SHANE! Can’t get thru to u! towns gone fuckin nuts! @ a motel. Plz come soon!
An address and room number followed. Shane saw the contact name on top of the text and a chill swept through him. Stephanie. Though she had a multitude of acquaintances she was cordial with, Stephanie had very few close friends and fewer close family members. Shane was one of the only people she trusted. She’d affectionately nicknamed him her knight in shining armor, for the circumstances that had surrounded their first meeting.
He fiddled with his phone, trying to see if a text he sent would go back through to Stephanie. He typed, with others now. Will come 2 u ASAP. Stay safe. Anyone else w/ u?
He pushed send and the screen informed him that it was trying to send the message. Within a few seconds, red letters informed him, ‘The text message was not sent. Do you want to resend the message?’ Shane pushed a button for yes. He made the attempt several more times before he came to terms with the fact that the message was not going to go through. He was just sending it over and over again into the oblivion of no longer operational airwaves. He wondered if there was another way he could reach her, and thought about it for a few moments before giving up the whole thought process as a hopeless endeavor.
Shane started as he realized he’d been sitting in the Walker driveway for several long minutes with the engine off but doors still locked because he was afraid. He was afraid there was something in the darkness, something that waited to pounce on him with teeth and claws as soon as he exited the meager safety offered by the vehicle. Should he stay the night, at least, he wondered to himself, then immediately decided against that particular course of action. Between Bill’s unnerving knowledge of what was wrong with Trevor and Ray’s prophetic warnings, Shane wasn’t comfortable staying another minute longer in the household than he had to. He was even less willing to let Leila stay anywhere near so definite a danger.
Because the tire iron had been lost with Ray in Bill’s home, Shane exited the car with no weapon whatsoever, clinging to his phone with the text message still on the screen like a talisman against the darkness, and the things that resided within it. Feeling moderately foolish when nothing leapt on him from within the night, he still sprinted toward the door instead of walking casually. Better to look the fool, he thought, than to end up someone’s nighttime snack.
He knocked on the door, loud enough to be heard but he hoped softly enough that it didn’t carry.
Austin, on the other side of the door, checked through the peephole and saw a frantic-looking Shane and no one else. That wasn’t a good start, he thought, and pulled the door open with a heavy heart.
Shane slipped in and gave the boy a look that told him all he needed to know. Ray was gone and Bill wasn’t coming.
Because it needed to be said, Shane admitted, “There’s no one else coming. It’s just me.”
From down the hallway, Amy burst into tears after hearing his words.
Moved out of innate compassion and a wrenching grief he didn’t know he could feel for someone he’d only been acquainted with for such a short time, Shane took the few steps that separated him from Amy and took her into his arms. There, she struggled, cursed him, railed against him and then eventually quieted, leaning her head into his chest so she could sob over the loss of her dear friend.
“I’m sorry.” He must’ve repeated it a million times already, Shane thought, and still it wasn’t enough. It couldn’t possibly be enough, not ever.
“What happened?” Amy finally whispered, after all the tears had left her. “Tell me what happened, Shane.”
Leading her to the living room by the hand, Shane saw that Sam had been awakened by the noise of Shane’s return. The firefighter’s eyes darkened with grief and anger to see that Shane was unaccompanied by his father-in-law or Amy’s young friend.
“Dead or no?” Sam asked, tightening his grip on Trevor’s hand before the boy could get up to see to Amy. Trevor favored his second cousin, and was agitated at her tears, but he stayed seated at his father’s unspoken protest.
“He was corrupted,” Shane admitted softly as he sat near Amy. With a grateful smile, he accepted the coffee Laura wordlessly offered him. He took a sip, found it strong and mildly flavored with something unfamiliar. He took a second drink, approved of the taste, and continued talking as he stroked Amy’s hand. The girl needed calming, needed comfort, and he figured he had as much right to offer it on that night as anyone else.
“Corrupted,” Sam echoed with a sigh. “Christ. I should’ve seen to him first.” Rubbing his free hand over the stubble that was beginning to take over his jaw, he tried to wipe away the enormous uprising of guilt that swept through him. He couldn’t fight it back, and had a hard time looking at his wife.
“Ray would have said that when you saw to him had nothing to do with it,” Shane reminded the other man. “People close to the uncorrupted, they were hit first and they were hit hard. Chances are Bill was gone from the Onset.”
Hearing a sniffle, Shane looked up at Laura just as she dropped the mug that steamed with tea that she was bringing to Amy. It shattered on the hardwood, and Laura’s composure followed. Melissa tucked herself against her mother’s side as Laura simply sat on the floor beside the broken mug and sobbed for the loss of her father.
“He isn’t dead, though,” Sam ventured, hoping that something less finite than death might bolster Laura’s spirits, even slightly.
“You know that corrupted is just as bad,” Shane retorted glumly, not wanting Sam to offer Laura such empty comfort. “He wasn’t him, and I don’t think anything could put him to rights again. When I left, Ray was bleeding from places where Bill just up and tore chunks out of him.”
Amy stopped in her quiet weeping and grabbed Shane on the arm. “He isn’t dead?” she asked in a whisper.
“Amy,” Shane started carefully. “You can’t think of him as salvageable right now. Chances are, he didn’t survive another bout with Bill after I left. And even if he did, even if he left him locked in that room and ran, he’s not going to live long with the kind of injuries he had inflicted on him. He’s gone, honey. Or good as.”
Though the tears wanted to start back up again, Amy shook her head and stifled them. Setting her chin at a stubborn angle, she held onto whatever hope she could save in regards to her friend. Ray deserved that much from her.
“I won’t give up hoping that he’s alive,” she told Shane before she left the couch and knelt on the other side of Laura to comfort her still-weeping cousin.
“There are other things we need to discuss,” Shane said reluctantly with his eyes on Trevor. “I can’t stay here, and Leila will be coming with me. I’d like Amy to, as well.”
At hearing her name, Amy started, lifting surprised blue eyes to his. Her mouth formed a silent O that let him know he’d shocked her speechless.
“I know you don’t want to leave your family,” Shane started, but Sam cut him off.
“Damn right she’s not leaving her family!” He wanted to stand and pace, but with Trevor holding his hand, it was more convenient to sit and seethe over Shane’s proposal. “Why the hell would you think she’d leave?”
“It isn’t safe here,” Shane insisted, calmly to counter Sam’s obvious rage. “You know it’s true. Whatever has Trevor, the uncorrupted aren’t safe around him.”
Though she didn’t contribute to the conversation, Laura had stopped sobbing and clung more tightly to the girls beside her. She’d be damned if she’d let either of them go, no matter the supposed danger. Outside was the unknown, a threat that could sink claw or fang or worse into the tender flesh of two of her family members she felt duty-bound to protect. Shane hadn’t asked for Melissa to go; hadn’t dared. She knew he wouldn’t try to part the girl from her parents and for that she respected him, even as she glared daggers at him. Amy was not going.
“We’ll keep her safe,” Sam retorted coldly. “If you want to go, that’s your prerogative. We won’t be after keeping you or the baby
here against your will.”
“And I appreciate it,” Shane said. He was already anxious to get moving, but he hesitated, looking at Amy. “I wish you’d reconsider. Both Ray and Bill said things that make me think staying here is about your worst option.”
At the mention of Ray the tears threatened again, but Amy shook her head adamantly and ruthlessly dammed them up. “I’m staying with my family,” she said softly. “Without them I was lost. At least with them, we can be lost together.” She stood and took his hands as he rose from the couch, intent on packing. “I thank you for what you’ve done, Shane. Thank you for getting me here. I’ll never forget it.”
“I hope I don’t regret it.” Shane squeezed her hand to soften his harsh words. “Thank you for letting me stay here while I did,” Shane said to Sam and Laura. “But I’ve got to be moving on.”
“Will you be all right on your own?” Laura asked. True to her perpetually kind heart, she was concerned for him despite any animosity the previous conversation had brought up in them. She cleaned up the spilled tea and broken mug as Shane replied.
“I will, and I’ll do my best to take care of Leila,” he said. “I don’t know much about parenting, but I’m hoping I can do what’s right by her.”
Leila, who’d been sitting in one of Melissa’s baby chairs that Laura had procured from the attic, happily watching the conversation as it spun out, lifted her arms to Shane as he moved toward her. Almost like she knew, he thought. Like she knew he was it for her in this world now. He’d saved her, and now he was responsible for her. The thought heartened him more than he thought it should, softened him more than he thought anything capable.
‘Don’t let me let her down,’ he prayed silently as he lifted the warm little girl into his arms.
“Take the chair,” Laura suggested as she finished cleaning her spill and started on another mug of tea for Amy. “She’ll hate to be in the car seat all the time. In fact, I packed a whole bag of useful stuff I found in the attic from when Mel was Leila’s age. There’s also a bouncy chair, some toys to entertain her, a few blankets and all the baby eating utensils I kept. I don’t know why I stored it all; Sam and I never intended to have any more kids. But it’s good, I suppose.”
She trailed off, and Shane guessed her meaning. It was good for Leila, maybe had been meant for Leila that Laura had saved everything of Melissa’s, from the sentimental to the cutlery. Shane saw that the baby supplies were already waiting at one end of the couch, neatly stacked, bagged and organized, as though Laura had known all along that Shane would be leaving them, and soon.
“I also put some baby books in there, and I wrote up a list of my own suggestions for her,” Laura admitted, and she looked slightly embarrassed by the fact that she had done so. “I just know that you don’t have any kids of your own and you’re pretty much jumping into the pool of fatherhood with no idea how to swim. So I at least tried to provide some water wings.” She laughed a little, and it made Shane like her all the better for it. This, he thought, was a special woman. The Walker family was lucky to have such a unique pillar helping to make up their foundation.
As Laura brought Amy’s new mug of tea over, she smiled gently at Shane. That slightly sad, partially hopeful look said volumes more than anything she’d spoken to him. It was an encouragement, and it was a goodbye.
“I think you’ll do well, Shane. She’s lucky it was you who found her. Thank you for the help you’ve offered. I dearly hope your travels lead you to a safer port in this strange storm.”
“I would’ve been happy to stay here, if I could,” he responded with a quick look toward Trevor. “No hard feeling toward you, bud, but I can’t risk being around whatever’s inside of you. Maybe if it was just me, but…” He trailed off and looked down at the baby in his arms. She was playing with the collar of his jacket, dampening it with her saliva when she happily put it in her mouth and began sucking on the fabric.
Trevor looked forlorn, and Shane felt guilty for being the cause of his dismay. But he knew what Ray had said and he knew what his gut told him. Being around the Walkers would bring him to ruin. And there was Stephanie to think about.
“There’s more you can take,” Sam finally interjected, after thinking on his own that he owed Shane something. The man had tried to help his family, and he was a good guy. Sam held that knowledge with no reservation. Even if he wouldn’t stay, Sam wanted to help him on what was sure to be his dangerous way.
“I appreciate it, Sam, but I don’t want to take from you what’s needed by you and yours.”
“Aw, hell, I’ve collected so much throughout the years some of it will surely go to waste with just us,” Sam replied gruffly. “We’ve already packed the cars with the essentials and still have half of the basement full. Laura can go down with you, pack up some of the things she knows we already have ready to go with us if we find ourselves needing to leave.”
“We want to help, Shane,” Laura added as she put a hand gently on his arm. Leila squirmed and took hold of Laura’s fingers, trying to bring them up to her mouth so she could chew on them. Baby logic was anything close enough should definitely be tasted and gnawed on.
“Better watch out,” Laura cautioned teasingly as Leila got the tip of one finger in her mouth and gummed it gleefully. “This one’s teething. You should get some numbing gel if you can find it. Less than a pea sized drop on the tip of your finger, just rub it along the gums, top and bottom. Otherwise, she’ll probably give you some grief.”
“I don’t know how I’m going to handle a baby like this,” Shane admitted, finally coming to terms with how little he knew about children. Sure, he had his nephews and had always been involved with them, but he had the readily available option to hand the boys back off to his sister, or even his mother, if things got too difficult. Now it was just him and Leila. He would be fully responsible for her and he was scared.
“You’ll handle it and one day in the far future, she’ll be very grateful to you for it. You’ve adopted her, Shane. It’s never too early to start thinking of her as your daughter. Give her everything you’ve got, and you’ll do well.”
Laura led him downstairs as Shane stared in a new light at the little girl in his arms. Laura was right. Leila had no more family. Shane had saved her life; taken her away from a place she likely would have died, scared and alone if not for his interference. He hadn’t helped to give Leila her life, but he had helped to safeguard it. By his choices and his actions, it now fell to him to be her parent. It wasn’t the way he’d imagined himself becoming a father, but already he couldn’t see his life without Leila in it.
They reached the bottom of the stairs and Laura briskly set about the task of collecting useful items for Shane to take with him. He had a van, so she wasn’t at all concerned that he didn’t have room for everything she gathered together. She kept her hands moving, her mind on the chore at hand so that her thoughts wouldn’t return to her father.
They’d been incredibly close, she and Bill, and his loss ached like a gunshot wound in her heart. She knew he was gone, permanently gone. He wouldn’t be fixed, he couldn’t be helped. She’d lost her father in such a horrid way, such an alien way that she wasn’t sure she could navigate the grief properly. Through the whole automatic duty of giving Shane what she thought he needed and what she knew they could spare, she silently wept for the loss, as she had been inwardly weeping ever since Shane entered her home without Bill or Ray beside him.
Shane knew Laura still hurt, and he made her task easier by not asking questions and not objecting to anything she piled on him. She gave him a small stove to cook on, with fuel provided in the form of little metal cans. She explained how to pop the top and light the liquid while she handed him two boxes of waterproof matches and a long-handled lighter, urging him to pick more up as he went along. Fire would be helpful for more than cooking, she noted, and added another box of the matches just in case. She gifted him with several weather-proof blankets, a solar shower that could be hung
over a tree or attached to anything, really, filled with water, and heated by sunlight. Shane thought the solar shower was ingenious and appreciated that she’d given it to him. A variety of food items joined his steadily-growing collection and Laura advised Shane to raid stores and markets for food in the preliminary part of his journey. The MREs would keep, and there was plenty of food around to be commandeered at the present time. Later, when on the move or when times got harder, the MREs would be more useful to him. Though she told him to gather as much water as possible when he stopped to resupply, she gave him a full case. A medical kit, a sewing kit, a small but sturdy axe and a lightweight, metal crowbar finished off his newly fattened inventory.
Shane saw the Walkers were still well-stocked with food, water, fuel, cooking supplies, blankets, clothing, tools, and miscellaneous materials. He was glad Sam had insisted he take some things. He didn’t know what–if anything–Stephanie had gathered up so far. Having these things would be helpful. He was especially grateful for the axe. It comforted him to have something that could be easily used as a weapon.
“Austin and I will help you load up,” Laura said softly as she gathered one load to climb the stairs with. With his free hand, Shane grabbed the large pack of bottled water, which held thirty-five sixteen ounce bottles.
“Thank you for everything, Laura. You didn’t have to do anything for me,” Shane said to her back as they began to climb the stairs. Laura smiled back at him.
“We’re all each other has anymore, Shane,” Laura quoted him quietly. “If that’s not enough reason for us to do for each other, nothing is.”
Warmed by his own words and her use of them, Shane mirrored Laura’s smile as they reached the top of the landing. Austin was there, already prepared to offer his assistance. He took the load from Laura, who turned to walk back downstairs once Shane had cleared the top step.
Out of the Dark: An apocalyptic thriller Page 13