The Darkness

by Matt Brennan

  “Wait, everything I own is in that snowcat. And so is the .22 you gave me.”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll give you more stuff. This place is my home, but it’s not where I keep everything I own. I have twenty-five caches. You’ll be fine. But we should head out. This tunnel leads straight to the power station and to my boat.”

  My head is spinning. “Your what? Wait, I don’t just up and run without knowing what’s going on.”

  She sighs. “Look slick, you’re coming with me and I’m getting us to safety. Once we get there, we’ll get you another pack.”

  “But my mother’s hard drive with all of her work is in that pack.”

  She rolls her eyes. “Sorry, but we have to go now!”

  I spot the button behind the towel rack that raised the wall opposite the tub, and move my hand towards it. “Hey, how does this wall work? Seems dangerous to have a door right here that opens up to the house. What if someone finds the tunnel and tries to use it?”

  She sighs. “It only opens from in there.”

  I look her dead in the eye. “Good.”

  Then I hit the button and the wall closes in a blur before she can step back inside. She starts banging on the wall and yelling, but all I can do is say, “Sorry Lyssa, but I need ten minutes, well maybe fifteen.”

  She stops pounding and yells, “For what? Hello? For what?”

  I unbuckle my pants and lift the toilet seat, drop my pants and sit. I’m way too preoccupied to answer; besides, I’m trying to block her out. I’m not used to performing for an audience and I really have to go.

  CHAPTER TWO

  It takes me five minutes to figure out which combination of controls lifts the wall to get out the bathroom door. Lyssa was, of course, no help. She didn’t want me to go outside and refused to listen when I told her every second I wasted, the greater the chance I’d get caught. And I was going no matter what. Regardless about how I feel about my mom, I can’t let her life’s work go as if it was nothing. I have to get it. It’s the only thing I have left of my parents and I’m not letting it go.

  Well, that and the note from my dad in my pocket.

  I’m not an idiot though. Before I leave I check the security feeds and see no sign of human life anywhere in the compound. Well, to be honest, I’m not entirely sure I saw all of the compound mostly because I’m not really a hundred percent sure I know how many buildings there are. But I looked long enough to ease my nerves.

  I race out the door of the bathroom and across the now empty darkened room. I move the curtain aside and open the door in one fluid motion. I dash out into the snow and race to the garage. I easily open the door and jump inside. I freeze when I realize that the snowcat is gone. I almost in panic-mode, when I remember Lyssa hit something just inside the door before she closed the garage last night. I turn and look in the same area, but I don’t see anything except a pipe running up to the ceiling along the wall in the corner. I’m about to give up the search, when I decide to try and move the pipe. A lengthy section gives easily and then the floor where the snowcat once sat splits open. Some kind of elevator system raises the snowcat up to floor level.

  After I get over my shock of the power behind the lift, I race to the door of the snowcat, grab my backpack and the .22 rifle I stashed, and slam the door shut. I race to the door and push the pipe back in place and the snowcat lowers itself back into the floor. I close the garage door and turn to head back to the hangar, but I stop in my tracks.

  There’s a man walking out of one of the buildings 300 yards to the north of my position.

  He is dressed just like the other men on the security feed. Clearly Lyssa was right and they had a scout neither of us had seen. I shake my head when I realize she is never going to let me live this down. If I survive, that is.

  From where I’m standing, the man seems to be moving in the opposite direction from the hangar and I let out a silent sigh of relief. He must be reconnoitering the compound, taking the logical progression from one building to the other. If he stays on his current path, he’ll end up hitting the big main building and once he’s inside, I’ll be able to get back to the hangar. It was one of the first buildings I looked in myself when I got here, so it makes sense he’d want to check it out. But at the last moment he stops and eyes the main building up and down. He reaches up and scratches his chin and then looks at the smaller outbuildings. Then back at the main building. He shakes his head and begins walking straight for me.

  My stomach shifts violently in my gut.

  This isn’t a video game. If he sees me, two things are gonna happen and both of them are bad. Either I kill him or he kills me. I do the math in my head and it doesn’t look so hot for me. This guy is basically an experienced serial killer. He actually eats people for a living. He won’t hesitate. As for me?

  I’m screwed!

  I clutch my rifle and then slowly pull back the bolt and slide a bullet into the chamber, just like Lyssa taught me. The wind is howling so hard that I know there’s no way he could hear the tiny clicks that it makes from this distance, but I cringe anyway. I curse myself for not having a bullet chambered already and vow never to hold a gun that isn’t ready to fire again.

  He’s closed the distance between us to around three hundred feet. With the driving wind in my face I know I’m no threat at all to him. Before yesterday, I’d never even held a real gun. So hitting a person from 300 feet in the driving wind is impossible. I’ll just have to wait till he gets closer. I know the closer he gets the likelier it becomes that he’ll see me. Catch-22, but there’s nothing I can do.

  But instead of continuing towards me, he changes direction and walks towards Lyssa’s hangar. If he rounds the corner and sees my track, the element of surprise is over.

  It suddenly hits me that I’m actually thinking about shooting someone. This isn’t a video game and he won’t get a second life. I’m planning on shooting a man I have never met before and who has not injured me personally at all.

  What planet is this?

  When he reaches the shed, he tries the fake front door. I know it’s fake because I did the same thing when I first arrived. He cups his hand over his eyes and tries to peer in through the dusty window. He must have seen all he wants to see because he spins around and starts walking back towards me.

  I think I’m going to puke.

  He’s going to have to get so close to me, that I’ll be able to see the look in his face when I shoot. This is so surreal.

  He stops again, and shakes his head. Then he walks back and stands in front of the door, giving it a strong kick. When he does, all the snow that was on the roof above the fake door gives way, and a tidal wave of snow hits him dead in the face, knocking him to the ground.

  I almost jump out from m cover, either to rush in to attack him or perhaps to dash into the hangar, I’m not sure which, but he jumps back to his feet faster than I would have thought possible, and so I stay put. He trains his gun at the shed, chambers a bullet, but stops short of firing.

  I’m close enough so I can hear him say, “Screw this! If Jacques wants this place searched, he can come here and do it his damn self, he can, eh!”

  Then he spins and begins trudging off in the direction he came from. I lean back on the door, breathe a sigh of relief, and switch the safety back on. I can’t believe what I had been just about to do.

  When he is out of sight, I dash back to the hangar and grab a broom. Then I go outside and cover all our tracks as best as I can. I’m hoping the constant snowfall will hide my efforts even more.

  By the time I’m back in the bathroom, hitting the switch to open the panel so I can join Lyssa, I’m exhausted. That’s probably why I didn’t see her fist coming before she hit me dead on the chin. I fall like a sack of potatoes.

  Lyssa stands over me and kicks me in the ribs a few times before I manage to grab her leg and take her down.

  “Hey, it’s me! It’s only me!”

  “Why do you think I’m hitting so hard?”
>
  I finally grab her arms, roll her over on her back, and pin her to the ground, “Look, stop! I’m sorry, but I couldn’t leave my mother’s hard drive behind and hope they didn’t find it!”

  Lyssa spits in my face and knees me in a place it never occurred to me to protect. I instantly double over in pain and curl up into a fetal position. I can quite honestly tell you from experience, it hurt way worse than getting The Darkness did.

  You know, the plague that killed everyone? That’s what we call it anyway: The Darkness.

  I don’t know how much history you’ve had, but the plague isn’t just one virus—it’s actually three. No one I’ve talked to (including my parents, which says a lot) could explain to me exactly how it works, but somehow the genes of three completely different viruses ended up melding together inside a human host. You can catch two of the strains, but not all three. Like, I had one—the measles. The other is a simple foamy virus that scientists used for gene therapy. It’s nothing special really. In fact, on its own, it isn’t even harmful to humans, but as a retrovirus it’s the force that makes the darkness tick. It was released by accident when some technician messed up and got infected back in 2013. Believe it or not, the third one isn’t even a human virus at all, but rather a bacteriophage, which is a virus that only attacks bacteria. Unfortunately for humans, this one infects the most common species of bacteria on the planet—that crap is literally everywhere.

  At first, the outbreaks were isolated. It was a lot like the SARS epidemic and the West Nile virus outbreaks of the early twenty-first century. There were a few fatalities, but the World Health Organization (WHO) was more than ready for the outbreak and started an aggressive isolation and treatment regiment.

  They even attempted to quell the spread of virus by re-inoculating folks for rubella because, before we understood the melding, doctors had made the connection that only those who had contracted German measles seemed affected, at first.

  But then get this, some nutcase in Hollywood said the vaccines were actually the cause of the mutation, not the solution; which was a brilliant deduction since the vaccines were started after the outbreak had already begun. Anyway, she claimed that some additive in the vaccine caused the mutation in the strain, not to mention it had horrible side effects. All total bull of course, but it led to this huge revolt against the mandatory immunization process.

  If it weren’t for that twit, there’s no telling what might have happened. Maybe everyone would all still be alive today. I wish I could remember her name, but then again who cares! No need to glorify that reckless idiot. She died in the first outbreak, so there was at least some justice left in the universe.

  My mother would never say one way or the other if the vaccine could have avoided a worldwide epidemic; after all, it wasn’t a cure. It just slowed the spread of the virus down. But she did think it would have allowed more people to reach safety. You see, according to my mom, the vaccine put inert antigens of the rubella in your system. These antigens forced the body to make antibodies to prepare for an infection, should it attempt to assert itself. But according to her research, it was these antibodies that were crucial in the melding. Something about a special protein or something in the antibodies, I don’t know. My mother insisted that since the amount of antigens were so miniscule in the vaccines, if the person then got the foamy virus and bacteriophage, the development of the darkness would be considerably slower and might even burn itself out before total infection occurred and more antibodies were made. It had something to do with competition for resources with the healthy cells and evolution or something.

  I dunno, I can’t remember why exactly. It never made sense to me.

  Keep in mind though, the darkness, can also be contracted without the melding. If you come in contact with someone who has it, then you’re dead.

  Crazy, huh?

  Lyssa stands and grabs her assault rifle, “You ever do anything like that again, you won’t have to worry about those monsters out there!” She kicks me in the ribs, “Because I’ll kill you myself! Now, get up! Because of you, we don’t have much time.”

  With that she dashes down the stairs in the opening in the wall. I, on the other hand, do not move. I’m afraid to do anything actually. I can’t help but feel moving will make the pain in my stomach and crotch worse somehow. I’m not sure how, but I know deep down inside that staying completely still in this position is my only chance to avoid further agony and eventual death.

  Lyssa pokes her head back. “If you don’t come now, I’m leaving without you.”

  I manage to just groan out, “Go ahead. I’ll just lay here and die.”

  Lyssa rolls her eyes. “Aww, come on! Don’t be such a wuss. I can’t hurt that bad.”

  I glare at her. “I only wish I could put them on you and kick them again so you would know just how wrong you are!”

  Lyssa smiles and sits. “Look, it’s possible I over reacted.”

  I snap, “Ya think?”

  She smirks. “I don’t take well to people taking control. I even hated it when my dad would do it, but he was my dad. He was allowed.”

  “Well, that goes for me too. I needed my pack. I wasn’t leaving without it. I’ve been calling the shots for myself for three years and I’ve been doing just fine. You want me to do something. I would appreciate it if you ask. And be prepared for me to say no if so I choose. Just like I’m saying no now. Just leave me to die.”

  Lyssa clearly didn’t like that statement but nodded her head. “Fine, you’re right. I’m sorry for not listening to you. I’m also sorry for kneeing you.”

  “Well, I’m sorry for locking you in the dark tunnel.”

  She stands. “All right, enough pleasantries! Get your ass up off the floor already and let’s go!”

  I begrudgingly start to move and learn that I was absolutely correct about it hurting way worse to move. Somehow I get to my feet and carefully stumble after Lyssa.

  The stone stairs leading down spiral like the old turrets in those medieval movies I used to watch. I can barely see anything. The light coming from upstairs is dim and getting dimmer.

  “Hold on.” I reach into my pack and feel around for my matches. I light a candle and hand it to Lyssa, fetching another for myself. And we continue on.

  It feels like we have been going down forever. I lose count of how many steps we take. But there are only two options, up and down. We know what’s up, so down is the only other option. Besides, Lyssa must know where we’re going.

  Finally, we reach the bottom of the steps, it feels like we dropped three hundred feet or more, but it could just as easily have only been thirty. At the bottom there is chamber and big doorway, with a heavy chain and lock on it.

  “Man! How are we supposed to get through that?”

  Lyssa smiles. “That’s the decoy dummy. Over here.”

  She turns and walks behind the stairs we just came down and I see a narrow opening behind them. She disappears under them and I can clearly see a passageway. She beckons me to follow. Once I climb through, she pulls a stone door closed that I hadn’t noticed before.

  Lyssa passes by me. “It won’t lock, but if you don’t know it’s there, it’s hard to find. It was dad’s idea to make our escape a bit more secure. He figured it would take them ten to fifteen minutes to open that big door and find nothing but solid rock behind it. Then maybe, depending on how smart they were, fifteen minutes to find the other doorway. Heck, if they’re stupid enough, they might not find it at all.”

  Her dad and sounded a lot like mine. Again, I’m not surprised. As I’ve said, you had to be crafty and smart to survive the darkness. And they didn’t just survive, they thrived!

  The tunnel is short, just barely high enough for me to walk bent over. I have no idea how long it is, because the candlelight only goes so far. But it feels very confining. I’m tempted to mention my recent bout of claustrophobia, but I don’t want to come off like even more of a wimp than I already have, not to mention I’m a littl
e worried about it taking hold of me if I talk about it.

  So instead, I grit my teeth and follow.

  After two or three hundred feet, the tunnel starts to slope downhill a bit dramatically. I’m almost afraid it’s going to drop off completely. The tunnel goes on like this for about two hundred and fifty feet and then levels off. I start to think about how far under the ground we are and feel a bit of panic well up in my chest. Sweat starts rolling off my brow in streams. Just when I’m about to shout out in terror to let me out, we emerge from the tunnel into a big room filled with seven or eight big turbines.

  “Is this the damn?”

  Lyssa shakes her head, “No, this is a power plant downstream. Come on, we have to get to the boat and then to the bridge before they find the surveillance room.”

  “Why, what would finding the control room do?”

  Lyssa starts running. “It would lead them right to us stupid! We don’t have any cameras past the bridge. But we have a long way to go before we get there.”

  I try to keep up, but really, I’m in horrible physical condition. Again, I curse myself for not following my father’s exercise routines. At one point, she gets so far ahead I lose her altogether. I keep running, but it’s no good. I’m totally lost.

  I stop, and just manage to wheeze out, “LYSSA! Wait up! I don’t know which way you went!”

  All I hear is silence.

  Great.

  I start jogging again in the direction I think she was heading and see a long passage that leads to a big door that is part way open. She must have gone through there. I race down the passageway and nearly fall into a raging river below me. The doorway goes to nowhere.

  I look below and see Lyssa struggling with a canoe below me. I scream to her, but the water is so loud she obviously can’t hear. I look back and see some stairs going down. I hope her plan is not to hop into that river because that would be the dumbest idea ever.

  I run down the stairs and find the door out to where she is with the canoe.