Coming the Dark tdt-1

by Patrick D'orazio

  Jeff looked up and down the street for movement or signs of life. Seeing none, he relaxed slightly. When he saw the van up ahead, he risked breathing a little easier. The vehicle looked to be okay; the mob had not taken their frustrations out on it as they passed by. Things were looking up.

  As he pulled up next to it, he glanced into the backyard. His eyebrows furrowed, and he shook his head in frustration. Leaning over, he grabbed his baseball bat from off the floorboards. As he did, he felt pressure on his hip. Jeff pulled the revolver from his waistband and handed it to Megan. She looked at him, confused.

  “Go on over to the van,” he said as he left the Jeep and walked toward the backyard. “I’ll be right back,” he responded to Megan’s unspoken question and then turned to run into the backyard.

  There were four still up top. Not a single one was able to stand, and they had all been crawling toward the wall before they heard the Jeep pull up. Now they were turning, trying to make the arduous journey back to where Jeff and Megan were. One started in with the grim dirge Jeff knew so well, and the other three joined the chorus almost immediately.

  Jeff did not break stride as he gripped the bat in both hands and took a golf swing at the closest one. The scarred aluminum made solid contact with its face. The moaning stopped as its neck snapped and its head flopped onto its back. He kicked the next one, and several teeth flew out of its mouth. Standing over it, Jeff let the blows rain down until its head was a puddle of mush.

  The two remaining were easily dispatched in the same fashion. They had all been crippled before he had gotten to them and posed little threat.

  Jeff was sliding the bat over the grass, wiping the streaks of gore off of it when he heard more moans coming from over the ledge. Looking back toward the van, he saw Megan standing between the two vehicles, a horrified expression on her face.

  Unable to deny his curiosity, Jeff walked toward the wall. Swallowing hard, he peered over the edge. The sound increased as those below caught sight of him.

  Broken bodies squirmed and wriggled on their blanket of pulped and mutilated corpses. They were tearing each other apart, and it was clear from the extent of the damage done that they had been doing so ever since Jeff had left. As bad as they looked before, they were almost unrecognizable now. Only a few still had the use of their eyes or throats, and those that did wailed woefully at him. Those with arms raised them, scratching and clawing the others in their attempts to pull their own bodies above the pile.

  Jeff had to turn away after only a few seconds. He spat on the ground, trying to get the taste of death out of his mouth as he rubbed his eyes, hoping the image would fade. It didn’t, and somehow he knew it would stick with him for a long time to come.

  Walking quickly back to the van, he brushed past Megan as he tugged open the driver’s-side door and dug in his pocket for the keys. Finding them, he tossed the bat in back and turned the key in the ignition. Megan slid into the passenger seat, glaring at him.

  “You seem to be enjoying yourself,” she spat out. Her expression shifted from frosty irritation to discomfort as she saw the look of pain on his face. Megan’s mouth slammed shut, and she looked away.

  Jeff flipped the van into reverse and backed up. He twisted the steering wheel and switched gears, and they were moving down the road, heading back toward Megan’s house.

  As they crept down the road, Megan looked over at Jeff again. The worst of the pain was gone from his expression, but she could still see the ghost of it in his eyes.

  “You can’t kill them all.”

  Jeff barely heard the quiet words. He looked at Megan in confusion, but she had already turned away, leaning her forehead against the window and looking at her house as they passed it by.

  Jeff wanted to say something in response, to argue that he wasn’t trying to kill all of them, but he knew it would sound silly after what he had just done.

  So instead, he set his sights on the road as they moved up the hill toward the heart of the subdivision. The day was wearing down, and it would soon be dusk. They had to find a suitable house to break into to spend the night. The coast still looked clear, but Jeff knew there were more ghouls lurking out there, waiting for darkness to fall, so they could begin the hunt.

  Chapter 12

  “There.” Jeff tapped on the brakes. He pointed at a house as they slowed to a stop in front of it.

  Like most houses in the neighborhood, it was a two-story traditional with a covered porch running the length of the front, except for the attached two-car garage. The windows were still intact, and Jeff could see the wood nailed up behind them on the first floor. The blinds were drawn on all the second-floor windows, and there was no obvious damage.

  He turned off the engine and stared at the house for a few moments.

  “So what do you think?”

  Megan shrugged. They had driven down several streets looking for a house, and this was the first that looked like someone might still be living in it. Jeff had mumbled something about trying to find other folks who had been hiding out like they had, and she had nodded politely, though she was skeptical as to their chances of discovering anyone left in the neighborhood who didn’t want to tear their throats out.

  Jeff reached back for the Maglite and the baseball bat, then stepped outside. Surveying the immediate area, he seemed satisfied that they were still in the clear.

  Megan got out as well, and they met at the front of the van. Jeff looked at her and smiled. “You know how to use that thing?”

  Megan lifted the.357, which looked huge in her hands, popped the cylinder out and spun it, confirming it was loaded. With a flick of her wrist, it snapped shut, and she pointed it skyward.

  “My husband took me out to a shooting range a couple of times. I know what I’m doing.” The look in her eyes was defiant, and Jeff bowed his head and nodded.

  “Well, I’ll just stick with old faithful then,” he said, lifting the bat. He could feel his small handgun digging into his thigh, but he wasn’t about to pull it out. It would just make Megan laugh.

  She began walking toward the house, the gun still pointed in the air.

  “Uh,” Jeff uttered as he ran to catch up with her, “you don’t have to do this. I can check the place out myself.” Megan didn’t bother sparing him a backward glance as she kept moving forward. He was forced to follow to keep up. “I meant it,” he called after her. She was already crossing the lawn, headed for the front door. Jeff awkwardly shifted the heavy flashlight to the same hand carrying the bat so he could grab her elbow from behind and gently stop her.

  Megan turned slowly before she spoke. “Look, I know I was upset with you in the van. I’m sorry about that, but this…” She waved the gun a little as she looked around, the frustration showing on her face. “It’s just hard to comprehend, you know?”

  Jeff nodded slowly, a skeptical look on his face.

  “I’m still just getting my bearings, okay? But I’m fine, honestly. I can handle this.” Megan could see that she had not convinced him. “I am not going to let you take all the risks while I just sit in the minivan.”

  Megan gave Jeff a fierce stare until he sighed and nodded again. She could see the slight touch of regret in his eyes and did her best to ignore it.

  He looked at the house, sizing it up. “Let’s stick together, but stay a few feet back from me. We need to check things out around back before we try to figure out how to get inside.”

  Megan nodded and waved him forward.

  “After you.”

  Jeff smiled and moved past her. He fumbled with the flashlight, attempting to shove it through a belt loop in his jeans. It wouldn’t fit and Megan rolled her eyes. She stepped up and took it from him, holding it comfortably in her left hand as she hefted the revolver in her right.

  “I’ll give it back whenever you need it,” she assured him.

  Jeff nodded as he gripped the baseball bat more easily with both hands. The late afternoon sun beat down on them as they moved around to
the back of the house. There was no fence, so the trip took only a few seconds. He wiped the sweat from his brow and moved toward the patio. The sliding glass door was intact and a big couch with a loveseat on top of it had been pushed against the doors. Jeff looked at the first-floor windows and saw they were blacked out with what appeared to be garbage bags. No glass had been shattered. Backing up, he could see that the second-story windows had the shades pulled just like out front. Megan came around the corner, and he gave her a thumbs-up before heading to the other side of the house.

  The garage door was almost identical to the one Jeff had on his house: aluminum painted beige. Whereas his had no windows, this one had two, both of which were covered with black garbage bags as well. He checked the handle on the garage door, twisting it quietly. It was locked. He tapped the bat against the windowpane gently. It did not sound as though there were any sort of reinforcement behind the garbage bag to prevent the glass from being smashed in.

  “You gonna break it?” Jeff nearly jumped out of his skin when Megan’s question came from directly behind him.

  “Jesus, woman!” he said as he grabbed at his chest. Megan’s face split into a grin despite Jeff’s obvious irritation.

  “Sorry,” was all she said, without a speck of sincerity. After a moment, he had to smile too. He made an exaggerated gesture as though he were going to club her with the bat, and they laughed together. Jeff shook his head and moved to the front of the house with Megan following. He walked to the front door and tried the knob. Two quick twists and he dropped his hand.

  “Why don’t you just ring the doorbell?”

  Jeff glanced over at Megan, and she explained. “I mean, what difference does it make? You can’t hear it out here. Look around you.” She waved the gun at their deathly silent surroundings. “We have been talking out loud and driving the van, and no one has noticed.”

  She had a point. Jeff nodded.

  “Here goes nothing.”

  He pressed the button. Expecting to hear chimes, he was surprised when there was nothing. Megan leaned forward and pushed the button as well, repeatedly.

  “Come on,” she said, irritated, and Jeff began to laugh quietly. She looked at him.

  “Boy, aren’t we a pair?” Megan continued to stare quizzically at Jeff. “Did we think that the electricity had come back on all of a sudden?” She sighed and shook her head, feeling stupid.

  “Ding dong, dumbasses calling,” she said and barked out a short self-deprecating laugh.

  “Well, how about we just knock?” Jeff banged on the door. The silent response was deafening.

  “Maybe they’re upstairs sleeping.” He looked skeptical at Megan’s suggestion but rapped the edge of the door again, harder this time. The doorframe rattled under the blows. Megan looked nervously up and down the street but saw that the sound wasn’t drawing any undue attention.

  Jeff motioned for her to step back. He wound up and took a full swing at the glass with the bat. A spider web appeared in it, but the ornate decorative display glass had lines of metal running through it. It would take several blows to knock it out.

  “The side door would probably be a better bet,” Megan said as he swung again. Jeff ignored her and took several more swings before he paused, staring at the glass, which was cracked but still in place.

  “Fuck it,” Jeff grumbled as he moved back to the side of the house. Megan hid her smile as she followed. He had already rammed the bat through one of the glass panels on the side door, shattering it, by the time she got there. “Nothing behind it,” he commented, sticking the bat through the hole to lift the garbage bag and get a view inside. He motioned for her to hand him the flashlight.

  He clicked the Maglite on and swept the beam across the garage floor. Satisfied, Jeff set the bat down and reached inside for the deadbolt. It clicked open, and they walked in.

  The garage was jammed full of stacks of junk and an old Pontiac sedan. There were bags of clothes and several pieces of broken furniture. The claw hammer lying on top of one of the disassembled chairs led Jeff to believe that the wood was what the family had used in their effort to barricade the place.

  His eyes narrowed as he stared past the piles of clothes and wood. It appeared that no one had broken into the place before them, yet no one had responded to all the noise they had made. The place smelled musty, but that was a major improvement over the charnel house smell of the rest of the neighborhood.

  Testing the knob, Jeff was surprised to find the interior door unlocked. He opened it a crack and nudged the flashlight against it. Megan tensed and held the revolver with both hands. When nothing happened, she relaxed slightly but kept a tight grip on the gun.

  They moved inside. Particles of dust danced in the flashlight’s beam as Jeff surveyed the kitchen, splashing light in the shadows. Listening for any movement, they moved across the floor carefully. The kitchen and family area were combined in one large room, giving the two of them a clear view across the house. Splinters of light filtered in through the gaps in the couch barricade at the back door. Other windows had the ubiquitous black bags taped over them, but whoever had done it had not done the best job, and enough light trickled in that Jeff could turn off the flashlight.

  Megan noticed a pile of empty cans and cereal boxes stacked in and around the trashcan in the kitchen and pointed it out to Jeff. He nodded. Someone had been staying here and, from the looks of things, had remained for quite some time. Other debris, including empty milk jugs, was scattered across the floor. A quick search of the pantry and kitchen cabinets revealed no more traces of food…at least not anything edible.

  The garage had been musty, but the air inside the house was a bit riper. Jeff could smell the familiar stench of defecation that tended to overwhelm everything else once the toilets stopped working and there was no way to get rid of the human waste.

  He was looking at the dual staircase leading down to the basement and up to the second floor when he heard a door creak open behind him and a sudden gagging noise.

  Turning quickly, he saw Megan running to the kitchen sink. As he rushed to see what had happened, he was hit by a wall of foulness that nearly knocked him over. Pulling up his sweatshirt, he covered his nose and mouth, but the rich smell of feces was overpowering. As Megan began to retch into the sink, he turned and discovered the source of this new and far more potent odor.

  Shaking his head, Jeff pushed the bathroom door shut. He did not bother looking inside but could guess that there were buckets or other containers filled with piss and shit. Looking down, he saw the towel that had acted as a seal to keep as much of the smell inside the bathroom as possible.

  Jeff waited patiently as Megan finished dry heaving. With the door shut and the towel in place, the smell was shifting from overwhelming to barely tolerable once again. She wiped a thin line of spittle from her mouth and stood leaning over the sink.

  “Go back outside. I can do this by myself,” Jeff said. “There isn’t anyone here. They must have taken off.” She shook her head but looked woozy, and her knees almost gave out on her.

  “Well, at least stay down here. I can’t have you barfing up a lung while I check things out upstairs.” Megan tried to retort, but the heaves came back in a rush, and she bent over the sink again. “I’ll be back in a few minutes,” Jeff said as she waved him off. He started toward the stairs.

  It was gloomy on the second floor, but even with the blinds and curtains closed, there was more than enough light for him to see that nothing was hiding in the shadows cast in the hallway. The sun was dipping into the west, but it was still light outside. He set the flashlight down at the top of the steps and glanced over at the open area to the right. It was sparsely furnished with a small bookshelf, TV, and a couple of chairs. Looking down the hall, he could see that all the doors were shut. He moved into the sitting room and opened the blinds on the window, letting in more light. With bat in hand, he turned to check out the bedrooms.

  The smell wasn’t nearly as strong up
here, and Jeff was already envisioning being able to bunk for the night in one of the bedrooms. They could discuss plans for tomorrow after they settled in.

  Moving across to the first door, he leaned against it and listened as he held the knob. As he had suspected, there was no sound except that of his own heartbeat. Still holding the bat, Jeff opened the door in a rush.

  Nothing stirred, and he moved in slowly, the bat held in front of him like a sword. The dim light revealed that the room had belonged to a teenage girl. The pink paint and the posters of the boy bands du jour made it obvious. The bed was even made. The room looked organized, but a thick coating of dust made it clear it had not been used in quite some time.

  He moved across the hall and checked the next room. This was a boy’s. There was a NASCAR poster with some driver Jeff didn’t recognize on the wall along with several other posters featuring muscle-bound superheroes. “Where were you guys when we needed you?” he whispered before stepping back into the hall.

  The next room was another boy’s, this one the younger of the two. Jeff smiled as he looked at the toys strewn across the room and the stickers adorning the walls. Unlike the others, this room had a lived-in look about it, with books and stuffed animals lumped in random piles, though the boy’s dresser was caked with as much dust as there had been in the other bedrooms.

  Stepping back out into the hall, he shut the door behind him. There were two more doors to check, and he already knew which one was the bathroom. Although he could detect no odor coming from it, he was inclined to leave it shut after Megan’s foul mistake downstairs.

  The final room at the end of the hall had to be the master bedroom. This house was similar enough to Jeff’s that it seemed obvious. Turning the knob, he pushed the door open.

  The scene that awaited was like something out of his worst nightmare.