Coming the Dark tdt-1

by Patrick D'orazio

  “Good boy.”

  The father’s smile grew larger. His nervousness had diminished greatly. He nodded toward his son but stared at Jeff as his voice dropped to a near whisper. “My boy’s a good shot…a hell of a lot better than me. He used to hunt with his uncle all the time.” The father moved closer and looked at Jeff conspiratorially. “Now I might be a little nervous about shooting you, but Bobby there…well, if I tell him to shoot, he’ll do it, no questions asked.”

  More teeth were displayed as the crooked grin got even wider. “Now, you do believe me, don’t you?”

  Jeff stared at the father and then past him to the son, whose rifle was still pointed at his head. He nodded.

  “Good. Then we understand one another.”

  The man took a step back, and his chest swelled. He took another look at the van.

  “Now I’m going to ask just one more time. Is there anyone else in there?”

  Jeff took a deep breath and held it for a moment before letting it out slowly. He smiled, matching his opponent’s grin tooth for tooth. His confidence elevated slightly when he saw the brave facade on the other man’s face start to crack. Making his decision in that split second, he shook his head in denial.

  “You better not be fucking with me. You do realize that, don’t you?”

  Jeff continued to grin.

  After another few seconds of staring at Jeff, Bobby’s father looked at the van again. He squinted at it, a curious look on his face.

  “So what’ve you got in there? Food? Water?”

  “Uh huh. Medicine too. All kinds of stuff.”

  Jeff’s head swiveled over to Megan, and his grin faltered.

  “We could share it with you.”

  Now both men were looking at her, their eyes growing wide with surprise.

  “Please, we could help each other out!” Megan sounded desperate and excited as Jeff silently fumed beside her. “If we give you some of our food and medicine, you could let us stay here tonight.” Suddenly, she was on a roll and seemed to forget all about the gun pointed at her. “I think we should stick together instead of fighting one another. We won’t cause you any trouble, I swear to God! We just want a place to rest and then we’ll move on. It’ll be like we were never here at all…except you’ll have a lot more food for you, your son, and whoever else is with you.”

  Jeff watched their captor’s expression, and his hopes rose when he appeared to actually consider Megan’s offer. At least that seemed to be the case until she spoke her last few words. Then, it was as if a switch had been flipped, and his face contorted in rage.

  “Lady, my son and I are alone, and we intend to keep it that way. We don’t need anyone else screwing things up for us. We survived this long without any outsiders, and we sure as hell don’t need you hanging around causing us even more grief than we’ve already had.” He shook his head in contempt. “Shit, you probably drew enough attention with your goddamn van to wake up every one of those fucking bastards in a three-mile radius.”

  “No! No! Listen, we-”

  The man raised his voice, ignoring Megan’s protests. “So my son and I are going to let you deal with whatever shit you stirred up. That minivan of yours is our ticket out of here.”

  “No! You can’t take the van!”

  “Shut up, Megan!” Jeff jumped in before she could provoke the man toting the rifle any further. Jeff shook his head and glared at her, a rabid expression on his face. Megan’s mouth slammed shut and she took a step back.

  “Look…can you please tell us your name at least?” Jeff turned back to the man, the words flying out of his mouth as he tried desperately to regain control of the situation.

  “You don’t need to know what my name is, pal. Once my son and I leave, it’ll be the last you’ll ever see of us.”

  “So it shouldn’t matter, right? Look, I know your son’s name, and let’s face it; we’re not going to have an APB put out on you, are we? I just want to know who I’m dealing with.” Jeff had regained his composure enough to try another smile, this one a bit meeker than before.

  The man holding them at gunpoint stared hard at Jeff and started to say something but stopped himself. He rolled his eyes and lowered the gun slightly as he made a noise that sounded like a frustrated laugh. Jeff tried to inject even more warmth into his smile.

  “Dad? What’re you doing?”

  Jeff could tell from Bobby’s voice that he was getting nervous, just like his father.

  “It’s under control, son, just relax and keep your pants on!” Dad said, his frustration starting to wear on him.

  He looked at Jeff again and sighed. “The name’s Fred, for all the good it’ll do ya.”

  Jeff increased the wattage of his smile. “Well, Fred, my name’s Jeff. This is my wife, Megan.”

  He held his breath and prayed Megan would play along. When she didn’t stare at him in surprise, Jeff relaxed slightly. All he knew was that he had to keep stalling and try to give Fred a reason to feel guilty about what he was doing.

  “I can’t believe we’ve made it this far. We somehow managed to get out of town after everything fell apart. Those things were all over us. Honestly, I’m just glad to be here.” Jeff looked over at Megan affectionately. She seemed a bit disoriented from his lie but smiled disjointedly back at him. He inched closer to her until the rifle began to elevate once again. Jeff held up his hands in appeasement and stopped.

  “Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Fred remarked irritably. “I’m going to take a look at the van. We want to be out of the area by nightfall. You and your wife can jaw all you want about how you escaped the city after we’re gone.” He started toward the van.

  “Where’s your wife, Fred?”

  When Fred stiffened and the color disappeared from his face, Jeff knew he had struck a nerve. He hadn’t had an idea what he was going to say until the words tumbled out of his mouth. Something had been gnawing at him since he had stepped out of the van, and now he realized what it was.

  “Is that her grave?” Jeff pointed to the marker they had noticed while driving up to the property: the makeshift cross and the freshly turned dirt. The disturbed earth was long and wide enough for an adult to be buried underneath it.

  “Is that Bobby’s mother?”

  “Shut up.” It was a growled threat.

  Jeff kept pressing. “I’m just wondering, because we had to bury two children back in Milfield. They got bit, got the plague, and we had to watch them die, Fred. So I was just curious if you might understand what we’ve been dealing with.”

  “SHUT UP, GODDAMMIT!” Fred screamed, his eyes closed as he pointed the rifle like a spear at Jeff’s chest.

  “Dad, what’s wrong?”

  Bobby was finally moving off the porch toward them. He was almost running and still trying to point the rifle at the two prisoners. He stopped a few feet away, but Jeff could see the agitation on his face. Like his father, he was taller than average, but he was still growing into his body. Back on the porch, he looked like he meant business. Up close, even with a rifle in his hands, he looked like nothing more than a confused kid.

  Fred almost turned to face his son but held his position and glared at Jeff. “Get the hell back to the porch! NOW!” Bobby hovered for a couple of moments before reluctantly backing up.

  Jeff kept the look of misery on his face. The bluff he was trying to pull off was far too close to the truth for him not to feel some of the pain he was projecting.

  “Fred, please. We’re just trying to survive here. We’ve already seen way too much death. Haven’t you?” He leaned forward as hate burned in the other man’s eyes. “Why don’t we help each other out so we can all get out of here together?”

  The butt of the rifle connected with his jaw so quickly that Jeff barely saw it coming. Fred had been moving closer ever since the other man started talking, but when Jeff leaned forward, he presented an irresistible target. There was no pain as he fell to the ground; the clipped scream of surprise from Megan was the
first thing he noticed after nearly getting his jaw dislocated.

  The blow rattled his teeth and knocked him flat, but as Jeff moved his hand up to his jaw, he wasn’t quite sure what had happened. When the pain finally came a few seconds later, it started as a dull throb.

  “Stay away from him, you asshole!” Megan scrambled to Jeff’s side, grabbing him around the shoulders and shielding him from any further attacks. Fred was done, though. He stepped back, his rage sated for the moment. He looked more confused than ever, and the reprimand from Megan seemed to give him pause.

  “Bastard.”

  The expletive was whispered as Megan examined Jeff’s jaw, touching the rising welt delicately. His head moved back quickly after her fingers hit the raw spot, and he sucked in air through his teeth. She relaxed a little when she realized his jaw wasn’t broken.

  Megan looked up at Fred. Her eyes were hot flares that burned straight through him. He stepped back, giving her the chance to help Jeff, first to his knees and then to his feet. Jeff gingerly rubbed his jaw as he glared at Fred, who was too busy looking at the van again to care.

  “Where’s the keys? Give ‘em to me.”

  “Fred-”

  “I’m tired of this shit! That IS my wife over there, and I was the one who had to put her down! Satisfied? Happy to know I had to deal with the same shit you did, you fucking prick?” Fred’s eyes were full of fire as he spoke. “In about two seconds, if you don’t hand over those keys, I swear to God I’ll be digging two more holes!”

  The rifle was in Jeff’s face again, but this time he could see no doubt on Fred’s visage. The ruse had backfired, and there was nothing else to do. Eyes darting quickly over to Bobby, Jeff saw that the boy’s rifle was pointed in their direction, but his eyes were glued to his father.

  “Keys are in the ignition.” Jeff grimaced at the pain that speaking brought. He leaned against Megan, still a bit woozy from the blow.

  “Stay here,” Fred commanded. “Bobby? Don’t let them out of your sight! I’m checking out the van.”

  “Okay, Dad.” Bobby sounded nervous, almost depressed, but the gun remained elevated and his eyes focused on the two clinging figures thirty feet in front of him.

  Jeff waited until Fred had walked away before he whispered in Megan’s ear, “Get ready.”

  She stiffened and looked him in the eyes. Nodding almost imperceptibly, Megan tensed. She knew George had her gun.

  Fred moved to the van. He glared at Jeff one last time and pointed his weapon at the vehicle. Moving in, he glanced quickly through the tinted windows behind the driver’s door. He looked closer for a moment. Satisfied, he inched up and stared inside. There were the keys, dangling from the ignition, just as Jeff had said. He did not see anyone, just a jumble of boxes and other crap strewn about, as if the minivan had been through an earthquake.

  Fred allowed himself a small grin as he moved the rifle to his left hand and pointed it skyward. Opening the door, he leaned in. The keys were pushed into the ignition completely, and the van started chirping in annoyance. He twisted the key and the engine turned over. The idle was a quiet purr, and the gas needle bounced from empty to almost full…a smidge below. His grin widened.

  The thrill lasted less than a second before he heard a distinct click.

  Fred froze, his rifle pointed straight up and, inconveniently, still outside the vehicle, along with his left arm. His head, chest, and right arm were completely exposed. He slowly turned his head at a downward angle and confirmed the fact that there was a handgun pointed at his face.

  George was sprawled on the floor, a blanket covering him except for the top of his head and the barrel of the gun, which was pointed at Fred.

  “Drop the rifle. DON’T move your head or even twitch a muscle.”

  It came out in a hiss. The man above him was glaring down with a mixture of anger and resentment. George returned the look.

  Fred paused for a moment, taking a deep breath. He looked like he was thinking over George’s command when he saw a head pop up from behind the second row of seats. Jason was holding Jeff’s gore-stained baseball bat.

  “You better do as he says.”

  “Jason! Get down. NOW!” George commanded. The boy kept his eyes on Fred as he ducked down to where he could still peek over the seat.

  Fred dropped the rifle and raised his hands, leaning out of the van but moving slowly. He continued to stare at Jason as George spoke to him.

  “Now call off your pal out there. Do it! I want our friends safe and sound back inside the van.”

  Fred stared down at the.357 Magnum. The look on his face made it clear he most definitely did not want to do as he was told. He began to turn away from the van but stopped quickly as the gun rose up and the boy in the back of the vehicle moved forward. Looking at both of them, Fred seemed to change his mind.

  “Bobby! Go back in the house and lock the door. Do it now.” There was not much enthusiasm in the command.

  “Daddy?” Bobby looked at his father, but his rifle never left Jeff and Megan.

  Fred looked at his son, his voice deflated. “Just do it, son. Get back in the house.”

  For a moment, Bobby goggled at his father, his mouth wide open and his eyes blinking rapidly. Then he started slowly moving off the porch.

  Fred turned toward his son, forgetting the gun pointed at him for a moment as anger colored his face. “Robert Charles Harrington! Get your ass back in that house right this minute!” Bobby froze and stared for a moment before his eyes turned to Jeff and Megan.

  The hope Jeff had that things might actually turn out okay disappeared the instant he saw the look on Bobby’s face.

  The kid moved toward him. The rifle was aimed at his head and didn’t waver.

  Jeff shoved Megan behind him as the boy moved closer. Bobby was within three feet, but almost all of the remaining distance was covered by the barrel of his rifle. Megan saw Jeff’s hands motioning for her to move away, to run, to do something.

  Fred continued to yell at his son from where he stood next to the van, but it was clear to Jeff that Bobby had decided to take things into his own hands.

  “Tell whoever’s in the van to let my father go.”

  His voice was steady. Bobby kept ignoring his father and pointed the rifle at Jeff’s forehead.

  Suddenly, Fred stopped yelling. He was still gawking at his son, but his face had changed. He looked afraid.

  “Bobby.” Fred’s voice was as steady as he could make it, the anger gone. “Bobby, listen to me. I made a mistake, a big mistake. I…I’m sorry son.” Fred looked back into the van for a moment. “I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have done this. I didn’t want to hurt anybody. You know that. I just wanted…I just wanted to find a way out of here.”

  The words got Bobby’s attention. He kept the rifle pointed at Jeff, but his eyes darted to his father. He was close enough to see the fear in his dad’s eyes. His head cocked sideways, and a look of confusion passed over his face.

  Just then, the passenger door of the Odyssey opened. Bobby’s eyes moved away from his father and he saw the woman who had been creeping backwards getting into the van.

  The confusion was gone. Bobby shifted the rifle and moved slightly to gain a clear view of the van door behind which the woman was hiding.

  Megan heard the sound of the rifle firing and an immediate thunk. She dropped to her knees behind the van door, desperately trying to shield herself. Looking up, she saw a small hole in the door. A second shot was fired, and she dove inside the van.

  Jeff had heard the van door open too. He could see the expression on Bobby’s face and knew what the kid was going to do. When he moved the rifle, Jeff tried to react immediately but couldn’t. His feet felt stuck in place. The first shot jolted him, but it took seeing Bobby throw the bolt on the rifle and the empty cartridge flying free before he was able to lunge for the boy.

  Bobby saw him coming and tried to level the rifle at him. The second shot went wild as they tumbled to the
ground. Jeff grabbed for the weapon and got a single hand on it as Bobby’s knee came up. They landed awkwardly, with Jeff twisting to the side. The blow knocked the wind out of him, but he avoided the knee intended for his crotch. Despite the pain of the attack, he managed to keep his hand tight on the rifle, even as the boy tried to wrench it free.

  * * *

  When George heard the van door open behind him, he shifted, fearful it was the other gunman. That was all Fred needed. He ran toward his son as Bobby fired the first shot. George heard it as well and then saw Megan dive into the van directly above him. He was relieved it was her but was already in a panic at having lost sight of Fred. He began trying to dislodge himself from his cramped position between the two chairs. As he did, he heard the distinct sound of one of the minivan’s side doors opening in its slow, methodical way. Panic jarred him, and he began struggling even harder. He started to yell, but it was already too late.

  “Jason! No!”

  * * *

  Fred wasn’t thinking about his lost rifle as he reached the spot where Jeff and Bobby were fighting. He lashed out with his foot and landed a grazing blow to the back of Jeff’s head, which snapped forward. Jeff crumpled to the ground. Barely conscious, he let go of the rifle and put his hands over his skull to shield it from further blows. Bobby was pushing him away, and Fred helped drag the boy out from underneath the bleeding man. Jeff rolled over onto his back, a dazed look on his face. Bobby scooted back as his father grabbed the rifle away from him.

  Fred pointed the weapon down at Jeff, a sad look on his face.

  “Fred?” Jeff’s eyes were blurry, and he wasn’t sure who was standing over him. He tried to prop himself up on one elbow, but dizziness claimed him, and he couldn’t manage it. “Fred, is that you?” The words were slurred, as if he were drunk.

  Fred put the rifle butt up against his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Jeff. But no one attacks my boy.” He lined up the sights, slipped his finger into the trigger guard, and took a deep breath.

  The world exploded. Jeff was trying to say “no” to the man he thought might be Fred when the man’s entire left side disappeared. He bucked forward, and a gout of blood burst from his chest. There were a couple of screams-one filled with anguish, the other more pitiful. Suddenly the man was falling.