Out of the Dark: An apocalyptic thriller

by Ashlei Hawley

  “It’s only about an hour’s drive, Ray,” Amy started hesitantly. “Maybe you could stay with me once we get more people around us.”

  “I doubt the freeway will stay open the whole way, Amy,” Ray responded. “You’ll have to drive slow, as is. And chances are, you’ll have to ditch this car, go a while on foot, maybe find another if the road clears. By dark, I can’t be alone with you. It just won’t be safe.”

  It seemed a stupid, childish curfew. Sun’s setting, time for bed. All the kids have to go home instead of staying out to play. Amy hated it; hated that the only living, friendly, non-psychotic person she currently knew would have to abandon her in what seemed a woefully small amount of hours.

  Trying to remain bright and steer herself away from her own defeatist thoughts, Amy smiled-brightly, she hoped-and turned the radio back on. The car owner was bound to have a couple of CDs for the CD player.

  While she searched, she said to Ray, “Okay, why don’t we just talk for a while?”

  Though his eyes were still desolate, his smile was warm when he replied, “What would you like to talk about?”

  “Surprise me,” Amy said back, to which Ray said, “All right.”

  Chapter Eight

  While Ray talked and Amy drove, Austin and Sam were just pulling into the driveway of the Walker family home. Though Sam had cautioned himself against foolish hope that his family was safe and secure and untouched by the plague, his heart jumped into his throat and his chest swelled with unhampered joy just to see the forest green siding and neatly trimmed bushes that marked this house as his own. His night-black Chevy truck with its extended cab sat in the driveway, just where he’d left it. Dennis had picked him up on the way to the emergency summons. It seemed like it had been a lifetime ago when it had only been the day before.

  “Nice place,” Austin said in his way that Sam had come to realize was innate politeness cultured with parental training. “It’s got a good look,” the kid continued. “Like good people live here.”

  “We like to think so,” Sam replied as he put the Aveo in park. He was already planning what could be packed into the tiny car if he and those in his care had to leave the house for some reason. There were always a hundred different possibilities, and Sam tried to be prepared for every one.

  Stepping out of the Aveo, Sam tossed the keys on the driver’s seat, slammed his door and was up the driveway before Austin had grabbed the keys up, stepped out of and shut his own door. He pressed the lock button as he followed Sam toward the front door and was satisfied when he heard the familiar beep indicating the car was as secure as he could make it.

  “Sam, wait!” Austin exclaimed as he joined the older man on the front porch. “Go slower. Be careful. I know that…”

  He was cut off when Sam thrust his key in the door lock and turned the handle, pushing it open before considering the potential situation he was walking blindly into. Austin was torn between putting his hands up in defense of whatever horror may launch itself at them in attack and turning back toward the car for a quick escape route.

  “Laura!” Sam called as he stepped into the foyer. He noted the number of shoes, same as there were when he left, and it buoyed his spirits incredibly. For hope to spring up in such a huge swelling, his secret fear of finding them all dead, gone or worse must have been greater than he admitted to himself.

  “Trev, Mel?”

  As he nearly sprinted down the short hallway, Sam continued calling for his family. His focus was so great that he almost ran straight into the baseball bat that Laura swung at him from the end of the hallway, where she stood slightly beyond the entryway to the kitchen.

  Austin cried out a wordless warning, Sam ducked and Laura screamed something he couldn’t immediately decipher over the panicked demands for him to prove who and what he was.

  “Laura, Laura, calm down,” Sam started soothingly as he came up under the baseball bat, which she still held out defensively, and held out his arms to her. “It’s me. It’s Sam. I know everything’s going wrong, baby, but I promise it’s really me.”

  With a relieved sob, Laura dropped the bat and clung to her husband, speaking against his chest in a way that made it difficult for Austin to understand what she was saying to him. The possibility of immediate danger having passed, Austin turned back to the front door and made sure it was locked. Having someone or something sneaking up on them when it could be prevented was not high on his list of things he wanted to happen.

  “Where have you been?” Austin finally heard an intelligible question from Laura. She touched his face and shoulder with a horrified look and demanded, “What happened?” Then, with a quick look toward Austin, she asked, “And who is he?”

  Instead of the usual concern Laura would express for a young man in Austin’s position, Laura looked suspicious and hesitant to allow him into her home. Something must have happened to affect her deeply sometime in the night.

  “This is Austin,” Sam said. His tone was comforting as he pulled Laura toward the teenager. “I borrowed his mom’s car to get back to you. He patched the shoulder up. Austin, this is my wife, Laura. Now, where are the kids?”

  As Laura tentatively shook Austin’s hand, Sam moved from the kitchen entrance into the other parts of the house, seeking his children.

  Melissa came first, launching herself at her father and burying her face against his neck. The corruption Sam knew existed inside him tried to fling itself from within its host, desiring nothing more than to attack the small, trembling girl. Sam kept the shadow creature at bay, vowing he would not allow it to hurt his daughter.

  ‘Daddy, something’s wrong with Mommy. And…” she trailed off, her voice developing more of a tremor as Trevor entered the room.

  Sam put Melissa down but kept one of her small hands in his own. He appraised his son, and knew that something was wrong with him. It was not the same wrongness that infected Sam himself, or Austin or Laura. Both of his children were different from the others in the house; Mel because she wasn’t affected by the blight and Trevor because whatever was inside him was not the same as the other shadow infections.

  Trevor’s eyes were black. The warm brown had been totally enveloped by inky evidence of infection. Sam hadn’t exactly studied a mirror lately, but something told him his eyes did not look like his son’s.

  “Trev,” Sam said as he reached out to his boy with his free hand.

  The moment he touched Trevor’s cheek, his son’s eyes cleared of the blackness and confusion clouded them instead.

  “Dad?” he said softly.

  Sam pulled Trevor to him and gave him a tight, one-armed hug. “I’m back, Trev. How’s it hanging, buddy?”

  Still perplexed, Trevor wrapped his arms around his father and tucked his cheek against his waist.

  “I-I don’t know,” the boy responded. His voice seemed much smaller than the last time Sam had heard it.

  Laura came up behind them, wringing her hands concernedly. Sam wanted to talk to her alone about what had transpired in the night.

  “Sam,” she said, and her voice was full of questions she was hesitant to ask.

  “Let’s all go in the living room to talk,” he said, including Austin in that invitation. “There’s a lot we have to figure out.”

  The living room was on the opposite side of the kitchen, so Sam and his family walked back through, across the tile and past the white stove and refrigerator before they touched the chocolate brown carpet of the living room.

  Laura sat on the comfy blue couch, pulling Melissa to her so the girl sat beside her. Sam took the reclining chair, brown like the carpet and still plump with newness. The recliner had been a new addition this time last year, an early Christmas present from Laura to her husband.

  As soon as Trevor’s hand left Sam’s, the boy’s eyes flooded again with that diseased darkness. Frowning, perplexed, Sam reached out and grabbed Trevor again. His eyes cleared, and the aura of infection greatly lessened. Sam knew that there was something
terribly important about the interaction, but he didn’t know enough to come to a solid conclusion about it.

  Deciding to maintain physical contact as much as he could, Sam pulled the boy gently onto his lap. Austin sat on the couch, leaving the middle cushion open between himself and Laura, who was holding Melissa like a big, fleshy teddy bear.

  “Something is obviously wrong,” Sam began without preamble. No one made any objections. “If we can figure out what it is, great, but the main concern is staying safe, staying together and staying under cover.”

  “So, we stay here,” Laura said. Her voice was stronger than it had been, full of relief at having Sam home and to be started working on a plan. “We barricade the doors and windows. We’re already well-stocked on food and water. We just stay here until whatever this is ends?”

  “Maybe,” Sam said, hating to crush her newfound resolve. “But there’s a chance we’ll have to move. Here’s what I propose for the day: barricading is a good idea. Take inventory of everything we have. Laura, I want you to focus on that. Then we need to take half of our nonperishable supply and stock the cars. The cars need to be stocked with everything we need for a quick escape. In the truck, I want blankets, the tents, pillows, all extra personal care supplies. The camping packs are a must. Flashlights with as many extra batteries as we can find. Anything else you think we need, ask me before you pack it. If either of the vehicles fails, we may need to abandon our supplies. Things we leave here will still be here when we come back, okay?”

  He didn’t say this so much for Laura’s sake, but for Melissa’s and Trevor’s. He knew the kids would have an exceptionally hard time leaving behind some of their belongings. It was going to be difficult, but with the right assurances, both children would do what needed to be done. They were good kids.

  “Something seems particularly…unique about Trevor,” Sam said, moving to a different topic he wanted to address. “And it seems to be lessened when I’m touching him, so Trev is going to stay by me at all times. You got that, bud?”

  Giving Trevor a little squeeze, Sam hoped his son would acknowledge what he’d said. If he had to hold Trevor’s hand constantly, things would be a lot more difficult to pack, barricade and organize.

  Trevor didn’t say anything, but he did nod. That was good enough for Sam.

  “Okay, everyone,” Sam said as he clapped his hands. Trevor barely shifted on his father’s lap. “Let’s get to work. Austin, you, me and Trevor are going to work on the barricades. Laura, start on the list. Have Mel follow you around and pack up what you think we’ll need. Everyone got it?”

  There were semi-enthusiastic murmurs of agreement from the rest of Sam’s family. Laura squeezed Melissa and said, “Okay, sweetie, let’s go to the kitchen. We’re going to start packing some of the food up.”

  “Yes, Mama,” Melissa responded dutifully. They left the room holding hands.

  “Austin, we have three doors. The door to the garage we’re not going to worry about, because we’ll need to get in there quickly if we have to move. Two windows in here, one in each of the kids’ rooms, two in our bedroom. The one in the kitchen is high enough and small enough not to be a concern.”

  Sam hesitated about the next issue he wanted to address. He remembered the thing in the basement of the last home he and Dennis had been in together, but his basement had been designed to be his fallback in the event of some catastrophe. Most of his supply cache was down there. He would check the basement himself, he decided, and leave Trevor in Austin’s care for the few moments it would take to secure the lower area of the house. Surely not much could happen in just a few minutes.

  Having thought that made Sam even more nervous as he descended the staircase. The lights were strong as he flicked on the switch, and they chased the shadows back effectively. These lights were new, bright and he was glad for the investment he had made to remodel the basement four years ago. The place was a sanctuary against the new darkness, from the energy-conserving lighting to the six LED lanterns carefully stored beneath the stairs. Even when the power failed-which it would-this room was designed to be well-lit at all times.

  Though the power was still operational, Sam grabbed one of the lanterns as he reached the foot of the stairs. He did not want to be without light even for a moment. If the power failed, light would be in his hand within a few seconds.

  Sam checked every corner and closet. He looked underneath the stairs, behind the washer and dryer and behind the furnace. The ceiling was covered in drywall and painted with blue stars, a project done more for the kids as this had become a playroom while still being used as Sam’s survival storage.

  The closets were full of everything Sam had collected through the years. Though the pantry upstairs was always full of canned goods and a good stock of nonperishable food items, these closets were wall-to-wall packed with overstock: canned vegetables, canned fruits, vacuum-sealed dried meats (packaged within the last few months), several “just-add-water” meals and military MREs Sam had purchased online a little over two years ago.

  Of the three closets in the basement, one was devoted to food, one to bottled water and one to miscellaneous equipment. Two small portable stoves, one that operated on propane and an even smaller one that used Sterno cans (which Sam had a respectable supply of) were tucked into the tool closet.

  Sam had installed a wood-burning stove four winters ago with the remodel, and it burned even now, keeping the room toasty warm. It would continue to do so even if the power went out, which was why Sam had considered and finally invested in the installation in the first place. There was a large stockpile of junk mail, newspapers, and other burnable products. To the right of the stove, an iron stand held pieces of wood to burn, taken in every night from the much larger stockpile outside. Last summer, Laura and Sam had removed all of the trees from the backyard (three of them, two which had been impressively tall maples and one big old bastard, a highly annoying willow). The wood from all of those trees had been carefully cut and stacked out back beside the patio, and would last them several winters at least.

  Sam made a mental note to himself to check the privacy fence that surrounded the backyard for weaknesses. When the winter got colder and the snow got higher, people would be searching for things to burn. Sam’s stockpile would appeal to the needy wanderer.

  Disguising the wood hadn’t been the intention of the privacy fence when it had been installed; Sam simply had never had a good relationship with their neighbor to the left. He didn’t like the man, who lived on his own and was wont to stare lecherously at Laura-and on one occasion that nearly escalated to a physical confrontation, Melissa-while they frolicked or sunbathed near their in ground pool.

  As he realized just how well-prepared his family was for this and any disaster, he said a prayer of thanks and requested protection for the man who had made everything possible: Laura’s father, Bill. A business owner and a very loving family man, Bill had liquidated his family business instead of forcing Laura to take it over when he retired, which she had adamantly declared she did not want to do. She’d loved growing up promoting and being proud of the business, but it was not what she wanted to do with her life. Being an understanding man, Bill had agreed and split the liquidated assets in half, giving his daughter enough money to live on for the rest of her life if she did not live lavishly, which Laura had never done. Sam still worked, and loved his work, but they owed their well-stocked, well-prepared house solely to Bill Atkinson’s generosity.

  Sam’s breath was shaky when he let it out. He’d been so focused on his need to return to Laura and the kids that he’d completely neglected part of the emergency plan.

  He knew the cell phones weren’t working, but Bill and his Jack Russell Terrier, Betty didn’t live that far from them-fifteen minutes if anything. Laura wouldn’t ask him to go, but Sam felt a responsibility to his father-in-law that couldn’t be ignored. However, without another adult around, Sam was incredibly hesitant to leave his wife, children and Austin.
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br />   “Shit,” Sam swore quietly. Bill was supposed to be with them. Laura had only her father left, as her mother had passed more than ten years ago and she’d been an only child. Her extended family was in Ohio, and Amy’s parents were in Washington. Bill was the only one near them, and really the only one who mattered.

  Besides Amy, Sam thought suddenly and the blood froze in his veins. He too often forgot about Amy, a shy but smart girl, Laura’s cousin, who had chosen Laura’s home state to go to college at. God only knew what Amy had gone through last night, and what she was possibly still going through. She might not say anything about Bill, though it would tear her up inside not to know if he was safe, but Laura wasn’t going to sit idly by while Amy was out there alone. Laura was Amy’s only family here and she took her responsibility to her younger cousin very seriously.

  “Son of a bitch,” Sam muttered as he jogged back up the stairs after replacing the lantern beneath them. He knew his cache was safe. Laura’s family, he wasn’t so sure about.

  As Sam reached the main floor landing, Sam found himself thinking of his own family; two brothers married with children, a sister who lived alone and his parents, still together and very much still in love. His ability to push them to the back of his mind through the onset of this disaster was not something he had expected of himself, and it made him feel momentarily like a bad person. Bad person but good father he could eventually forgive himself for. He was here with and for his wife and children. They had inspired his move away from his native Florida to Michigan and had never regretted it. But he would regret how his family would see him if he didn’t do everything he could for the extended family they rarely saw but loved dearly.

  “Laura,” he called from the landing, hoping she and Melissa had finished the task he’d assigned to them.