The Darkness After: A Novel

by Scott B. Williams

  April saw the look of surprise in Mitch’s face. She knew he wouldn’t ask her to do something like that, especially since she had already been delayed getting back to Kimberly so many times.

  “April, I can’t let you do that,” Mitch said. “It’s far too dangerous and . . .”

  But April cut him off. “I can’t let you go alone to face all those men. Do you think I could just go on to Hattiesburg with those two teenaged girls in the hands of those cretins? There is no question about it. I’m going.”

  April wasn’t giving him further opportunity to argue with her. She would go with him and they would give the men who inflicted this much pain on others a taste of their own medicine, just as they had done to the three who had attacked her on the highway. But first, they needed to figure out what to do about Jason. He needed medical attention, but that was impossible.

  “We take him back to the house,” Mitch said. “That’s all we can do. There’s food and water and he’ll be relatively safe there until we get back. We can’t go driving up there with this tractor towing a boat anyway, so we might as well take it back there. Besides, we’ll need that canoe we left down at the creek.”

  “Canoe?”

  “Yes. The Wallace place is on a small tributary that runs into Black Creek from the north side. We can reach it by paddling downstream about five miles from where we left the canoe. We can paddle up the branch a little ways, then we’ll have to leave the boat and go on foot. One thing about doing it this way is that we’ll be approaching their place from behind, where there’s nothing but woods and swamp. They’ll never expect that, and besides, I doubt they’re expecting anyone to come for the girls anyway. They left Jason there to die and probably figure he did. They’ll be watching the road out front, of course, but not that little branch down in the woods, especially not at night.”

  “At night? Do you mean tonight?” April asked.

  “Hell yes, tonight! As soon as we can get there! You don’t know how hard it is for me to resist the temptation to just drive this tractor straight there right now with this shotgun blasting. But I know I’ve got to be smart about this. I can’t take any chances that Lisa or Stacy might be hit by a stray bullet in a gunfight, or that they won’t simply use them as hostages once they figure out what’s happening. No, it’s got to be a total surprise, an attack coming out of nowhere. Hit them hard before they know they’re being hit, and the best way to do that is to go tonight. But it will be easier to sneak in there in the dark, and we’ve got all night to do it. We just need to get Jason up in that boat and pull the trailer back to the house.”

  “I want to go,” Jason said. “This is all my fault.”

  “It’s not your fault,” Mitch said. “It’s those sons of bitches’ faults. They are opportunists, just like a lot of others that are taking advantage of this situation. They deserve what they’re going to get, just like the three that made the mistake of messing with April here. Sorry I didn’t introduce you, but we’ll fill in the details later.”

  “Good to meet you, April,” Jason said. “I’m sure you’re plenty tough, but I’ve got to go with y’all. You need my help, too.”

  “Out of the question,” Mitch said. “You can’t even walk. We’ll have to go a half-mile or more on foot, in the dark and without making a sound. Besides, there’s only room for two of us in the canoe. We’re going to get you to the house and get you something to eat and a weapon so you can defend yourself if anyone shows up, then April and I are going to be on our way, if she really wants to get into this,” he said as he looked at her again.

  “Nothing could stop me,” April said.

  “Then let’s get going. You get one arm and I’ll get the other. Let’s get Jason loaded up and get out of here.”

  EIGHTEEN

  April climbed up into the John boat on the trailer with Jason while Mitch drove the tractor, running it wide-open back the way they’d come as fast as it would go until he turned back into the lane and pulled up in front of the house again. It was almost dark by then, and together he and April helped Jason inside as quickly as possible. There was little time to do much for him other than try and make him somewhat comfortable and fix him something hot to eat. They guided him to Mitch’s bedroom, then Mitch gathered all the candles he could find in the house and placed them within reach on the nightstand. He opened the gun safe again and got out his old Savage 20-gauge pump and a couple of boxes of shells for it so that Jason would not be unarmed while he waited for them to get back. April unpacked the propane stove Mitch had stashed in the boat, and using a big pot from the kitchen, heated several cans of vegetable soup all mixed together so they could all share a meal before the two of them left on their rescue mission.

  Mitch and April both agreed upon closer examination that none of Jason’s injuries were life-threatening, but the broken bones in his hand and his shattered knee would take lots of time to heal, and they’d probably never be right again without proper medical care. Mitch didn’t know what to do about that, but there was no time to be concerned with it. He was lucky to be alive at all, and Mitch was honestly quite surprised that those Wallace brothers didn’t simply shoot him before they left with the girls and the truck. At least he and April had gotten him off the road and brought him someplace safe. With food and water available, he would be okay until they returned.

  When they had finished eating, Mitch went back outside to sort out what they would need for their nighttime raid on the Wallace place. He was taking the Remington 870, of course, and he filled his pockets with extra double-aught buckshot shells and a few slugs. Just like his dad, he felt better about using the shotgun in the dark than any rifle, and he expected that when he did use it tonight, it would be at close range. He thought about getting another shotgun for April, but since she was more familiar with the rifle’s light recoil, she would be better off with it. He hoped he wouldn’t even need her help, but it was nice to know she had a weapon she was familiar with and would have his back if something went wrong.

  The .357 Magnum was still on his belt, of course, and he slung his quiver of broadhead-tipped arrows over his shoulder opposite the shotgun sling and picked up his hunting bow—the same one he’d been carrying. He was not about to attempt anything this dangerous without it. Silence was a big factor in maintaining the element of surprise that might enable the two of them to pull this off, despite being outnumbered.

  He went back inside and checked to see that April had her spare magazine for the Mini 14, and then he sorted out a few other essentials, like his hunting knife, compass, two small battery-powered flashlights, waterproof matches, and a canteen in which they could carry a small supply of drinking water to get them through the night. April was still wearing the clothes she’d had on when they met. She could move okay in them, but the shirt was too bright for a nighttime raid like this. Mitch went to his mom’s room to find something else.

  “You’d better change into this,” he said. “I think it will fit you okay.” He handed her a plain black sweatshirt that his mom liked to wear when she went for walks.

  “We’ll have to sneak up pretty close, won’t we?”

  “Yes. You, not so much, with that rifle, but I want to be in bow range before they even know we’re there. You can cover me, but I think I can hit them before they know what’s happening.”

  “I suppose we won’t be asking them to give us back the truck and release Lisa and Stacy, then?”

  “No,” Mitch said. “I don’t plan on asking them anything. After you go in there and change, I’ve got something else that will help, too.” He held it up for her to see.

  “What is that?”

  “Camouflage makeup. We’ll use it to black out our faces. Faces shine at night like you wouldn’t believe. They’re a dead giveaway. They use it in the military, especially in the Special Forces. Some bow-hunters use it, too, especially hunting turkeys, because they have such good eyesight. That’s what I have it for. The deer hunters around here mostly shoot from lo
ng range in an elevated shooting house, so they don’t bother.”

  “I’m all for it then if it’ll help us sneak in. I sure don’t want to get shot at.”

  “Me neither. Not if there’s anyway I can help it. Here, I’ll put it on your face if you’ll do mine. That’d be easier than trying to do it in the mirror with candlelight.”

  Mitch waited while April went in the other room and changed her shirt. When she came back, she walked up and stood close to him, pulling her hair back away from her face with both hands and looking him directly in the eye, causing him to feel that old familiar unease he always felt when in close proximity to a girl—especially one as attractive as April.

  “How much experience do you have doing a girl’s makeup?” she asked.

  “Exactly none,” Mitch said. “Well, I put this stuff on my sister once when we were playing hide and seek.”

  “I trust you can get it right. Go ahead, paint me up.”

  Mitch squeezed some of the dark green cream from one of the tubes onto his index finger and reached out to gently apply two broad strips on each of her cheekbones. He fought to keep his hand from trembling as he felt the smooth silkiness of her skin under his fingertip. “It’s paint all right,” he said. “War paint.” He overcame his nervousness at the thought of how serious what they were about to undertake really was, and how much was at stake. He followed the green with a few more dabs and streaks of black, so that when he was done, April’s face was mottled and dark, with nothing bright remaining except her blue-green eyes.

  “Okay, my turn to paint,” she said. Mitch stood as still as he could while she made her careful and delicate strokes. He was sure she was doing a better job than he did, but that’s not what he was thinking about. Her touch took away any thoughts he might have had about camouflage paint. Once again he found himself struggling to hide the effect she had on him. It was so incredibly unfair to finally have met such a beautiful girl who was so outgoing, tough, and resourceful, and that he could find so much in common with, only to know that he would never have a chance with her because she was already taken—the mother of another man’s child.

  When she was done, she took him by the hand and pulled him to the bathroom mirror. “Oh my God,” she said, when she saw her own face in the candlelight. “I look like the creature from the Black Lagoon, crossed with Rambo!”

  Mitch looked at his own green and black mask, curving, symmetrical lines and concentric circles like the facial tattoos of a Maori warrior. It was much more sophisticated than the streaks and blobs he had painted on April. If one of those Wallace brothers saw that face in the firelight, he would likely have a heart attack, but Mitch was counting on none of them seeing a thing.

  “Okay, it’s time to go,” he said. They went back to where Jason was resting on Mitch’s bed. “We’re on our way out,” Mitch said. “I’ll be back as soon as possible, but not without Lisa and Stacy, no matter how long it takes.”

  They left the house with Mitch leading the way into the field beyond the barn, going back to Black Creek the same way they’d come when he’d brought her here after they stashed the canoe. Mitch could hardly believe that all had happened earlier that very day. Time was really getting distorted in this new reality, as each day was packed full of so many events and decisions that the days seemed as long as weeks had in the old world of mundane, everyday life.

  There was enough starlight and he knew the way well enough that they did not have to turn on the small L.E.D. flashlights they carried until they reached the edge of the woods. He had warned April that they were absolutely not to use them once they reached the creek. Out on the water, he knew he could see well enough to navigate by starlight, and the moon would be up later when they made their way up the tributary that ran by the Wallace place.

  Mitch could have found his way to the place they left the canoe even without the flashlights if he had to. He had no fear of the dark and often wandered the woods of their land at night, especially in cooler weather when there was no worry of stepping on a nocturnal rattlesnake. The danger of snakes was the only reason that he even brought the lights, but he didn’t want to worry April with that, so he just told her to stick close and walk right behind him.

  When they reached the big hardwood trees of the bottomlands close to the creek, a sudden sound like rushing wind, followed by the crashing of something heavy running through the pitch black forest caused April to grab Mitch by the arm and pull him to a stop near her.

  Mitch suppressed a quiver at her sudden touch. “Just a deer blowing,” he said. “They snort like that when they catch the scent of danger.”

  “Damn! I didn’t know what that was. I thought it was a bear!” she whispered.

  “I know. It is surprising the first time you hear it. There are all kinds of weird sounds out here at night, but once you know what they are, they’re no big deal. The canoe should be right over here.”

  He took a silent, deep breath and led the way into a thicket of bay shrubs. The canoe was just as they’d left it, still covered with the branches and debris they’d piled on to make it less obvious. They flipped it over so they could grab the carry handles at each end. Mitch took the bow and guided them through the underbrush and down the slope the rest of the way to the banks of the creek. When they emerged from the forest, the gurgling waters of the creek shimmered and sparkled in the faint starlight. Mitch slid the canoe in and held it steady while April climbed to the bow, inadvertently allowing the butt stock of the Ruger carbine to bang loudly against the aluminum gunwale.

  “Sorry!” she whispered. “I’ll be more careful next time.”

  “It’s okay,” he whispered back. “It’s not likely there’s anyone anywhere near here. But when we get down to that branch, we’re going to have to be super quiet. It’d be best to take that rifle off your shoulder and lay it down carefully in the bottom. That way that won’t happen again.”

  “Okay.”

  Mitch placed his own weapons in the hull in front of him and slipped into the stern seat, using his paddle to push off from the sandy shallows. When the canoe floated free, he steered it out to midstream where there was the most light, and then began a slow but steady stroke to get them moving downriver. It was too dark to go at maximum speed, even though that was relatively slow in a canoe like this. There were too many snags and other obstructions in the current that could capsize an unwary paddler, and though he was anxious to get to Lisa as soon as possible, he knew better than to take foolish chances and mess up everything by dumping the boat and losing their weapons. Besides, even at a careful pace, they would get to the tributary in less than two hours. Mitch wasn’t sure exactly how far they would have to walk from there to reach the Wallace place, but the road they lived on wasn’t much more than a mile from Black Creek, so he knew it couldn’t be too far.

  Because of the darkness, he asked April not to paddle, but instead to help him look for obstructions from her vantage point in the bow. Listening to the sound of the running water was as useful to him in the dark as trying to see, and he didn’t want the dipping of her paddle drowning out the sounds of subtle changes in the current that could tell him where shoals or underwater logs were. They rounded bend after bend in silence until the stillness was shattered by a huge splash that sounded like a cannonball plunging into the water ahead. The splash startled April, and Mitch could see her suddenly stiffen in the seat in front of him. He didn’t blame her. The forest and river was an alien environment to her, especially in the dark.

  “Was that an alligator or something? It had to be something huge!” she whispered.

  “Just a beaver,” he whispered back. “They slap the water like that with their tails. It’s amazing that an animal that small can make such a splash, but they do.”

  Another half hour or so after the beaver splash, Mitch figured they were getting close to the mouth of the little tributary. He kept a close watch on the left bank as he paddled, knowing it was small and didn’t look like much from the cree
k. He’d never explored this one as he had many such branches that fed the creek, mainly because it ran through the Wallace place and other private lands rather than national forestlands not far upstream. His dad had also warned him to avoid it specifically because of those people, saying they weren’t likely to change no matter how many times he carried them to jail. When Mitch finally spotted the opening in the bank to his left, he steered the canoe beneath the trees that hung low overhead and let the bow slide up into the soft mix of mud and sand where the waters merged.

  “This is it,” he whispered, in an even lower tone than he’d used while they were floating downstream. Mitch stepped out into the ankle-deep water and walked up onto the bank. The moon was just now filtering through the trees at a low angle, and in its light he could see that the small bar of white sand was unmarked by human footprints.

  “It doesn’t look like anyone’s been down here recently. Let’s wait right here for another hour or so until the moon gets higher. It’s going to be a lot darker up this branch than out on the main creek. We need enough light to see so we don’t go breaking sticks and stuff busting through the woods.”

  While they waited, they sat on the sandbar and discussed what they were about to do in low whispers. If he had not already seen how coolly April handled herself in the face of danger, he would not have wanted to put her in this situation. But he knew he could count on her, and other than his dad, he didn’t know anyone else who could do a better job of it than she could.

  “We’ve got to move really slowly when we go up this creek to make sure we are utterly silent in our approach. I’m not sure how far it is, but at a stalking pace like that, it could take an hour to go a quarter of a mile. We’ll really have to slow down once we know we are in the vicinity of their place.”