Hello Darkness

by Sam Best

  The bushes to his left exploded outward with a violence that sent leaves and branches flying in all directions.

  “Watch it, Halsey!” shouted Marcus.

  He stepped out of the doorway and onto the parking lot, raised his shotgun, and fired.

  In the brief, brilliant orange flash that erupted from the muzzle of his gun, Karen saw the twisted face of a nightmare. Gleaming teeth and black eyes were visible in that lightning flash as a horrible beast jumped through the air.

  Marcus screamed and the creature barreled into him. His gun clattered to the ground and he was gone. The trees to the right of the parking lot swayed slightly after they parted for whatever carried him off into the night.

  Dead silence returned and Karen waited breathlessly, hugging Tommy to her, stroking his hair slowly.

  The headlights of her police cruiser glared to life and the engine roared. Blake cranked the wheel and floored it. The tires squealed loudly as the tail-end of the car swung wide. The gas nozzle sticking out of the tank snapped off as Blake guided the car to the front of the store.

  Karen helped Tommy down from the stool and held his hand as they ran outside. Blake leaned over the center console and popped the passenger door open as they approached. Tommy jumped inside and Karen quickly followed, slamming the door behind her as Blake peeled out of the parking lot and onto Main Street.

  Karen grabbed for the black radio receiver clipped to the bottom of the dash and pressed the transmit button.

  “Janet, are you there?”

  A moment of silence, then, “Karen?”

  “Janet! Listen to me. Lock the doors and don’t open them until I get there, do you understand me?”

  “What? No, I—”

  “Is Foster there with you?”

  “Walt? He’s in the back with the preacher.”

  “Good. You both stay there, okay?”

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’m rounding up everyone I can find and bringing them back to the station. I’ll call you when I’m on my way. Lock the doors!”

  “Karen, what’s wrong?”

  She hesitated. “There’s something out here, Janet. Something evil.”

  20

  Ben stood next to his Jeep and cracked his back. The face of his home stared at him; two large square eyes on both sides of a tall mouth that was the front door. The mouth opened and Heidi walked out onto the front porch, arms crossed against the expected but nonexistent winter chill.

  “Careful there,” said Ben, smiling. He pointed to a dark spot in the surface of the porch next to the door. “Still need to lay some plywood down.”

  Heidi carefully stepped around the pitfall and sat on the edge of the porch. Ben sat next to her and looked out at the dark forest behind the Cherokee. Heidi tried but failed to wipe away a tear from her eye without Ben noticing.

  “Where’s Annabelle?” he asked.

  “Upstairs with John. She was reading to him.” Heidi smiled and a second tear spilled over her bottom eyelid and tumbled down her cheek. “She’s such a sweet girl.”

  “Heidi, what’s wrong?”

  She breathed in deeply and straightened her back, staring ahead into the night. “It’s just that we’re both getting so old. Some mornings John wakes up and can’t get out of bed without help. One day it’s his back, then it’s his knee. And I’m not any better! I swear, Benjamin, sometimes it feels like I’m losing my mind. I forget things—easy things, like old recipes I’ve been cooking from for years and years.” She sighed. “It’s just so scary. And now all of this.” She gestured to the dark woods near the house. “That little girl and the sheriff. Life is just too short.”

  Ben rubbed her back. “You can stay here as long as you want. We would love to have you.”

  “Annabelle makes us so happy,” said Heidi. “Especially John.”

  “She tends to have that effect on people.”

  Heidi sniffed loudly and smiled as she wiped her tears away. “Thank you, Ben.” She smoothed down the front of her colorful sweater and took a deep breath. “How did it go with that man who took the girl?”

  “The preacher? Went alright, I guess. The shotgun helped. He’s at the Sheriff’s Office, hopefully locked up in a cell.”

  “John told me what he did to the sheriff.” Heidi shivered. “So awful. And that poor little girl. I can’t stop thinking about her.”

  “We’re going back to look for her in the morning.”

  Heidi gestured upstairs. “I don’t hear them anymore. Maybe they fell asleep.”

  “The old and the young,” said Ben. “So similar it’s scary.”

  Heidi swatted playfully at his shirtsleeve, then stood. “I’m going to check on them.”

  Ben looked up at the sky and saw the distant shine of stars through small breaks in the thick canopy overhead.

  Heidi turned back near the door. “Oh, did you ask him why he was in your shed?”

  “Who?” said Ben.

  “The preacher. Do you know what he was doing back there?”

  Ben frowned. “I didn’t ask him. I just assumed he was looking for a weapon or something like that.”

  Heidi shrugged. “Probably.” She pushed open the front door and walked into the house.

  Ben looked to the far end of the porch where it wrapped around the side of the house. A single wood two-by-four coated with peeling white paint ran along the top of the railing that leaned at a sad angle on the edge of the porch. Ben stood and followed the railing, stepping slowly to avoid any soft spots in the planks below his feet.

  He had just stepped around the corner of the house and caught sight of the rusty shed sitting in the deep shadows near the corner of the backyard when the crunching roll of tires on gravel grew louder behind him.

  Bright headlights swooped down over a small incline in the road that led to his house and a police cruiser skidded to a halt next to his Cherokee.

  A man Ben didn’t recognize sat in the passenger’s seat and a small boy sat next to him. Deputy Raines jumped out of the driver’s seat and stood by the car door.

  “Howard,” she said quickly. “Get your family together. We’re going to the station.”

  He stepped down off the porch and stopped. “What are you talking about?”

  “It isn’t safe here.”

  “I don’t understand. I thought the preacher was—”

  “It’s not the preacher,” she said. “Well, not just the preacher, anyway.” Her eyes flicked over the front of the house as if she wanted to avoid anyone else hearing what she had to say. She jogged over to Ben and spoke quickly but quietly. “There’s something else out there, Howard. Your family isn’t safe.”

  “We haven’t seen anything that—”

  The long, low howl of a wolf drifted across the night air; the note plateaued and resonated far longer than a normal cry.

  “It’s just a wolf,” said Ben. “We found prints in the backyard.”

  “It’s no wolf,” said Raines. She took a step closer. “Listen to me. The little boy’s family is gone. Probably dead. We can’t find anyone else.”

  “What do you mean you can’t find them?”

  “I mean they’re gone,” she said. “Everyone is gone.”

  Ben’s mouth was open but he could think of nothing to say. He looked back at his house and up at the second-floor window, which glowed warmly with soft yellow light.

  Karen reached out and squeezed his shoulder. “We need to leave. Now.”

  Ben nodded slowly. “Okay. We’ll meet you at the station.”

  “No. We stay together. Hurry.”

  Ben turned and went back inside.

  Heidi stood at the foot of the stairs that led to the second floor, wringing her hands nervously.

  “Benjamin, what’s happening?”

  “We have to leave, Aunt Heidi. We can’t stay here.”

  “Oh, no…”

  Ben took the stairs three at a time, pounding up to the second floor and shouting, “Annabel
le! John!” He ran into his old room as John sat up from the bed, rubbing his eyes. Annabelle smiled at Ben when she saw him.

  “Why all the shouting?” said John. “I’m not deaf yet.”

  “We’re leaving,” said Ben. “Deputy Raines is here to take us to the station.”

  “Are we in trouble, Daddy?”

  Ben bent down and picked up his daughter, then rested her butt on his hip. “No, sweetheart. The nice deputy just wants to take us on a little adventure, that’s all. We’re going to visit the police station.”

  Ben could tell that John sensed his urgency and wanted to ask him what was really happening, but he put on a happy face for Annabelle. “Right,” said John. “We’ll need some toys for the road.”

  Anna pointed at a couple of books that lay on the floor next to the bed and John picked them up. “And Mr. Hops!” she said happily. John grabbed the overstuffed rabbit from the bed and tucked it under Annabelle’s arms.

  “All set?” he said.

  Anna nodded and rubbed her cheek against the overstuffed rabbit. Ben descended the stairs quickly, keeping one hand on the well-worn railing and the other on his daughter’s back. Heidi stood at the base of the stairs, a look of worry on her face. Raines was gone and the front door was closed.

  “Where is she?” said Ben.

  “There was a noise,” said Heidi. “Outside. She left.”

  Ben set Annabelle on the ground and guided her hand into Heidi’s. “I’ll be right back,” he said. Heidi pulled Anna close to her leg and rested her hand on the little girl’s head.

  “Daddy…”

  “It’s okay, Belle.”

  Ben’s hand was almost on the door handle when it turned in its setting. He stepped back just as the door flew inward and bounced off the wall with a loud crack. Raines ran inside dragging the boy with one hand and clutching a pump-action shotgun with the other. The man from the car followed and quickly closed the door behind him. He clicked the deadbolt into place.

  He rested his back against the wooden door and was about to speak when something slammed into the door and launched him over to the staircase. He hit the railing hard and fell to the ground.

  The door bounced in its frame and bowed inward from another impact. Ben hurried forward and pressed his shoulder against the door.

  SLAM.

  The remaining unbroken windows in the door shattered inward, raining shards of glass on Ben’s head.

  Raines helped the fallen man off the floor and he held up his hand to let her know he was unharmed.

  “What the hell is it?” said Ben.

  “I don’t know,” said Karen.

  SLAM.

  John stood next to Ben at the door and leaned against it with all his weight. “Maybe you could shoot it?” he said casually, looking down at the pistol in her holster and the shotgun in her hand.

  She pumped a slug into the chamber and moved to the door, standing next to Ben and gripping the shotgun tightly.

  SLAM.

  Ben and John bounced off the door and fell against it with their shoulders.

  “After the next one,” said Karen.

  Ben nodded.

  SLAM.

  Ben grabbed the handle and flung open the door. Karen stuck out the barrel of the shotgun—but the porch was empty.

  “Where is it?!” said Heidi.

  “Daddy I’m scared!”

  “It’s okay, Belle. It’s okay.” He turned to Heidi. “Get the kids upstairs.”

  She stood there, eyes wide, shaking. John walked to her and gently pulled her toward the stairs. “Come, my dear. We’ll go together.” He guided Anna, the boy, and Heidi up the stairs. Ben heard them walk into his old bedroom and close the door.

  Karen stepped slowly back into the house and shut the door. She lowered the shotgun and let out a deep breath.

  “So what the hell is it?” said Ben.

  “I truly don’t know.”

  “She saw it,” said the man from the car. “At the gas station.”

  “Who are you?” said Ben.

  “Blake Halsey.” He offered his hand, which Ben shook.

  “Ben Howard.”

  Karen stood on her tiptoes and looked out through the glassless windows in the door. “The boy is Tommy Bridges. We found him by the gas station. He thinks his parents were killed by…by the…”

  “By whatever the hell it is,” said Blake.

  “You saw it?” asked Ben.

  Karen nodded. “I saw a—a flash. Teeth. Eyes. It was horrible. I see it every time I close my eyes. It took Marcus at the gas station.” She looked outside. “It’s still out there.”

  “What’s it doing?”

  “Walking around. I see movement in the woods.”

  Ben rubbed his eyes. “We need to run for the cars.”

  Blake shook his head. “It’s too fast. No time to even raise a gun before it’s on you.”

  Ben’s shoulders sank. “Damn.”

  “What?”

  “I left my shotgun in the Jeep.”

  Blake took a few steps into the sitting room and turned back. “Something’s not right.”

  “No shit,” said Karen.

  “If that thing wanted to get inside, we couldn’t stop it. Those hinges,” he said, pointing to the door, “wouldn’t stop a determined human, let alone whatever that thing is. We need to barricade ourselves inside.”

  “Is it toying with us?” said Ben.

  “Who cares?” said Karen. “Blake’s right. Help me.” She leaned her shotgun against the wall and lifted one side of the couch next to Blake. He bent down and picked up the other end. The two of them carried it over to the front door and set it down, then pushed the back of it up under the door handle.

  “Back door?” said Blake.

  “In the kitchen.”

  Blake hurried through the sitting room and disappeared around the wall leading to the kitchen.

  “Where’s your phone?” asked Karen.

  “Not connected yet,” said Ben.

  “Jesus, Howard.”

  “I wasn’t expecting anything like this to happen!” he said hotly. He sighed. “Who could ever expect something like this?”

  Blake came back into the room and carried away an end-table. A moment later Ben heard furniture scooting across the hard kitchen floor.

  “Guys!” shouted Blake. “We have a problem.”

  Ben and Karen hurried into the kitchen, then into the dining room. Blake stood next to the dining table, staring at the glass of the large window that opened on a view of the backyard.

  “There’s no way to block that,” he said.

  “Turn the table up on end for now,” said Ben. “It’s the best we can do.”

  He and Blake each grabbed one side of the heavy oak table and leaned it onto its side, then pushed the top surface up against the window. They shoved the chairs against it for good measure.

  “How long are we supposed to stay here?” asked Ben. “Is there any kind of plan?”

  “The plan is to stay alive,” said Raines.

  Ben’s eyes lifted to the ceiling as if he were watching his daughter through the walls of the house.

  A door opened upstairs and John shouted, “Someone’s outside! Out front!”

  Ben ran into the living room and stood up on the couch to look out through the small broken windows in the door. Karen and Blake stood next to him.

  “What do you see?”

  Ben squinted into the dark woods. Beyond his Cherokee, the silhouette of a man running down the driveway was barely visible. The man kept turning back to look over his shoulder as he approached the house.

  “It’s Walt,” said Ben. He looked over at Karen. “Something’s chasing him.”

  Foster’s legs churned beneath him as he ran. He cupped his hands to his mouth and shouted, “Open the door! Open the door!”

  “What’s chasing him?” said Blake.

  “I can’t see—there’s nothing on the road.”

  “Move,”
said Karen. “Let him in.”

  Ben jumped off the couch and Karen pulled it away from the door. She picked up her shotgun and held it aimed at chest-height. Ben gripped the door handle and looked outside through one of the windows. Walt jumped up onto the porch and Ben flung open the door just in time. Walt hurtled inside and ran into the couch. His forward momentum flipped him over the back and sent him tumbling past the cushions and onto the floor. He rolled to a stop against the base of the stairs as Ben slammed the door closed and pushed the couch back into place.

  Foster lay there panting.

  “I don’t see anything,” said Ben, looking outside.

  “They almost got me,” said Foster.

  “‘They’?” said Blake. “How many were there?”

  “Little crawling bastards,” said Foster. He pushed himself up and sat against the stair railing. He wiped at a streak of blood on the side of his face, smearing it downward in a broad swath.

  “Foster, how many were there?” said Raines. “Where’s Janet? Why aren’t you at the station?”

  He breathed heavily and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, they were unfocused and distant. “It got inside,” he said.

  “It? I thought you said there were a lot of them.”

  “It got inside. It got inside. It got inside and—and—and everyone in the city is dead.” Sweat beading his forehead formed into droplets and rolled into his eyes. Foster wiped them away with the backs of his hands.

  Ben looked at him carefully. “Where’s your cruiser? You ran all the way here? With that thing chasing you?”

  “Yes, Howard,” said Foster with anger. “Yes, I ran all the way to your goddam house. But the thing in the station didn’t follow me.”

  “So what’s out there?” said Karen.

  Foster shook his head slowly from side to side, then leaned it back against the stair railing with a hollow thud. “I don’t believe it,” he said, then laughed. “That damn preacher.”

  The bedroom door opened upstairs and John’s voice called down. “Ben? You should come up here.”

  Ben climbed the stairs as quietly as he could, not wanting to attract the thing lurking in the shadows outside his house. It was more for his own peace of mind because Blake was right: there would be no stopping it once it decided to come after them.