Instant Darkness

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Instant Darkness Page 15

by Mark J Russell


  “You’re a bright one,” Gary said, pulling a small tool from his pack.

  “What are you doing?”

  “What’s necessary. Stand back.”

  After making short work of it, Gary gave a grunt of satisfaction, and the door swung open.

  “Come on,” Gary said, his voice a mere whisper. He handed Nick a backpack as he stepped through the door. “Take food. Stuff that won’t go bad.”

  “Couldn’t we have bartered for what we needed instead of stealing?”

  “There’s no guarantee that they would have bartered with us. We’ll take what we need. Same as those people that looted us. Now get going.”

  Nick took the backpack hesitantly, nodding somberly. Though he wanted to leave upon learning of Gary’s real plan, something inside him urged him to advance further into the small store.

  Nick’s chest tightened, and his forehead gathered sweat as he wandered down an aisle that had vegetables in open coolers on one side and canned goods on the other. There was a ten-pound sack of potatoes still sitting in the produce section. He remembered the taste of mashed potatoes and picked up the bag, then he started tossing baking goods, flour, baking soda, salt, cornmeal, whatever he could see into the bag that Gary had given him. The whole time, one side of his brain was telling him how wrong, immoral, and stupid this was, while the other screamed that if he didn’t do as he was told, he’d end up on the street with his children.

  There were tins of evaporated and condensed milk on the bottom shelf, and he bent down to shove the cans in his bag. He had the idea that milk was important. They didn’t have a cow for milking yet; they would need milk. Then there were boxes of milk. Not dried—he’d seen his mother buy dried milk—but these were full of liquid. He began to reach for them when he considered the weight. No. He’d grab the dried milk, and they could reconstitute it. It was lighter, and they’d get more in the long run, even if it maybe wouldn’t taste as good.

  At the end of the short aisle—it really wasn’t much larger than a gas station store—there was an endcap with pre-baked cupcakes and pies. He thought of Rae Ann, who loved junk food, and picked up three, one for each of the kids. Emma would like those too.

  “Hey!” It was a shout from the back of the store. No wonder there was still stock on the shelves—the owner was guarding it.

  Nick backed down the aisle, looking for a place to hide. With the backpack in one hand and the bag of potatoes in the other, he didn’t even consider pulling his gun from its holster. He slid into a space between a cooler full of rotting food and the wall. Maybe they wouldn’t see him there, and he could sneak out when they went back to bed. He made himself as small as possible, resting the potatoes and backpack on his feet so he could pull the pistol from its holster. But he couldn’t cock it. If he pulled back the slide, they would find him, and he’d never get out of here alive.

  He could hear at least two people moving through the store, getting closer and closer to where Nick was hiding. His heart pounded in his ears, and his breathing sounded so loud that it seemed everyone in the store must hear it. He held the gun pointed at the ground, his hands shaking so badly that he couldn’t have aimed if he’d wanted to, and wondered if he would get out of this alive.

  Corey, I’m sorry, he thought, I should have listened to you.

  The little bit of food he’d managed to pick up was not worth his life. Who would take care of his kids? Would Abram kick them out? No. Maggie wouldn’t let that happen. She had a clear head and would make sure they were okay.

  “Nick, where are you?” Gary’s voice hissed in the darkness. “Get up here and back me up.”

  Nick stood frozen. Gary had betrayed him. Now the owner of the shop knew there were two of them and he wouldn’t be able to hide until they went away. Anger flared, making red dots dance in front of his eyes in the dark. This reckless lunatic was going to get him killed.

  “Nick, get out here now.” Gary’s voice held a level of command he didn’t dare disobey.

  He couldn’t afford to be on Gary’s bad side, so he left the backpack and the bag of potatoes and stepped out of his hiding place, slipping up the aisle between honey and chocolate chips, unseen in the darkness, until he came to the front of the shop, where Gary stood with his back against an endcap.

  Gary gave a nod when he saw Nick in the faint light coming through the door. “Cover me,” he said and held his weapon at the ready. Before Nick could protest, there was a movement at the other side of the store and two flashlight beams caught them full on.

  21

  Nick froze, his gun pointing uselessly at the ground. Even if he wanted to fire, he wouldn’t have time to cock it before the strangers were upon him. Maybe that was better. If he wasn’t killed, they could see that he wasn’t prepared to fire, and they might spare him.

  “Get out.” One of the flashlights swung toward the door, illuminating the exit. “Get out, now!”

  Nick made a move toward the door, but Gary raised his firearm in one smooth motion and shot the guy who had ordered them out. Nick, shocked, ducked back into the aisle behind him and pulled the slide back, cocking his gun. He’d be lucky to make it out alive now.

  The uninjured gunman returned fire, sending Gary back down an aisle one over from where Nick was now crouched.

  “Why aren’t you firing?” Gary growled at him. “You are supposed to have my back.”

  “You were in the way. I didn’t want to hit you.”

  “I’m not in your way now,” Gary hissed. “Get out there and shoot ’em.”

  Nick slinked his gun hand around the corner and shot without aiming, and the bullet hit something made of glass and shattered it. Thank goodness it hadn’t impacted a human being. A projectile hit the shelf near him, and he scooted back down the aisle.

  The gunman was talking to her partner, and Nick was surprised to realize it was a woman. He’d just shot at a woman. He knew it shouldn’t matter—he really wasn’t that keen on killing anyone—but somehow this made it even worse. He glanced out to see the woman trying to pull her partner toward the back of the store, and then Gary stepped out and fired on her again, causing her to let go and run out the door in the rear of the store.

  Nick ran to the man on the floor, feeling for a pulse, but he couldn’t find one. The pool of blood the man was lying in made his stomach churn, and he backed away. He was heading for the door when he remembered his loot in the corner next to the cooler. He should go back for it, or this would have all been for nothing. The thought bothered him. Nothing could make up for this…what did it matter if they got a day’s worth of food? A man had paid for it with his life. He gagged and moved toward the door.

  “Finish filling your bag and let’s go,” Gary said. “It’ll be full light soon.”

  Nick crept to the back of the store and picked up his backpack and bag of potatoes. Holding both in his left hand, he picked random items from the shelves as he walked to the front of the store, not even bothering to look at what he’d stolen. He just wanted out of here and to never come back. His stomach roiled at the thought of having been involved in the death of a man, and despair washed over him.

  “Hurry up,” Gary snapped. “We don’t want anyone to see us here.” He jogged away from Nick, who hefted the backpack onto his shoulders and ran to catch up.

  As they passed the muddy alley that backed up onto the row of shops, Nick spotted a car parked in the shadow of the building. It was familiar, and it crossed his mind that it could be Joshua’s. But Gary had begun to run, and Nick turned his attention to keeping up with the other man.

  They slowed down once they were off the main road, walking in the concealing shadow of the tall trees. Nick’s heart began to beat at a more normal rate, and his fear transformed to anger.

  “Why did you shoot that man back at the store?” Nick asked. “We could have bargained with him.”

  “I don’t bargain. We needed supplies. So, we took what we needed.”

  “How can two backpacks
full of food justify taking a life? That’s ridiculous.”

  “I didn’t kill him for the food. I killed him for the reputation. They’ll know we’re ruthless, and they won’t dare mess with us. That’s worth the life of one man.”

  “How can you say that? They don’t know who we are, so how can they attribute us with a reputation? I think you killed him because you could. Because you wanted to.” A thought flashed through his mind: Perhaps Gary had been waiting his entire life for the opportunity to kill with impunity. The lights going out had provided that opportunity…Nick’s stomach churned once again.

  “What if I did?” Gary asked. “It suited my purposes.”

  “You killed an able-bodied man,” Nick snarled. “Somebody’s son, maybe somebody’s husband or father. You may have left a family without protection, and without someone to keep them fed.”

  “Fewer people putting a strain on the resources is a good thing. You don’t think the old and infirm are going to live through the coming winter, do you? Because they will not. Some will go hungry, and others will die of the cold. It won’t matter if they lost a father or a son come winter. The weak will die.”

  “And are you going to help them along?” Nick’s rage was just below the surface now. “Sit on the hill like a sniper and take out whoever you deem weak?”

  “I don’t need to waste my ammunition on the ones who are going to die anyway. I’m saving my bullets for my true rivals.”

  “And the man you killed in the shop? Was he a true rival?” Nick asked. He wondered if Gary could hear himself talking like a madman.

  “No. I don’t think so. He was in my way. But he’ll make a decent messenger.” Gary hiked his backpack higher onto his shoulders.

  “And the message?” Nick asked, kicking a rock out of the way.

  “Stay out of my way or die.”

  “In other words, you’ve just declared war on the village, and not just for yourself, but for everyone in Abram’s compound. Thanks for that.” Nick bit back the vulgarities that were on the tip of his tongue. He didn’t want to antagonize Gary for fear he’d turn around and shoot him.

  “Don’t worry. It’s a war we’ll win. We are more prepared for this emergency than ninety-nine percent of Americans. They can’t win a war they aren’t prepared for.” Gary spat into the undergrowth.

  “And what if we need people to help us? What happens then?”

  “What could we possibly need, Nick? Maggie is a trained nurse. She can handle anything medical. We’ve got three and a half strong men for everything else.”

  “And if one of us needs surgery? Or to learn a new skill? Who would we ask to help with that?”

  “Abram and I have been preparing for this for years.” Gary drew out the word “years.” “Between us, we can do just about anything. Plumbing, welding, harvesting, birthing cattle—you name it. We aren’t going to need anyone else.”

  “Until we do, and then we’ll have no one to ask because you will have killed them all.” Nick kicked another rock.

  Gary stopped and turned to face Nick. “Let me tell you something,” he said. “Your adrenaline is pumping through your body, messing with your emotions. So, I’ll cut you some slack this time. But the next time we go out on a raid, you’d better be ready.”

  Nick bit back a retort. He didn’t plan on there being a next time. There was no need to make enemies of their neighbors. And he wasn’t going to shoot anyone over a few cans of food. He didn’t care what Gary said. He would not be turned into a killer.

  Gary narrowed his eyes and stared straight into Nick’s face. “And you are not to say a word about this raid to Abram, do you understand? I’ll tell him when the time’s right, but you will keep your mouth shut.” He had his pistol in his hand and was caressing the trigger guard.

  “Of course,” Nick said. “It’s not like I’m proud of what we accomplished today. What are we going to do with the supplies we picked up?”

  “For now, we’ll store them in the upper barn. Then, later, I’ll tell Abram we were able to pick up some extra supplies. He’ll be pleased.”

  Nick thought that was stretching it. If he were the leader of the farm, a meal’s worth of canned food wouldn’t really register as worth the time. And that was not knowing a man had been killed for it.

  Joshua sat bolt upright from a dead sleep. Had that been gunshots? Another shot rang out, and he thought it must have come from the grocery store. It was still mostly dark out, which made him think someone had been robbing the store. He tried to calm his breathing, but it was hard. He was scared all the time now. He hadn’t made it to his family in Canada, and didn’t dare try to even reach the border—in all likelihood, he’d run out of gas before he made it there.

  He was stuck in this town, hoping beyond hope that Nick would be able to convince the man who owned the farm to allow him to stay there. If Nick could use his influence on the man, then Joshua could join the farm and be safe. Otherwise, he was afraid he’d either starve or freeze to death in his car once winter set in.

  There was a movement at the end of the alley where he was parked. Two men running with backpacks. He’d been right—they were looting the store. One of the men shot a glance down the alley, and Joshua recognized his face. It was Nick. Nick with his two lovely children, who he claimed he needed to protect. And who, apparently, wasn’t as law-abiding as he made himself out to be. Joshua had assumed the farm was already well provisioned. Why then, was Nick out filling his backpack with goods that other people would need?

  Joshua remained still and counted sixty seconds ten times. Ten minutes should be long enough. He unlocked the car door and got out, stretching and pulling his clothes back into alignment with his body. Then he walked down the alley and around the block to the front door of the grocery.

  The bell jangled as he opened the door and stepped in. There, in the early morning light that entered the shop through the window in the front door, was a man lying in a pool of blood. The copper odor was strong, and Joshua didn’t bother checking for a pulse. The man’s face was gray, and the amount of blood on the floor was more than any person could live without. He bowed his head. Just yesterday, this man had given him a loaf of bread.

  Footfalls on broken glass sounded from behind him, and he raised his hands into the air.

  “Turn around.” The woman’s voice was grim. “And keep your hands up where I can see them.”

  Joshua turned slowly, careful not to make any sudden moves.

  As she caught sight of his face, the expression in her eyes turned from hatred to confusion. “You aren’t one of the men who killed Ron.”

  “No,” Joshua said, “but I saw them leave, and I know who they are.”

  “How do you know them?” The suspicion was back in her voice.

  “I picked one of them up in my car and brought him and his kids up here.”

  “And you disliked them enough to rat them out?” Her jaw was tight, and the expression in her eyes was hard again. “Why should I believe you?”

  “Because I don’t have any reason to steer you wrong. This man”—Joshua motioned to the dead man—“Ron? He gave me food yesterday. He was a kind man and didn’t deserve to die. I’m frankly surprised that Nick was in on it. I mistook him.”

  “People change in hard times,” the woman said and lowered her gun. “What can you tell me about the people who did this?” she asked.

  “They have a bug out base camp a few miles from here, to the north of town. In fact, I begged them to let me stay there. But they turned me away. Now, I'm sleeping out of my car.”

  The woman’s curly, brown hair bobbed as she nodded slowly. “Listen, I’ll make you a deal,” she said, gritting her teeth. “I have a place you can crash, but you have to do one thing.”

  “Sure. Name it.”

  “Show me on a map where this camp is, and tell me everything you know about it.”

  Joshua took a deep breath, letting it out slow. He considered the woman's offer, seemingly too goo
d to pass up. He’d considered continuing along toward Canada, but how many miles further could he get before his car was completely empty of fuel? Where would he be stuck when it ran dry? No, it seemed better to stay here.

  A sudden wave of empathy struck him as he considered Nick's children, Rae Ann and Corey, who were also at the camp. “They have children there,” Joshua sputtered, unable to contain his thoughts.

  “We aren’t in the business of hurting children. You have my word.”

  Joshua considered the offer again, and weighed it against the woman’s promise that she wouldn't harm any of the children. He hoped she was sincere.

  The woman shifted her weight. “And I can sweeten the deal—we’ve still got plenty of food, so you won't have to scrounge.”

  Joshua pursed his lips. He opened his mouth to speak before he could talk himself out of the deal that could very well save him from being out on the street and starving. “Okay,” he muttered, “we have a deal.”

  The woman nodded somberly. “Good. So, what's your name?”

  “Joshua. May I know yours?”

  The woman held out a hand. “Cindy. Cindy Hammel.”

  22

  Abram was just coming out of the upper barn where he’d been feeding the animals with Shelly when he spotted Gary and Nick coming down the drive. He’d wondered why he couldn’t find Nick when he’d come out at dawn, and now he knew why. Gary had gone on a supply run without his permission. His jaw tightened with exasperation when he noticed Nick’s expression. Clearly, something had gone wrong.

  “Where have you been, Gary?” Abram asked, moving to meet them on the drive.

  “You can see where we’ve been. It doesn’t suit you to play dumb.”

  “You took Nick on a supply run.”

  “We’ve got another day’s worth of food, but that’s all. We’ll have to go again.”

 

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