The Darkest Part of the Night

by David Spell

  “I’m kind of nervous about meeting Melanie,” Rebecca commented. “What if she doesn’t like me?”

  “No need to be nervous. She’s going to love you. You guys will be best buddies before the day is out.”

  She looked out the window at the passing countryside.

  “What makes you nervous, Chuck? I know it’s nothing from work. It’s like you have ice water in your veins dealing with the stuff we have to deal with. I’ve never seen you get rattled, except when you asked me out that first time,” she said with a smile.

  He looked at her sideways and tried to think of the best way to frame his answer. That memory of finally getting the courage to ask her out made him smile.

  “Really? Did my nerves show that much?”

  She laughed and said, “You were scared, big man. But you did it. And, here we are. But, there has to be something else that rattles you?”

  He took a deep breath and looked straight ahead as he drove.

  “I’m nervous every time we’re together like this that you’ll tell me you don’t think it’s a good idea that we’re dating. That you’ll say you just want to be friends. That you’ll say you’re going back to your policy of not having a relationship with someone you work with.”

  She reached over and took his hand in hers, brought it to her mouth and kissed it. She looked at him until he looked over,

  “I’m never going to say any of those things to you,” she said.

  McCain smiled. “That’s a relief. I’d hate to make you walk back to Atlanta.”

  Rebecca sensed that Chuck wanted to say more but for the moment he was quiet.

  For the first time since his divorce, so many years before, McCain felt something. He had dated a few women over the years but had not connected with anyone like he had with Rebecca. He loved her. He wasn’t just attracted to her because of her beauty or intelligence or personality. It was even deeper than that. He was totally and completely in love with her.

  That was another thing that made him nervous, he admitted to himself. He was terrified to actually to say those words and to share his deepest feelings. Should he or shouldn’t he? That might scare her off, but he was beginning to think that she might actually love him, too. Maybe on the drive back, he told himself. Let’s have a nice day with Melanie and Brian and then later on, I can bare my soul to Rebecca.

  Atlanta, Saturday, 1200 hours

  Emily Clark parked her Nissan Versa and walked across the parking lot to the apartment building. This was their second date. She had been hesitant to go out with the big, bearded man. She had thrown a few excuses at him but he had kept coming back. He just wouldn’t give up. Finally, she had agreed to meet him for pizza. He had sensed her hesitancy at his offer to pick her up so he suggested meeting her and even let her pick the restaurant.

  And, she had had a great time. Scotty Smith had been a perfect gentleman. Emily wasn’t sure what she had expected. When she had met him, it had been in a professional capacity. He and Andy Fleming had taken out a van load of terrorists on the interstate. Both men had been shot during the firefight. Fortunately, neither man’s wounds were serious.

  Clark was the paramedic who had ridden in the back of the ambulance with them to the hospital. That was after she had gotten Chuck McCain to take their rifles from them. Both men were determined not to be disarmed. The compromise that they had reached was that McCain had kept their rifles but the two officers were allowed to keep their pistols with them.

  It had turned out to be a good thing that they were armed. Infected people started showing up at the emergency room and they had shot several. Yet, somehow, Smith had gotten Emily to give him her phone number. And, he was persistent.

  On their first date, Scotty had been so sweet. He had asked her questions about her job, her family and her hobbies. When he found out that she did CrossFit several days a week, he nodded approvingly. There was no question about whether or not he worked out. Emily had seen him without a shirt on. She pictured him in the gym as one of those guys grunting, lifting really heavy weights, and then dropping them on the floor with a loud crash.

  She knew that he was involved in fighting the zombie virus but he didn’t give her many specifics about his job. Today, she planned on learning more about him. He had made their first date all about her; today she wanted to make it all about him.

  When he had invited her to his apartment for lunch, she again felt a bit of hesitation. Scotty picked it up immediately and said, “Hey, if you’d feel better going out to a restaurant or a park or anywhere, that’s fine with me. I’d just like to spend some more time with you.”

  She had never had a guy try so hard to make her feel comfortable. “I’d love to come over,” she finally said, “but there’s one condition.”

  “You want to bring your mom as a chaperone? No problem,” he said.

  She laughed into the phone. “No, we just have to watch the Georgia game,” she said.

  “You like football?” he asked with amazement.

  “Is the Pope Catholic?”

  “Well, ok! I’ll burn us some steaks and we’ll watch the game. That sounds like a great afternoon.”

  Georgia Square Mall, Athens, Georgia, 1200 hours

  Amir slept in his car next to the North Oconee River, just south of Athens. He found a dirt drive that led off the roadway to an area where it looked like people had been parking to fish, camp, and party. He backed into the secluded spot next to some trees where his car was concealed from the road.

  At this point, he didn’t want to take the chance on using a hotel. Especially after Mohamud’s death, he did not need a suspicious hotel clerk calling the police on him. He reclined the driver’s seat and slept lightly in his car with the 9mm Beretta pistol in his hand.

  When he woke up, just before sunrise, he got out of the car with his prayer rug and said his prayers. Amir had been lax for the last couple of weeks in his prayers but he knew that Allah understood. It had been a busy time as he had planned and initiated attacks against the enemies of Islam. Today, though, he knew that he needed Allah’s guidance and protection if he was going to be successful. He did not need his hatred for America to make him careless. His main concern now was a zealous local cop who recognized him from a wanted poster.

  When he had first arrived in Athens on Thursday, Amir found a store selling Georgia Bulldogs clothing. He had purchased a hat and a t-shirt bearing the hideous image of a dog. He was offended to even be wearing the items but he knew that they would help him to blend in. He would be able to throw those offensive clothes away soon enough.

  When his prayers were over, he found a spot on the bank of the river and spent an hour mentally rehearsing his attack. He thought through every part of his plan and the built-in contingencies. When he was finished, he ate a sandwich that he had purchased the evening before at a convenience store and drank some bottled water.

  After his attacks today, al-Razi would start driving towards Washington, D. C. His orders were to contact his handler, Ruhollah Ali Bukhari, and see what his next mission was. He hoped for an even larger role in this continuing jihad against America. Imam Ruhollah had made it clear that their next meeting would be face-to-face.

  Amir’s first order of business when he got to the mall was to eat. He ordered a Philly Cheesesteak at the food court and then sat near the coffee shop he had identified as his first target. He ate quickly and noticed with satisfaction that the mall and the food court were both busy. It would be a good day.

  After finishing his lunch, al-Razi walked into the coffee shop and ordered a cup to go. The young girl behind the counter smiled at Amir’s UGA clothing and said, “Go Dawgs!”

  He managed to smile at her and say, “Yes, of course.”

  She handed him his coffee and he walked over to the small counter where the cream and sugar were kept. He prepped his drink and then set it to the side. He glanced around. No one was paying any attention to him in the crowded coffee shop. The line of customers ordering w
as now six deep as people wanted a midday caffeine boost. He felt his heart beating faster.

  Amir reached into his pocket and carefully pulled out a small glass vial. He would have preferred to have rubber gloves on but that would draw attention. He saw that his hands were shaking slightly. He must be very careful.

  He acted like he was having trouble with the pitcher of cream and unscrewed the top. It was three quarters full. Perfect. He quickly tipped the clear contents of the vial into the container and screwed the top back on. The empty vial was dropped into the opening on the counter for trash.

  The terrorist exited the coffee shop as a middle-aged man and woman, both wearing UGA clothing, came to the counter to prepare their coffee. Amir paused in the doorway and saw her reaching for the pitcher of cream. He walked down the mall until he came to the stairs. He climbed to the upper level and continued until he was near the entrance.

  He stood at the rail, looking down and sipping his own coffee. He gazed back down towards the food court and the coffee shop. As he sipped the last of his drink, he heard a scream. It was followed by an even louder one. That was followed by yelling and several people running from the direction of the cafe. Al-Razi turned and hurried out the exit to his car, throwing his coffee cup in the trash.

  Athens, Georgia, Saturday, 1200 hours

  Chuck, Rebecca, Melanie and Brian met for lunch at the Bulldog Cafe. The game day atmosphere in the city had put them all in the mood for hamburgers and the Bulldog Cafe was known for great burgers. Chuck watched Melanie and Rebecca talking animatedly as they shared their university experiences. He was happy to see how the two of them had quickly become friends.

  McCain was also impressed by Brian. He and Melanie had been dating for almost two months. He, too, was studying to be a teacher. His goal was to teach high school math. One of the things that pleased Chuck was that Brian was very involved in his church as a youth leader.

  Chuck had raised Melanie in church and was still as active as he could be, when he wasn’t fighting zombie terrorists. He had been concerned that Melanie might drift away from her faith when she had gone away to university. She told him that she had visited a few of the local churches in Athens but had never found one like her home congregation, The Hope Church, that she and her dad had attended for years.

  Now, Brian was picking her up every Sunday and taking her to church with him. In Chuck’s mind, that spoke volumes about the young man. He could tell that the young couple really liked each other and that made him happy, too.

  “Mr. McCain, I know you probably can’t talk about your work stuff,” Brian said as he leaned towards Chuck with a lowered voice. “Melanie showed me all the news videos, though, of you and your guys dealing with some really bad situations.”

  McCain glanced over at the two women. They both saw him looking at them and stopped talking. He guessed they had been talking about him because Rebecca looked embarrassed and Melanie had a big smile on her face.

  Rebecca grabbed her purse. “We’re going to the ladies room. I think you guys can survive without us for a few minutes.”

  Chuck looked back at Brian. He realized that this young man would be the one to protect his daughter. As much as he wanted to be there for her, he just was not able because of the distance and their very different lives.

  “Brian, this is the most dangerous threat that America has ever faced. The news, for once, is downplaying it so that we don’t have a nationwide panic. I told Mel a few weeks ago that I wanted her to start carrying her pistol at all times.”

  “She told me. And she’s been carrying it. Whatever you said to her got her attention. It makes me nervous, just because I don’t want to see her get in trouble for carrying a pistol on campus.”

  “I know. I’m a cop. I get it. But, I think in this case, it’s worth the risk. You have a pistol permit, right?”

  “I do. I was thinking about taking Melanie to get hers.”

  “That would be great. I told her I’d pay for it. I wanted to help her get it, but, as you mentioned, things have been kind of crazy at work.”

  “I saw on the news yesterday where one of the terrorists behind that attack on the high school got killed by the CDC police in Atlanta, near Georgia State.”

  Chuck nodded. “That’s correct but I can’t talk about it. I don’t want to tell you what to do either, but I’d recommend carrying your pistol with you all the time. Mel said you have a Glock?”

  “Yes, sir. I have a few Glocks. I like the .40 caliber. I have the Model 22, 23, and the 27. One for every occasion,” he said with a smile.

  “Good choices. And, God forbid it happens, but if you’re confronted by someone who’s infected with this virus, take your time and make a head shot. Nothing else works.”

  “Do you think the virus will ever get out here? We’re a long way from the big city. From what I’ve seen on the news, that seems to be where most of the attacks have taken place.”

  “I don’t know. Anything’s possible. The high school that was attacked is forty-five minutes out of the city. I just think it’s good to be prepared.”

  A uniformed police officer, a corporal, was eating on the other side of the restaurant. Chuck noticed approvingly that he had positioned himself where he could see the entire dining area and watch the front entrance while he ate his burger. He had an ear piece connected to his police radio. The officer suddenly dropped his half-finished hamburger and pulled out his wallet. He left some money on the table, said something into the radio, and left the restaurant quickly. A minute later, a siren came on and the police cruiser raced out of the parking lot.

  Georgia Square Mall, Athens, Georgia, 1300 hours

  The first 911 call from the mall was for a domestic dispute in the food court. Moments later, another call came in reporting that a woman was assaulting a man near a cafe inside the mall. A few minutes after that, another citizen dialed 911 and said that there were multiple people fighting in the food court and it was spreading out into the rest of the mall. Other calls came in requesting ambulances and more police.

  All of the police in the Athens-Clarke County area knew that game day brought out the best and the worst in people. With the first call of a domestic dispute, only two officers and a supervisor cleared to be enroute. As the other 911 complaints came in, three other officers cleared as well.

  Officer Barry Adams was driving by the mall as the first call was dispatched. Adams was a four-year veteran of the force. He chuckled to himself as he pulled into the parking lot. Domestic calls were always entertaining. This one sounded like a good call as it was upgraded to a woman assaulting a man. Usually, it was the other way around. What had he done to make her attack him? This would be interesting, he thought.

  He parked in the fire lane near the lower level entrance that opened into the food court. When Officer Adams told the dispatcher that he was there, his backup officer said that he was still about five minutes away. Barry considered waiting outside until the other officer arrived. He knew how handle domestic calls, though, and he didn’t feel like standing outside waiting for his partner. There might not be anything to the call and, if not, he could cancel his backup. It was as Adams entered the mall, the dispatcher let the officers know that there was a large fight in progress in the food court. Barry stepped into a scene of complete chaos.

  In front of him, next to the door, an older man clad in red and white UGA clothes was lying on his back. A younger man was on top of him biting at his neck and growling loudly. A large pool of blood had spread out from the victim. This same thing was being repeated throughout the food court.

  Adams was a seasoned police officer, but for a moment, he experienced sensory overload. He stepped into the food court expecting a simple domestic call. Now, he didn’t know whether he should reach for his pistol, his taser, or his radio. He decided on the radio but before he could transmit, someone ran into him and knocked him into one of the fixed tables that were scattered around the open dining area.

  The of
ficer was surprised but his training kicked in. He pushed the attacker away with his left arm and reached for his pistol with his right. His attacker was a young black man wearing the white shirt of a mall security guard. His eyes were glazed over and a growl was coming from deep within his throat. There was blood on the guard’s left arm and blood on the front of his shirt. Adams knew this kid. He recognized him from a previous conversation about his desire to get on the police force. Now, he was acting crazy.

  “Stop it!” Adams ordered. “What’s the matter with you?”

  The security guard grabbed at Adams’ left arm and bit down on his forearm. Barry hesitated to shoot the young man. He wasn’t armed but he was really biting down on his arm. The police officer slammed the Glock 22 pistol against the security guard’s head. It opened a large cut across his face but he didn’t release his grip.

  Someone else slammed into Adams’ right side. He glanced over and saw a middle-aged woman wearing a UGA football jersey. Her face was covered with blood and she was also growling loudly. She probably didn’t weigh any more than a hundred pounds but when the officer tried to shove her away with his forearm, she bit down on his right arm.

  Barry continued to fight but he suddenly felt a wave of nausea go through him, to go along with his feelings of fear and panic. Sudden dizziness hit him and he lost his balance. His pistol fell out of his hand and he found himself lying on his back. The security guard’s face loomed over him and he felt teeth biting into his neck.