I’m so hungry and thirsty that I ate the food anyway and drank water from the lake. If you read this note, I want you to know my last thoughts are of you.” Kevin dropped the note back down on the table. “Looks like food poisoning and dirty water. He has to be a goner, too. There’s no help anywhere. They never had a chance, not even with all their money.”

  “There’s nothing we can do for her. Let’s look around to see if we can use anything,” stated Dylan, already looking for whatever could be of use.

  The men systematically opened every one of the boat’s compartments, assessing all the items at their disposal.

  Dylan reviewed their new inventory. “Flashlight, first-aid kit, rope, flare gun, and…what are these…life preservers? Who needs these?”

  Richard took a deep breath and reluctantly said, “I do. I can’t swim.”

  Dylan and Kevin were speechless. Dylan glanced back and forth from Richard to the raft in the lake and said nothing, but shook his head in disbelief. He grabbed a life preserver and pushed it into Richard’s chest. Dylan took the new supplies, lowered them into the rafts, then the men continued on their way.

  They rowed until well into the afternoon and stopped at a gentle shoreline with a narrow gravel service road next to it. The road was at least one hundred feet from the river, with a grassy hill behind it. They needed to go ashore to scout for food, and decided that this flat area would be a good place to set up camp. The trees were sparse in this area, but there was just enough wood to start a fire sufficient for their needs. Kevin set the lines to catch fish and Richard took the hatchet to gather more wood. Richard walked to the gravel road and followed it to a small stand of trees, where anyone watching would have seen him stop in horror. He gripped the hatchet tightly and quickly cast a fearful eye over his surroundings. There was a body of a man lying there, wearing only underclothes, with his hands and feet bound. Dylan and Kevin came running with weapons in hand.

  With a shaky finger, Richard pointed to the lifeless body on the ground. “Look, another body. It looks like he was shot.”

  Kevin knelt down near the corpse and looked closely at the man’s facial features. “Yeah, he’s been shot. This is the man in the picture, from the big boat.”

  “Are you sure?” asked Dylan.

  “Positive. We had better take turns on watch tonight.”

  Trying to ignore the body, Richard gathered wood for the fire and returned to the campsite. He went to another stand of trees to get more wood. The branches were still green, and the fresh wood sizzled and crackled in the fire as the men stood around it silently reflecting on the day’s events.

  Richard was facing the slope and thought he saw something moving on top of the hill. The other men turned to see the same dark figure. Dylan grabbed the binoculars and determined that it was a man in a dark green uniform coming their way. As the man got closer, he waved his arms in their direction, trying to get their attention. Dylan continued watching, and could soon tell that it was a park ranger’s uniform. The men waved back to acknowledge the ranger. Dylan handed the binoculars to Kevin.

  “Hey, I went to take a look around on that hill and I saw your fire,” said the ranger.

  Dylan noticed he still had a nametag on his shirt. The name was Murphy. “Ranger Murphy, we found a body over there. It looks like he was murdered.”

  Murphy touched his nametag as though he had forgotten that he was still wearing it. The ranger appeared to be affected like all the other people they had met after the grid crashed. Dylan assumed he was on duty at this enormous park when it happened, and now he was stuck here.

  “People are running out of food. They’re desperate.” The ranger looked at the ground and shook his head dejectedly. “There’s nothing I can do.” He looked back up and spoke with tension in his voice. “Something’s wrong. I can’t radio for help and everyone is stuck here, including me.” His gaze turned to the three rafts and supplies. “It looks like you guys are doing alright, though.” The ranger pointed at the rifle on Dylan’s shoulder. “Nice piece. Military?”

  “The rifle is. I’m not.”

  “I met someone that was camping on the other side of the hill. We’ve been helping each other while we’re stuck here. He got an elk and there’s too much for us.” The ranger looked at Dylan. “Why don’t you come over and get some elk meat. If you help us butcher it, we can give you plenty. I’ll help you carry some back to your camp.”

  Dylan looked at his companions and they nodded in agreement. “I’ll go,” said Dylan.

  The ranger and Dylan crested the grassy hill. From above he could see that the service road went around the hill and split, one section following the lake’s shoreline. The road on the other side of the hill led to the campsite where the elk was supposed to be. They went directly to the other campsite through a stand of trees and bushes, using a path that, according to the ranger, would lead them there. The path was narrow so the two men walked single file. The ranger walked behind Dylan giving him directions as they went along. The path stopped at a large clearing a short distance in front of Dylan. He stopped and the ranger stopped behind him. Dylan looked around the clearing to study the campsite. He could see a truck farther away, on the far side of the clearing, next to the road that split around the hill. Behind the truck, he saw a man standing there with his back turned to their approach.

  “I don’t see the elk,” stated Dylan, as he took a few slow steps forward.

  “Just keep walking,” said Ranger Murphy, remaining behind Dylan.

  Dylan moved slowly forward toward the truck and the man behind it. He cautiously looked around and observed how well concealed the clearing was. Tall trees and bushes surrounded this campsite. As the two men got closer, the man behind the truck turned and seemed surprised to see them. He had not heard them approaching from the trail. The man behind the truck gave a quick wave after he recognized the ranger, who was partially concealed behind Dylan.

  “Where’s the elk?” Dylan asked again.

  “Just keep on walking,” said Ranger Murphy.

  The man in the distance stepped from behind the truck. He was wearing an expensive leather j
acket and holding some rope in his right hand.

  “Here we go,” shouted Ranger Murphy toward the other man.

  The other man did not respond as he moved toward the front of the truck. He put his foot on the truck’s bumper and leaned on his elevated knee. As the man leaned forward, the sleeves of his jacket pulled back, revealing a large expensive wristwatch. He brushed some dust off the shiny alligator boots he was wearing.

  Dylan saw the man’s boots and stopped walking toward the truck. His eyes went from the boots to the wristwatch and then to the leather jacket. He could now see that the jacket was monogrammed. Dylan kept his eye on the man as he leaned back to whisper to the ranger.

  “I think he killed the man that we found near our campsite. I saw a picture of the dead man and he was wearing that jacket, boots, and watch.”

  The ranger put his hand on his pistol. Dylan could hear the sound of the Velcro strap holding the ranger’s pistol pull away.

  “Are you sure he shot the man you found?” Ranger Murphy was directly behind Dylan now.

  Dylan felt his heart drop. Now he realized why there was no elk. He moved his hand toward his rifle and spoke as he spun around to the Ranger. “I never told you he was shot.”

  Dylan did not have time to shoulder the rifle. He turned to see that Ranger Murphy already had his pistol aimed directly at him.

  “I suggest that you cooperate,” the ranger said, coldly. “You don’t want to end up like the man you found by the road, do you? He wouldn’t tell us where his pretty wife was. See what happened to him? Now put the rifle down nice and slow, then we need to walk over to the truck.”

  Dylan was furious. “You’re a real piece of shit, asshole. What do you want with me?” asked Dylan, clenching his teeth as he set the rifle on the ground.

  “We don’t care about you, just your supplies,” the ranger smirked. “This has been a good day for me. We just got this truck and were getting ready to leave, and then you come along with all your goodies.” The ranger laughed and sneered when he did. “The world has changed. There are new rules for us now. The first rule is, everyone for themselves. I think you understand that, don’t you?”

  The ranger picked up Dylan’s rifle and took a few steps back. He had moved closer to the trees and bushes surrounding the campsite. He put the rifle butt up to his shoulder and aimed toward Dylan. Dylan did not flinch. The Ranger lowered the rifle and pulled back the slide to verify it was loaded. A cartridge ejected. The cartridge arced upward, then hit the dusty trail. After watching the cartridge hit the bare ground, the ranger looked back at Dylan.

  “You need to walk toward my friend by the truck. We’re going to tie you up.” The ranger sadistically grinned and motioned with the rifle for Dylan to move toward the truck.

  Dylan stood his ground. Rage was coursing through his body. He clenched his fists tightly by his side. As his fists brushed against his thighs, he suddenly realized he did not have his knife. He had left it behind. He quickly glanced over at the man by the truck. The man was laughing at him, while swinging the rope tauntingly. Dylan felt defeated.

  The ranger raised the rifle. “Remember what I said about cooperation?” The ranger waited for Dylan to move, but he remained stationary, with his hands clenched so tight that his knuckles were white. “Have it your way,” snarled the ranger, as he again shouldered the rifle and aimed at Dylan’s head. The ranger took a firm stance and prepared to fire the weapon.

  At that moment, a firearm discharged with a loud crack. Although it had happened quickly, it was like slow motion in Dylan’s mind. He saw Kevin step through the bushes behind the ranger, already with the pistol aimed at his skull. As soon as Kevin stepped through there was a quick muzzle flash and the ranger’s forehead exploded at the same time his dead body began to collapse to the ground. He was instantly dead with one shot.

  Dylan immediately turned to locate the other man, and saw the rope on the truck’s hood; the man was already running away. Dylan sprinted in pursuit.

  “Wait…Dylan…wait!” yelled Kevin.

  Dylan was beside the truck. He stopped and turned toward Kevin just in time to catch the rifle thrown his way. Using the truck for stability, Dylan took aim on his moving target. He placed the sights just barely in front of the running man. Dylan consciously relaxed his body, exhaled, and slowly squeezed the trigger. The fleeing man dropped like a rock into the tall grass.

  Dylan stepped back from the truck and inspected the rifle. “I think we’re going to be the best of friends,” said Dylan to his rifle. “Now let’s go find you another companion. I think the Ranger doesn’t need his pistol anymore.”

  Kevin kicked the Ranger’s body over and removed the pistol. “Let’s get out of here.”

  “Just one question.” Dylan put his hand on Kevin’s shoulder and looked him in the eye. “What brought you up here?”

  Kevin reached into a deep pocket and handed Dylan his knife. “You forgot this. I thought you would need it to butcher the elk.”

  “My lucky charm.” Dylan gave his knife a kiss and attached it to his belt, then picked up the cartridge the Ranger had ejected from the rifle.

  Kevin turned toward the path back to their camp. Dylan glanced over at the truck. He noticed that it was parked under a large tree that would have given it plenty of shade all day long.

  “Wait a minute. I want to check something out.”

  Dylan walked to the truck and put his hand on the hood. It was warm. He motioned for Kevin to come over.

  “It feels warm. I think it might still run,” Dylan said.

  Kevin’s jaw dropped. He slapped the truck. “I’ll be damned. Let’s give it a try!”

  Kevin jumped into the driver seat. The key was still in the ignition. He turned the key and the engine sprung to life. “Hot damn! Get in. Richard will shit his pants when we drive up.”

  Kevin put it into first gear, released the clutch, and eased the truck around. He drove it back to the road and around the hill. The road that split around the grassy hill took them directly back to their campsite. When they saw Richard, they slowed down to observe his reaction. Richard was by the fire, splitting some small logs. When he saw the truck he stood, stared, and probably thought that he was imagining things. They could tell by Richard’s body language that he could not see who was driving the truck, most likely from the glare of the setting sun on the windshield. Kevin sped up and honked the horn wildly. Richard stepped farther away from the road and held the little axe tightly in his hand. Kevin drove off the road and went directly toward the campfire, leaving a cloud of gravel dust behind him. Richard’s eyes got wide and he was looking all around for his two companions. Kevin spun the wheel, slammed on the brakes, and rolled the window down, revealing himself. Richard’s expression went from fear to disbelief when he saw that Kevin was the driver of the truck.

  “Hey, we got you a present,” yelled Kevin, out of the driver’s window.

  “A truck?” asked Richard.

  “Nope, that’s for me. This is for you.” Kevin held the pistol out the window with his index finger and thumb on the handle. It dangled between his fingers with the barrel pointing toward the ground.

  Richard eagerly accepted the pistol and walked away, admiring his gift. Kevin parked the truck and offered Dylan the keys, but Dylan shook his head and sat down beside the campfire to rest. He was hungry and all he wanted to do was eat something and go to sleep, but his hunger drove him to obsessively inspect the food supplies again. The amount of food was getting dangerously low. He knew that all the rowing they had to do on the lake was burning calories. Consequently, they needed a lot more food. What they had been able to scavenge was inadequate.

  Dylan ate his share of the remaining food, and promptly dozed off. The nightmares came back, as expected.

  Chapter Eleven

  At daybreak, Kevin pulled his trotlines in from the lake. The fillets of fish smelled delicious as they roasted over the campfire.

  Kevin leaned against the truck a
nd spoke to the others. “We’ve been burning a lot of calories rowing on the lake. According to the map, it’s over one hundred miles long. That’s a lot of energy to get to the end. We should put our gear in the bed of this truck and get the hell out of here. Let’s take the truck as far as that gravel road will take us along the shoreline.” He slapped the truck. “This baby is going to save us a lot of time and don’t forget, we better make a good effort to get more food. We’re real low. I don’t want to touch the MREs unless it’s an emergency.”

  The men wasted little time loading the truck. They sat in the cab shoulder to shoulder and took off down the road. It was a fantastic feeling to go faster than the river’s current. The dam was several days of backbreaking effort away by raft, but now, with a truck, they planned to make it in less than a day.

  Richard sat in the middle, his thigh leaning against the stick shift, and dozed off as Kevin drove down the bumpy road. Dylan looked out the passenger window and watched the shoreline whip by, and the birds circling in the air above the water as he quietly daydreamed of a better time in his life, a time when a trip to a lake would have meant fishing and camping for fun, not survival.

  Kevin was the first to notice the people ahead of them, sitting on the side of the road. He immediately applied the brakes, jerking Richard forward and waking him up.

  “What happened?” asked Richard, still groggy from sleep.

  Kevin had a tight grip on the steering wheel and extended a finger to point at the group of people in the distance. Richard and Dylan saw what Kevin was pointing at. They strained their eyes and noticed that the members of the group all appeared to be wearing the same type of clothes, maybe uniforms. When the group ahead noticed the truck, they stood up, and then began to jump up and down. They waved their arms frantically, like castaways on a deserted island, finally seeing a passing ship and desperately trying to get its attention. They were Boy Scouts. Kevin leaned forward again, straining his eyes toward the distant pack, and all the men remained alert for danger.