Instant Darkness

by Mark J Russell

  But what if he decided to stick it out here in his home?

  What would he have to do?

  He knew he’d have to find food and water, not to mention sterilize water for drinking.

  He’d have to somehow warm the house and find a way to heat water for baths.

  And he’d also have to continue his children’s education…

  He could do these things, couldn’t he?

  But what if Rae Ann or Corey got sick? What would he do then? He’d have to find his way to the shelter to get medical help. Wasn’t Abram’s sister-in-law a nurse? The head honcho at a hospital in Rhode Island, if he remembered correctly. If he journeyed to Abram’s, then she would be a resource. Their own private health practitioner.

  Unless Abram refused to let them in…

  Nick held his head in his hands, not knowing what to do. Or rather, knowing what to do, but not wanting to do it.

  If staying here were not an option, then the choice between Abram and the Red Cross shelter in the company of tens of thousands of people was easy. He would take the kids to Vermont.

  He heard a sound behind him and found Corey standing there.

  “Dad, we really need to—” Corey started, but Nick cut him off.

  “I know,” Nick said.

  Corey’s face betrayed the shock he felt. He had clearly been expecting a fight. “We’re going to Emma’s dad’s place in Vermont?”

  “Against my better judgment,” Nick paused and took a breath, “yes. Abram may not welcome us there, but it’s our best chance of survival with a little dignity.”

  “Emma said he invited us, Dad,” Corey said. “Look at the note.”

  “Either way, we're going.”

  Corey nodded, but remained silent.

  Nick continued, “Find Rae Ann, and the two of you get packed. We’re leaving as soon as possible.”

  5

  “What to bring…” Nick said, standing in the closet that served as the home’s pantry.

  Obviously, anything perishable needed to be eaten now or thrown away. He would pack the contents of his freezer into his cooler, minus the ice cream which wouldn’t last as far as Vermont.

  He started packing anything that wouldn’t go bad, then loaded the boxes in the back of his SUV. He filled all the sports bottles they’d accumulated from soccer camps and other sporting events over the years with water and packed those too. He emptied the fridge and some of the freezer into the garbage can and rolled that to the curb. The meat went into the cooler as planned, along with all the ice and frozen vegetables. He loaded the cooler into the car and rushed upstairs to pack his bag.

  He stuck his head in Rae Ann’s room. “Are you packed, sweetheart?”

  “Yes, Daddy. Will we be back in time for school tomorrow? I don’t want to miss reading time with Miss Stewart. Fluffy the porcupine is going to France.”

  “I don’t think they’ll be having school tomorrow, Rae Ann,” he said. “Open your bag and show me what’s in it.”

  She unzipped her suitcase and flipped back the lid. It held nothing but toys.

  He sighed. “Rae Ann, you need clothes to wear. Take the toys out and put in pants and t-shirts, underwear and socks. Then get your coat and at least two sweaters or hoodies. Then, if you still have any room, you may put toys in.”

  “But, Daddy…”

  “Do it, Rae Ann.”

  She looked mutinous but started pulling the toys from her bag. He left her to it and went to follow suit, packing casual and outdoor work clothes and leaving his nicer attire in the closet. On his way back downstairs, he checked in with Rae Ann again.

  “Did you get your clothes packed?” he asked.

  “Yes, Daddy,” she said, holding Louise the stuffed brown bear tight to her chest.

  “Where is your suitcase?” he asked, looking. It wasn’t anywhere in her room.

  “In the car,” she said. “Corey took it down for me.”

  “Did he check it?” he asked.

  “I think so,” she said, a worry line appearing between her brows.

  “Okay. Let’s go.” He turned to leave, and she followed him, still clutching Louise.

  When they reached the garage, he found Corey had already pulled the car out and had the rear hatch open, rearranging the suitcases and boxes in the back. He grabbed Nick’s case, slotted it into the back, and turned to his dad as he closed the hatch.

  “We’re all set, Dad,” he said.

  “Did you check Rae Ann’s suitcase?” Nick asked.

  “Yep. Full of clothes. And I made sure she brought practical stuff and not just her tutu.” Corey grinned.

  “Okay, everyone, get in. Time to go.”

  Nick closed and locked the garage door, circling the house to check that it was locked up tight, and then got in the car.

  “I guess we’re in for an adventure,” he said and started out of the drive.

  The first problem was the need for fuel. Nick could tell from his gas gauge that they didn’t have enough to reach Vermont, but every gas station he drove past was blocked up with lines of cars. His usual station had a line blocking travel right around the block, so he gave up and got on the I-93 freeway, where there were still more cars.

  It took them twice as long as usual to reach the rest stop before the off-ramp to I-89 that boasted a gas station, restaurant, convenience store, and bathrooms, but there was a line for fuel a quarter mile down the shoulder of the freeway.

  He kept on going, hoping that he would reach exit nine on I-89. That was a decent place to stop, and it wasn’t near a major town. Perhaps the lines there wouldn’t be as long.

  Rae Ann was singing in the back seat, and usually, Nick would put an end to that. But if it kept her happy, he’d let her sing today, and his nerves could just take the beating. It was better than listening to her ask, “Are we there yet?” endlessly. His wife, Rochelle, had loved it and would join in, singing at the top of her lungs, not caring if she got the tune or the words right, but just enjoying the joy of it. He regretted the times he’d asked her to stop. If he’d known she would die so young, he would have put up with all her quirks. Now it just hurt to think of it.

  They crept along I-93 to the I-89 exit, and once they’d taken the clover leaf, the traffic lessened some. It seemed like most people were heading toward the cities, rather than away. Was he doing the right thing, taking his kids to Vermont? Or was he putting them in even more danger with fewer resources? No. He’d decided to follow Abram to Vermont, and that was what he was doing.

  He gripped the steering wheel tighter and tried to push his doubts out of his mind. He needed to be decisive and not waffle around in self-doubt.

  He was confident in his work, and he knew he should’ve been so in all parts of his life. But, instead, he tended to ignore those other pieces of himself and focus most of his energy on the things he did best. He knew he should be more hands-on with his kids, the way Rochelle was, but he didn’t have the confidence. And anyway, they were learning independence. He didn’t do their homework with them or for them, so they had to be self-reliant. That was a good thing. They should be self-sufficient. He just wished he felt better about it. He had the feeling that Rochelle would be disappointed in him.

  They made it to exit nine before they reached the bottom of their gas tank, and Nick was rewarded with the sight of two gas stations with a line of only two or three cars. He pulled in behind what appeared to be the shortest line and killed the engine. He’d hate to run out of gas before they reached the pumps.

  He noticed the signs about limiting the amount of gas each customer could purchase to ten gallons. That worried him a little. He figured he could reach central Vermont on ten gallons, but if they had to drive a long way into the mountains, it could be tight.

  The minutes ticked by as he waited. At the front of the gas station, he spotted the logo of a popular cigarette brand, the latest carton price scrawled out below. If society collapsed, a pack of cigarettes would probably be perfect for
barter. He’d read that somewhere, and figured if that were true for cigarettes, it would be doubly true for canned food, potable water, and ammunition. The gold-bugs he’d talked to had thought hoarding gold was the answer, but you couldn’t eat gold.

  Nick drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, hoping things wouldn’t get so bad that people would need to barter in order to survive. He lowered his window a crack. Music from overhead speakers calmed him, but as he took a deep breath, he gagged from the potent stench of gasoline—someone must’ve spilled some nearby. Coughing, he raised the window, sealing off himself and his family from the outside world.

  After another ten minutes of waiting, Nick turned his key in the ignition, pulled the SUV up to the available pump, and killed the engine again. Outside the car, he dispensed his ten gallons of gas. Before he hurried into the station to pay, he stuck his head in the car.

  “Lock the doors,” he said, and as Corey opened his mouth, he cut him off. “Listen, I know it’s a small town in the middle of nowhere, but just do as I say and lock the doors. Okay?”

  “Okay, Dad,” Corey said, rolling his eyes.

  Nick gave him a look, and Corey placed his hand on the door handle, his finger poised to do the deed.

  “Thanks,” Nick said, and disappeared inside the station.

  Corey watched his dad walk into the gas station and slumped back in his seat. It was taking forever for them to get anywhere, and Emma hadn’t shared her location with him yet. It was a good thing they had the map.

  He tried texting her, but she didn’t respond. Maybe her battery had run out, or maybe her dad had made her leave her cell phone behind. There was no way to know, but it bugged him that they were out of touch.

  A man was walking toward their car from the direction of the station, but Corey hadn’t seen him come out of the building. There was something about him that Corey didn’t like, even though the man was smiling and appeared friendly enough.

  “Lie down, Rae Ann,” Corey said. “And be quiet.”

  For once, Rae Ann did as she was told and curled up on the seat.

  The man tapped on Corey’s window. “Open the door,” he said. “I want to talk to you.”

  Corey shook his head, thankful now that his dad had made him lock the car.

  The man frowned and tried the door. “Come on, kid, open up.”

  Corey’s heart was beating hard, and he was having trouble drawing breath. A panic attack. He’d had them before when he was scared. He tried to slow his breathing and think. What should he do? He reached over and pressed the horn, hard.

  The man jumped back and swore, but he didn’t go away. Instead, he reached behind his back and pulled out a gun.

  Nick was paying for his purchase when a horn blared outside. He jerked his head around to see what was going on—his kids were out there. There was a man with his hand on Corey’s door, tugging at the handle with one hand and holding something in the other. Could it be a gun?

  He rushed from the store, yelling, “Hey, get away from my kids!”

  The gun was gone now—did he imagine it?

  But when the stranger swung around, the gun was back in his hand, and he was aiming it at Nick.

  “I need your car,” he said, his voice low and steady.

  “I have kids,” Nick said. “Please, don’t do this.” He managed to keep the desperation out of his voice.

  “Yeah, so do I, that’s why I need your car,” the man said, flicking his gaze toward Corey. “Tell the boy to open up.”

  “What if I don’t?” Nick asked. “Are you going to kill me in front of my kids?”

  “I’ll shoot you if I have to—a bullet hole in the leg would probably do it.”

  Nick noticed that people were rushing to their cars to get away. Even vehicles in line behind him were pulling out, escaping the danger. No one was going to help. He heard the door to the station lock behind him. He was on his own here.

  “I don’t want any trouble, but I need my car,” Nick said. “The kids and I have got a long way to go.” He opened his palms toward the man.

  “Too bad,” the man said. “The only way I can get to my kids in time is with your car. Be thankful that you have them with you. Now tell your son to open the car, or I’ll start shooting.”

  “Maybe we could give you a ride to where your kids are.”

  “I’ll still need the car…sorry. Now get the boy to open up.” He cocked the gun and aimed it at Nick’s leg. “You’re going to have a tough time getting where you’re going if you can’t walk.”

  Nick saw a hardness in the man’s face that told him he wasn’t kidding. If he had to shoot Nick, he would. He was still trying to figure a way out when Corey got out of the car.

  “You can have the car, man, but let me get my little sister out of the back seat.” Corey opened the door and unbuckled Rae Ann. “Come on, Rae Ann,” he said, “we’re giving the bad man our car.”

  Rae Ann got out, clutching Louise. “My suitcase,” she whimpered and gave the man a frightened glance.

  “You can take your stuff,” the man said. “Just hurry up about it.”

  Corey looked at Nick. “I couldn’t let him shoot you in front of Rae, Dad,” he said, his voice merely a whisper. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay, son. I understand,” Nick said. He squeezed Corey’s shoulder, and they joined Rae Ann at the back of the car. Rae Ann had one suitcase out and was reaching for another. “Just one suitcase, honey,” he said. “You can only take what you can carry.”

  “They are on wheels, Daddy,” she said. “I can pull them.”

  “It’s a long way home, honey. One is going to be more than enough.”

  She threw the suitcase that she had by her side back into the car. “Then I want that one,” she said, pointing to the second suitcase.

  “Hurry up,” the man called, waving his pistol.

  Corey grabbed it and quickly set it on the ground next to her. Then he grabbed the duffle he’d packed his belongings in. Nick grabbed his rolling suitcase, a Bungie, and the bag with the snack foods.

  “Okay, that’s it,” the man said. “Give me the keys.”

  “Wait,” Nick said. “We’ll need water.” He reached in and grabbed another fabric grocery bag. “Okay, now you can have it. The keys are in the ignition.” He slammed the rear hatch and dragged his belongings to the sidewalk that surrounded the minimart. “Come on, kids, get out of the way of the cars.”

  6

  Nick pulled out his cell phone and dialed 911 as his car drove out of the parking lot. He was furious with the loss of his vehicle and shaking with the after-effects of the adrenaline rush.

  “What’s your emergency?” a female voice answered, efficient but also warm, the kind you wanted to hear when you were in the middle of an emergency.

  “My car has been stolen,” Nick said into his phone.

  “What’s your location?”

  “I’m at a service station just off the I-89, exit nine.”

  “What is your name, sir?” She was calm and unruffled.

  “Nick Caulfield.”

  “Can you be reached at this number if the call is dropped?”

  “Yes, this is my cell phone,” he said, furrowing his brow.

  “Are you safe and uninjured?”

  “Yes, we are safe and uninjured,” he said, “but while you are asking me all these questions, the guy who stole my car is getting away.”

  “Sir, I hate to tell you this, but the world has collectively lost its mind. There are so many emergency calls right now—I can’t even tell you how long it’s going to be before an officer can reach you. Was there a weapon involved in the incident?”

  “Yes, he had a gun and threatened to shoot me,” Nick said, keeping an eye on Rae Ann to make sure she wasn’t listening.

  “Can you tell me exactly what happened?” she asked.

  He detailed the carjacking, giving as much detail as he could remember about the thief. Told her he was with two children, and th
at if an officer wouldn’t be showing up for a while, he was going to start walking home.

  “Where do you live, sir?” she asked.

  “The south side of Manchester, New Hampshire,” he said through gritted teeth. He should have never left home.

  “I’d say that is a multi-day walk with children, sir,” she said. “The Warner Police Department is only a quarter mile north of your present location. I’m sure they can take your statement if you go to them.”

  “I’ll think about it,” Nick said. “Meanwhile, I need to get off the phone. I don’t have any way to charge it if the battery dies.”

  He punched the call off with his finger and gestured to Corey to come here.

  “We are going to walk to the police station,” he said, “then I think we should start home.”

  “Dad, we are almost halfway to Vermont. We should keep going.”

  “I don’t want to argue about it right now, Corey. Let’s go report our car stolen and see if there are any car rental agencies around here. If not, I’ll call Mike or someone to come get us. I want you to hold Rae Ann’s hand—it doesn’t look like this road is meant for pedestrians.”

  They started north, walking on the bike path separated from the traffic by a strip of grass. Cars were whizzing by and Rae Ann kept flinching and trying to pull away from Corey.

  “Stop pulling, Rae Ann,” Corey said. “I won’t let a car hit you.”

  “I don’t know how you could stop it, Corey Caulfield,” Rae Ann said. “They are big and fast.”

  “I’d throw you out of the way before they hit us.”

  She sulked and made Corey walk as far away from the traffic as possible, dragging him into the bushes that bordered the path. But it was only a couple of minutes later that they were crossing “N” Road, then the grass patch that separated the parking lot of the police station from the road.