“You’d do the same fer me,” Jimmy said. “Take care of your son. Do right by Tess.”
Sam said nothing. He couldn’t. He just watched as Jimmy hefted the extinguisher back and slammed it through the window. “Go! Now!” He jumped through the shards of glass that remained, oblivious to the jagged points poking his skin. He hit the grass and ran for the garage, yelling like a mad man. Countless black eyes snapped toward him, following his flight, and like cats hunting prey, they gave chase.
Jimmy didn’t see the ash-monster, but he knew it was still out there with him. Despite his primal instincts revolting at the idea, he hoped it would take the bait.
He raised his arms and yelled as best he could. Each breath was more labored than the last, and he suspected one of his lungs had been punctured. He glanced back and was surprised to see a smoldering gang of angry forms bearing down on him. “Holy shit!” he whispered, and he tried to run faster. He was going to die. He knew that now, and he had accepted it faster than he would have believed possible, but he was going out the way he wanted, not as one of those fuckers. No way was he going to let his body be used to kill his friends.
He made it to the garage and slammed the door shut behind him. He leaned against it, holding back the first shadow-walkers to arrive. The garage reeked of rotten eggs. He looked at the propane shut-off valve. The small fracture was now cracked open, hissing fumes into the air.
“Seriously?” Jimmy said. “This is the one thing that’s going to go right today?”
He dropped the fire extinguisher and reached into his shirt pocket, pulling out his cigarettes. He kept his back pressed against the door to keep it shut, bouncing forward from the occasional push. The fumes were making him dizzy, and his aching body felt slow. The wounds on his chest burned like hot iron brands, and in an odd way, he figured he had been branded.
He looked down at his smokes, happy to see a single crumpled stick poking out of the pack. He brought the pack to his lips and plucked it out, tossing the empty packet to the floor. Then, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his lighter.
He twisted it around in his hand and remembered the truth behind the old piece of junk. His father hadn’t really given it to him—that was just a story that he told others when they asked about the old, beat up thing. The truth was his father had thrown it out. Jimmy had fished it from the trash. It had, in a way, taken on the personification of the relationship he’d wanted with his father. It was always with him, and it always worked when he needed it to.
He thought of his father as he flicked the top open with its familiar metallic click. The sound reminded him of his younger days, when his biggest worries were zits and homework. Days when his father had still been his hero and someone he wanted to emulate.
He counted to sixty, and then he staggered to the back of the garage. The door crashed open behind him, but he didn’t care. Over soon, he thought, fighting the urge to close his eyes and sleep. He could feel the darkness within him, slithering around, as it wormed its way through his body.
He turned to face the front of the garage and wasn’t surprised to see the Dana-thing’s blackened face staring back at him. He knew it would be there. Felt it in the darkness. Inside of him. He brought the lighter up to his cigarette and placed his thumb against the flint wheel. He wanted to say something cool. Something like in one of those movies where the hero blows himself up. But nothing came to mind.
“Fuck it.”
Jimmy cupped a hand over his mouth, flicked his thumb, and watched as his trusty lighter sparked a tiny blue flame to life. He had time enough for a single drag.
25
The pounding on the broadcast room’s door slowed, as most of the shadow-walkers left to chase after Jimmy. A few remained in the hall, but just stood still, as if waiting for direction.
Cash kept a shoulder against the door, regardless. “Sam, I’m sorry, but he’s right. We need to get back. Laurie and Wyatt are waiting on us,” he said.
Sam didn’t hear Cash speak. His sole focus was on Jimmy, and on the shadows that chased him. He watched his old friend reach the garage and slip inside. He clenched his eyes shut, cursing whoever was responsible for this shitty situation and silently bid Jimmy farewell and a ‘give ’em hell.’
Then, Sam turned to the others. “Let’s go.”
Cash didn’t wait. He threw open the room’s door, slamming it into a shadow-walker, who toppled to the floor. They stepped over the fallen thing and ran down the hall, past the few other remaining figures, who seemed confused by their sudden appearance.
Cash shouldered another ashen body out of the front doorway, lifting if off the ground and hurling it down the stairs. It made a little umph sound as it struck the pavement headfirst. A swirl of darkness erupted from its head, spewing flakes of ash.
Cash flung open the van door and hopped in the driver’s seat. “Hurry!”
Kyle ran around to the other side of the van. He climbed into the passenger’s seat and slammed the door behind him.
Cash started the van. “Where the hell’s Sam?”
“Here,” Sam said, opening the side door and climbing in. He narrowly avoided being tripped up by a shadow-walker lying beneath the truck. He yanked his legs into the van rapidly. “One of those fuckers almost—”
A dark shadow reached in and grabbed Sam by the arm, nearly pulling him out. Sam braced himself against the door and felt the tendons in his arm stretch as he pulled back. He’d never enjoyed tug-o-war as a kid. Enjoyed it even less when the rope was his arm.
Another set of arms reached in and pulled, dragging Sam halfway out before he lurched to a halt, like a dog reaching the end of its leash. He looked back and saw Kyle had hold of his legs, straining to keep Sam inside the van.
“Dammit! Cash, use the halo!” Kyle shouted.
Cash flipped the halo switch. White light, like God himself had appeared above the van, burst in all directions. The shadows screamed and let go of Sam, sending him crashing back into Kyle. Some of the creatures lashed out at the lights, as pieces of black flesh singed and flaked from their bodies. Others ran away into the dark safety of the woods.
Sam grabbed the van door and slid it shut. “Go! Go! Go!”
Cash jammed the van into drive and floored it, spinning them around and back down the road. He kept the pedal down, trying to get as much distance between them and the station as he could.
Sam saw the monstrous ash-beast slamming into the garage bay door. He couldn’t be sure, but he thought he’d seen it look their way as they sped by in a blur.
Then the garage erupted in a massive ball of fire that enveloped the area. The blast shook the van and nearly shoved them off the road. Cash braked hard and stopped the van. The halo still cast its protective light around them, but it was starting to flicker. The light in the front had fallen off and swung over the passenger-side windshield on a wire. He looked back to Sam as if to say something, but his voice caught in his throat.
Sam saw the look on Cash’s face and turned back just in time to see a burning chunk of debris crash into the back of the van. The van shot forward and off the side of the road. Cash swerved around a thick pine, and braked again without crashing.
“What the hell was that?” Kyle shouted.
Sam watched in horror as the debris rose up and shook its head. Clouds of black flakes shed from its head and body, floating up into the air. Fire—the bright orange variety—shot off the shadow-beast’s back. It thrashed in pain, though Sam wasn’t sure whether that was from the heat or the light cast by the fire. Maybe both. Sam turned to Cash, who had blood running down his forehead. “Can you drive?”
“Just a little dizzy,” Cash said, rubbing his head.
“Here it comes!” Kyle shouted.
Sam scrambled into the space between the driver’s and passenger’s seats and took hold of the wheel, reached over with his left foot and jammed down the gas. As they spun out around the pine tree, Cash snapped back to himself and took the wheel, crush
ing his foot down on top of Sam’s. They swerved back onto the road as the monster struck the tree, splitting it with a loud crack. They tore away, pursued by the sound of a falling tree, the beast’s roar and then the beat of its heavy paws on the pavement.
Laurie grabbed Wyatt and ran to the kitchen. Pots and pans clanged to the floor as they stumbled through the darkness, stopping at the freezer door. She wanted to tell the others to follow, but it was too dark to see and—oh my god—they were already screaming. But it wasn’t just the high-pitched wails that had Laurie terrified, it was the sound of tearing flesh that accompanied the voices.
She paused at the door for a moment, reaching out in the darkness for where she knew the cooking aprons hung. They weren’t much and they smelled to high Heaven of grease, but they would have to do. It was about to get cold.
She fumbled with the freezer door handle, trying to get it open. The sounds of carnage from the dining area made it difficult for her to focus. She heard a familiar clank as the door’s latch opened. Frigid air washed over them.
She pushed Wyatt inside, just as she heard something shriek not far behind her. It thrashed about, stumbling over chairs and tables as it struggled to get at them. She rushed inside the freezer and pulled hard on its heavy door.
She felt relief as the door swung shut with a solid thunk. The thing outside the door screeched and pounded, but it never tried the door handle. Although the darkness took control of the people it encountered, it didn’t seem to learn from them. They were simply vessels for the dark.
“I think we’re safe,” Laurie said.
“For now,” Wyatt replied.
“Yeah, kid. For now.”
But probably not for long, she thought.
Sam’s heart sank as they skidded into the diner and he saw the place was dark with shadow-walkers thrashing about inside. Cash drove in a loop around the diner. “We’re going in.”
Sam nodded and strapped himself in.
“Wait, what?” Kyle asked. “That place is crawling!”
Sam shot Kyle a disapproving look that said, my son is in there.
“Right. Let’s do it.” Kyle muttered.
Cash drove around to the front and stopped on the street, facing the diner. He put the van in park and stared straight ahead. Sam couldn’t read Cash’s mind, but he was pretty sure you didn’t need to be a psychic to know what was going on in there. Laurie was in there with Wyatt, and if they were still alive—and he prayed to God they were—they needed help.
Sam saw the flaming beast charge down the ridge toward them, leaving a burning trail of branches and leaves in its wake. Cash throttled the engine twice.
Sam looked to Kyle. “Hang on.”
Kyle braced himself against the passenger seat. “Go!”
The pounding on the freezer door stopped. Laurie let go of the handle, which she’d been clutching tightly, just in case, and ran back to Wyatt. She wrapped her arms around his shivering body. She quickly covered him with the aprons and rubbed his arms and legs. “How’re you doing?”
Wyatt shivered under the aprons. “It’s cold.”
Laurie pulled him closer. “Snuggle with me for heat.”
“These stink.”
Laurie wrinkled her nose in agreement at the aprons and smiled, despite her looming death and the freezing temperature. She had once worked for a call center where the motto was: Always smile, because even though a customer won’t see it, they will feel it. She hoped it was true in this case.
“Do you think my Dad is okay?”
She rubbed Wyatt’s arms some more and said, “I’m sure he’s doing everything he can to get back to you. Cash, too. I imagine they’re raising hell.” She cringed at her choice of words, but she hoped she was right.
Cash fastened his seatbelt, shifted the van into drive and pushed the gas to the floor. The van’s tires spun on the pavement, churning out rank, black smoke, but then they caught. The van shot forward, leaving a cloud of burnt rubber in its wake.
Cash held the van steady and straight. He lost the passenger side mirror to a canopy post as they gunned between the two sets of fueling stations. He steered toward the broken window. “Here we go!”
The van rammed through the front of the diner with a loud crash. The two halo lights on the left sheared off in a spray of sparks and smoke as they struck the edge of the window frame. The vehicle came to a spinning halt as Cash jerked the wheel left and slammed the brakes. The three remaining halo lights sputtered and then blinked out as the van stalled.
Sam grabbed the makeshift triple flashlight. He ripped off the duct tape and broke the lanterns apart, tossing the two remaining lights to Kyle.
“Why do I get two?” Kyle said, looking worried.
“We need a distraction.”
Kyle shook his head. “Shit.
“See if you can get them to follow you outside.”
“Right. Outside. Where the giant, burning ash-monster is. Perfect.” Kyle was incredulous, but he put his hand on the sliding door handle.
Cash reached out a hand to stop him.
“Get your ass up to the roof. There’s a ladder ’round back that’ll take you up. You can wait for us there.”
“If I don’t die,” Kyle said, “I’m asking your sister out.”
Cash grinned and slid the van door open. Kyle leapt out, shining the two lights around the ruined diner. The twin beams were met with angry shrieks, followed by an, “Oh fuck,” from Kyle and the sound of running feet. The darkness came alive and surged after him, heading out through the hole made by the van’s entrance.
26
Kyle rounded the diner, hauling ass. He didn’t look back, but he could hear the cacophony of bodies now chasing him, slowly gaining. He was a runner, but focused more on endurance than speed. While he wouldn’t get winded anytime soon, he also wouldn’t be outrunning any of the specters behind him, and he doubted they worried about fatigue.
He considered Cash’s suggestion of heading to the roof, but dismissed it when he spotted his motorcycle in the parking lot. He’d parked it there the previous day, before all the madness had started, and until now, he’d forgotten about it. The ride was noisy and quick, both of which he needed if he was going to keep the shadow-walkers distracted without also being killed. If that fireball on legs is out there, the bike is my best bet at outrunning it, he thought.
He dug into his right pocket, pulling out his keys. With the keys in his right hand and both flashlights in his left, he spun around, saddled the bike and shouted in surprise. Five of the charred things were nearly on top of him. He lifted the lights and the things flinched back , screaming. But they weren’t backing down. Instead, they were moving apart. He couldn’t stop all of them if they approached from multiple angles.
He inserted the key in the ignition, and the Ducati’s headlight sprang to life. The brighter light, with its wider spread, set the creatures into a panic, tearing at their flaking dry flesh and staggering back.
Kyle revved the engine several times, its high whine getting the attention of even more of the creatures. The last of them had hurried out of the diner, while still more emerged from the surrounding woods. He dropped the flashlights, shifted the bike into gear and roared through the parking lot, struggling to keep the bike steady in the sloppy ash on the ground.
With the light turned away from them, the horde of shadow-walkers recovered quickly and gave chase. He moved just fast enough to stay out of reach, and he could maintain the cat-and-mouse game indefinitely, as long as the giant ash-creature didn’t join the chase. He searched for it, but the massive beast was nowhere in sight, which was almost worse than being chased by it. If the fire had gone out, it could be just off the side of the lightless road, and he’d never know.
Sam kept low and watched through the front window as the shadow-walkers left the diner, pursuing Kyle outside. Satisfied they were alone in the diner, he slid the van door open and slipped out. He flinched when his feet crunched over shattered dishes, but
no attack came.
“Your show, Cash,” Sam said. “Lead the way.”
Cash turned on his flashlight and swept it back and forth, illuminating a macabre scene of carnage. “Oh my God.”
The bodies were torn apart. Ravaged. There was no chance this lot would be coming back to life as shadow-walkers, but Sam needed to know whether Laurie and Wyatt were among the dead. Without a word, they tip-toed through the gore, searching for familiar clothing or faces.
Sam felt close to losing his mind, and he knew, without a doubt, he’d simply snap if he came across Wyatt’s body. But they reached the far side without seeing any sign of the two.
Cash snapped his fingers to get Sam’s attention. He motioned to the kitchen with his head. They entered the back room slowly. The flashlight’s beam reflected back at them off the stainless-steel appliances. Sam squinted against the light, but he was also glad for it. The brighter, the better.
Unlike the dining room, the kitchen was devoid of bodies and blood. So where are they?
A thunk made them both stop. Cash aimed his light at the side of the kitchen, where the entrance to the storage room stood open.
“Stockroom’s back there,” Cash said. “So is the freezer.”
Sam picked up a butcher’s knife and motioned to the flashlight in Cash’s hand. “Aim for the head.”
Cash nodded and continued across the kitchen, stopping at the entrance to the stockroom. He shined his light in, gasped and fell back.
Kyle steered the bike in long circles around the diner, a string of shadow-walkers lumbering after him. With every lap, they grew more agitated, their shrieking drowning out the roar of the motorcycle’s engine.
As he swung around the back again and came up alongside the building, he saw the ash-monster and nearly fell off the bike. But it wasn’t after him. It was pushing its way into the diner through the hole carved out by the van.
Refuge Book 2 - Darkness Falls Page 10