Refuge Book 2 - Darkness Falls

by Jeremy Bishop

  “Front hall with the new guy.”

  “We gotta go,” Sam said. “I need to get back to Wyatt.”

  “What about calling for help?” Cash asked, incredulous.

  Sam took one step toward the door and was nearly knocked off his feet by what felt like an earthquake, but he recognized it as an impact. Something large had struck the building, which pretty much left one suspect. “That big asshole is back.” The lights flickered and then went black.

  21

  Jimmy fled outside as the radio station bucked and creaked. He stumbled and caught himself against Cash’s van. He flicked his now bent cigarette away. “The hell is this now?”

  “Shut up,” Kyle hissed. “You hear that?”

  Jimmy held his breath and listened. At first he heard nothing, but then a sound akin to a galloping horse steadily arose. It sounded familiar. His eyes widened with recognition.

  It’s back.

  Jimmy grabbed Kyle by the arm and pushed him toward the station. “Get back inside. Now!”

  “What is it?”

  “Just get inside! Go!” Jimmy shouted, as the source of the sound came running up the road.

  Kyle’s look of confusion snapped to horrid understanding, as he saw the giant beast closing in.

  He leapt up the stairs, nearly falling at the top. Jimmy was right behind him, but so was the dark-shrouded monster. We’re not going to make it, Jimmy thought. As soon as he saw Kyle reach the door to the station, he made a sharp turn to the right and jumped off the side of the staircase.

  The beast’s thick, wolf-like head slammed into the doorway. Wood splintered, as it snapped at Kyle’s feet. The creature’s wide body was too large to fit through the narrow entrance, but that didn’t stop it from trying. Kyle backpedaled furiously into the hall, but he only managed to bunch the floor mat under his feet.

  The beast lunged forward again, missing Kyle’s left foot by inches, as Cash and Sam pulled him out of its reach. The monster snarled at them, its massive head smelling of death and decay. Ash fell from its open mouth, like drool. Its lips curled back, and it snorted at them, coughing out more ash. Then it was off, chasing after the one person who wasn’t inside.

  Jimmy slammed into the tool shed, hoping it was open, but the door held fast, knocking the wind out of him. He turned, his back against the door, his lungs burning for air. I shoulda quit smoking.

  He watched as the beast rounded the corner and sniffed the air. Its boxy hyena head turned and looked directly at him. Its black eyes seemed lifeless, and yet, hungry. It lowered its head and slowly stalked toward him, ashen muscles twitching, casting off small geysers of smoke. Black claws extended from its wide paws, digging into the ground with each tense step.

  Jimmy stood rooted to the spot, his broad shoulders heaving as he took deep breaths. He absentmindedly reached into his pocket and touched the familiar lighter. It was one of the few things of his father’s he still had, and ironically, part of the habit that had contributed to his death. See you soon, Dad.

  The beast charged, closing the distance before Jimmy could react. It placed a single large paw on his chest and shoved him to the ground. It lowered its ashen snout to his face, showering him in a cascade of dry flakes.

  Jimmy struggled to breathe from both the beast’s weight and the stench. He reached up with both hands and grabbed at its neck, his fingers sinking into a gray-black mess of crispy flesh.

  The beast leaned forward, putting weight onto the leg that had pinned its prey. It flexed its paw and sank four sharp claws into Jimmy’s chest.

  Jimmy let go of the beast’s neck and wheezed, coughing up a mix of blood and vomit. His vision faded, like he was watching the end of a movie. His own personal ‘fin.’ He raised a bloody hand and slowly extended his middle finger.

  “I hope you choke on me, mother—”

  The beast leapt back, startled and in pain. Jimmy cried out as the monster’s talons slipped out of his flesh, and again as two sets of shadowed hands grabbed hold of his shoulders and pulled him away. Too tired to fight back, he simply accepted his fate.

  “Geez you’re heavy, Jimmy,” a familiar voice said.

  Jimmy lifted his head and saw that it was Cash and Kyle dragging him away. He looked back at the beast, now busy snapping at the source of its pain.

  Sam held up the three lantern flashlights, now strapped together, combining their light. Using the brilliant light to hold the strange shadow-beast at bay, Sam backed away slowly, following Cash, Kyle and Jimmy past the ruined threshold of the radio station. Jimmy felt a moment of relief as Sam entered and the monster didn’t follow, but it was short lived. His vision spun and then faded. The encroaching darkness terrified him, but there was nothing he could do about it, as unconsciousness claimed him.

  22

  Frost drove slowly, steering the cruiser through the thick layer of ash that covered the road leading out of town, to the north. She hadn’t been down this way since the first shift occurred, but other than the copious amount of ash painting the scenery in grayscale, the land seemed unchanged.

  “How much further?” Griffin asked. He’d been pretty quiet since leaving the house. Frost didn’t think much of it. He was probably worried about Ava. But she was glad to hear his voice again. Strange how a day before, Griffin was just a good friend with the distant prospect of being something more. Someday. Now, she couldn’t imagine Refuge, or her life, without him in it. Not that things had moved any further. How could they? But she knew, without a doubt, that she desired a future with him.

  She knew Julie Barnes felt similarly, and though that woman could flaunt her wares like no one else in Refuge, Frost believed Griffin could see past the curves and follow his heart before his loins.

  Not that Frost wasn’t good looking. She just hid her looks while on the job, so the fellas in town would take her seriously.

  “About a quarter mile ahead,” she said. “On the right.”

  Griffin leaned forward, looking through the windshield, which was smeared with streaks of drizzle-soaked ash. “We should have Jimmy replace these wipers when we get back. Are the high beams on?”

  “Yeah,” Frost said. “But it’s like the light is just being absorbed. Getting worse the further we go.”

  She nearly missed the turn-off because the normally light brown dirt road was covered in ash. She hit the brakes, slid a few feet and then turned into the overgrown road, which was not so much a road as an old path, probably carved into the woods by loggers.

  “I think I see something ahead,” Griffin said.

  She could see it, too. While most of the world beyond fifteen feet was hidden in muted gray, there was a blue light up ahead, shining like an electric beacon.

  As they got closer, Griffin whistled. “Was it doing this last time you saw it?”

  The fifteen foot tall silver obelisk, surrounded by an eight foot fence topped with razor wire, glowed light blue, pulsing occasionally. The air around the object was free of falling ash, as was a thirty-foot circle of earth around it. With each pulse, the ash falling above it would billow out and away as though a gust of air had repelled it.

  “I wouldn’t have forgotten about it, if it had been,” she said, slowing to a stop, fifty feet away. When she turned off the car, they could hear a gentle buzzing that crackled with each pulse of light. The thing was positively brewing with energy.

  They exited the car, still within the falling ash. It clung to their shoulders and hair. Approaching the fenced-in obelisk, they stepped into its glow, past the clean cut border where the ash was kept at bay, and they felt a breeze. The ash covering them was swept away.

  Frost’s skin tingled as they inched closer together. Ten feet from the strange object, she stopped. “I think this is close enough.”

  Without a word, Griffin made a slow circle around the obelisk. “Each side is identical.” He stopped next to Frost. “Except...” He crouched down and picked up a grapefruit sized rock split in half. He dropped it and turned aroun
d, pointing to a fallen tree, now cleaved in two, and then beyond, to the forest, which had a five foot wide path carved straight through to the south.

  Griffin stepped into the center of the path, reached out and took Frost’s arm, pulling her next to him. For a moment, she was distracted by being pressed up against him. Even put an arm around his back, grasping his shoulder, but then she saw what he was looking at.

  The path disappeared into the rolling hills covered with trees, but there were two very noticeable details. The first was that she had an ash free view. Whatever force was repulsing the ash from the obelisk, was also traveling in a straight line, away from it. The second detail was that if she followed the straight line up, a single building came into view.

  The church.

  Or more accurately, the church’s steeple.

  She glanced at Griffin, her arm still around his back, their faces close. She was about to speak, but Griffin’s hand, on the small of her back—When did that happen?—tightened.

  “Don’t move,” he whispered.

  She remained rigid, panning her eyes back and forth, but unable to see what had tensed him. But she could hear it, a shuffling sound just behind the obelisk’s buzzing. A clunk as something struck the squad car.

  “Slowly,” Griffin said, loosening his grip.

  She turned around an inch at a time, fighting hard against the urge to spin quickly. But Griffin had yet to go for his gun, so they were not yet in mortal danger. But when she saw it, she nearly drew her weapon and opened fire.

  It stood outside the light cast by the obelisk, as though held at bay by it, repulsed like the falling ash. The twenty-foot-tall, ash-coated creature swayed back and forth, eyeing them with its four obsidian eyes. Its forelimbs were long and slender. She couldn’t see a joint below its shoulder. The arms were like long, curved, black leather-coated blades. Its body was long and slender, ending at a pair of short hind legs. The body shape reminded her of one of those vintage bicycles, with the large front wheel and small rear wheel—a penny-farthing. Except deadly. And evil.

  “It doesn’t like the light,” Griffin remarked.

  Frost drew her gun. “I’m not sure I want to bet my life on this thing staying lit until the next shift, whenever that will be.” She opened fire, quickly emptying the magazine at the creature’s small, insect-like head. It twitched back as each round found its mark, ash and smoke billowing from the creature’s face and torso.

  As Frost ejected the magazine and slapped in a fresh one, the monster shook off the assault and lunged into the light. One long stride brought it ten feet closer, but it shrieked when the obelisk crackled brightly. It stumbled back out of the light, stalking around the luminous circle. Frost followed it with her gun, but didn’t fire.

  Griffin on the other hand, walked closer to the thing.

  “What are you doing?” Frost asked.

  “Head toward the car, slowly,” he said, moving toward the far side of the circle. The thing tracked him and then hurried around the light, toward the far side, where it appeared Griffin was going to exit. The creature bounced excitedly on its long front legs, punching craters into the ground.

  Frost moved slowly, eyes on the creature, but it didn’t seem aware of her now. She quickened her pace and reached the far side of the protective light. The car was just a quick sprint away. She nearly shouted out, but thought better of it. Instead, she toggled the radio on her hip, pushing the button three times. She heard the three clicks of static from Griffin’s hip.

  He held out a hand.

  Three fingers extended.

  Then two.

  And one.

  They acted as one; the plan worked out silently between them. Frost broke for the car, keys in hand, while Griffin sprinted straight back through the light. With a roar, the creature dove after Griffin, but threw itself into the light. With a wailing howl it reeled back, stumbling over its long limbs. It fell back, out of the light, just as the car roared to life. Griffin arrived a moment later, breathing hard. “Go, go, go!”

  Frost tore down the dirt drive backwards and quickly reached the road. Neither spoke as they raced back to town. As they crossed onto Main Street, Frost said, “The radio station wasn’t much further from the town’s border than that obelisk. I hope Sam and the others found someplace bright to hide out.”

  23

  Laurie brought a fresh round of coffee to the few patrons who had ended up stranded at the diner. No amount of pie could salve the fear they all felt, but the coffee at least kept them alert. Though some had talked about leaving, Laurie had remained adamant about them staying put. Traveling without Cash’s halo seemed to be about the same as suicide. For most, the issue was closed when one foolish young man had finally had enough and left. His screams while hauled off into the darkness were enough to root the others in place.

  She took a seat across from Wyatt and let out a tired sigh. She was worried about Cash. Older brother or not, she felt responsible for him. She knew that things had been tough for him lately, especially since that Julie Barnes lady had brought in outside contractors for all the new projects around town. She worried about the stress he now carried, and though he’d never let her see it, she knew he was angry and frustrated with his life of late.

  She watched Wyatt draw quietly with crayons on the back of a paper placemat. He’d drawn a truck with a man standing outside and a kid looking out a window from within. The man appeared to be swinging something at another person. Wyatt was coloring the person black.

  “Whatcha drawing?” Laurie asked.

  Wyatt continued to draw without looking up. “Uncle Dana,” he said quietly.

  Laurie’s heart sank. “He was a brave man,” was all she could think to say.

  “This is the man that hurt him,” Wyatt said, drawing little black flames coming from the man’s body.

  “What is that? Is he on fire?”

  “No,” Wyatt said, still focused on his drawing. “It’s the black stuff that was on the bad man. Looked more like smoke, really,” Wyatt paused. “Like he was on fire, but someone put him out.”

  Laurie studied the picture. She flinched when it looked as though the dark man moved. But it was just the paper, shifting in the breeze.

  She caught movement out of the corner of her eye. Then she looked to the broken window, where a curtain swayed. She was just about to dismiss it when the power flickered in the diner. She slowly tightened her fists, turning her eyes to the lights above. They grew brighter, and then all at once, they went out completely.

  She nearly screamed, as something tugged on her sleeve.

  “Laurie,” Wyatt said, pulling her down. She leaned over to him and felt his warm breath on her ear, as he whispered, “I think we should hide now.”

  24

  “Wake up!” Sam said, slapping Jimmy across the cheek. “Wake up, dammit!”

  Sam knelt next to Jimmy, who lay on the floor in the broadcast room. He looked at the four puncture wounds that lined Jimmy’s chest. Each one was about the size of a fifty-cent piece. The two wounds on the left side of his chest were leaking blood, though not as much as one might expect. But the two on the right...the only thing coming out of them was black smoke.

  Sam raised a hand to slap Jimmy again, but this time Jimmy caught it.

  “I’m awake,” Jimmy said. “And that fuckin’ hurts.”

  “Thank God,” Sam said, relieved. He looked over his shoulder to Kyle and Cash, who were both standing guard at the broadcast room’s door. “He’s awake,” Sam called out.

  “None too soon,” Cash said. “They’re coming out of the woodwork. We need to get to the van.”

  In the past minute, an army of shadow-walkers had slipped out of the woods and surrounded the station. They didn’t do anything. They just stood, smoldering and waiting. The ash-monster on the other hand, ran around the station breaking windows, tearing up walls and doing its best to reach them. Although the beast couldn’t get in, Sam knew that it was only a matter of time befo
re the shadow-walkers strolled right on in through the broken front door. That they hadn’t already probably had something to do with the big-ass flashlight they’d used to ward off the shadow-hound.

  “We need to get you up and moving,” Sam said.

  Kyle ran over to give Sam a hand. Together they each grabbed an arm and lifted Jimmy into a standing position.

  Jimmy pushed them away and leaned over. He puked.

  “Guys, I hate to say it,” Jimmy said, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. “But I’m not going anywhere. I’m fucked.”

  Cash looked back from the door worried. “They’re in the hall.”

  Sam took a tight grip of Jimmy’s arm. “I already lost one friend, I’m not losing another.”

  Jimmy yanked his arm away. “Nothing you can do about it, besides accept it. You saw what happened to Dana, same as I. And you got your boy to worry about.” Jimmy winced and looked down. Warily, he opened his shirt. Black veins covered his chest. His once red blood now ran black. “I can feel it inside me. It wants me to hurt you. Kill you. Eventually, it’s gonna win.”

  Jimmy reached into his pocket and pulled out the keys to his Phantom. He took Sam’s hand and put them in it. “She’s yours now.”

  Sam looked at Jimmy, his eyes filled with sadness. “I—I can’t just leave you. I won’t—”

  Cash looked back to the three of them, his shoulder pressed firmly against the door. “Guys, whatever we’re going to do, we need to do it now. They’re almost on us.” He looked back to the door, through its window, and right into the eyes of a dark, flaking face. He screamed. The dark figure shrieked in return.

  Sam turned back to Jimmy, but he was no longer there. He’d taken a fire extinguisher from the wall and was getting ready to break open the window.

  “Jimmy, no!” Sam cried out.

  “When I go…” Jimmy said, looking at Sam. “It’ll be fast. High-tail it back to the van.”

  “Jimmy—”