Out of the Dark: An apocalyptic thriller

by Ashlei Hawley

  “This shouldn’t take too long,” Laura told him as she began her descent again. “I’d put Leila back in her car seat to wait for us to be ready. Maybe start the van up so it’ll be warm when she gets in.”

  Nodding to indicate he agreed with Laura’s suggestions, Shane secured Leila in her car seat, where she fell asleep almost immediately. He took the case of water to the van with him as he went to start it up and get the heat going.

  The night still seemed full of threat and warning. He could still sense malevolence in the shadows, almost hear the held breath of those waiting in the dark to attack and rip him open. He tried his best to ignore them, like a man whistling a cheerful tune through a graveyard to keep the ghosts at bay. If the things waiting in the dark to tear his throat out thought he was unaware of their presence, maybe they would leave him be. It was faulty logic, a child’s logic, but it was the best Shane had for the time being. The weight of the axe in his hand was an enormous comfort.

  Four trips with two extra pairs of hands had Shane’s vehicle loaded almost to the brim. He was surprised that with so much room he was nearly completely full up. Having so many supplies for Leila and himself made him feel confident and secure. He wouldn’t be going to Stephanie empty-handed. As before, he could be riding to her rescue. The thought heartened him.

  “I’ve made a list of stores I think have the best chance of having the things you need in the area,” Laura offered as she handed him a spiral notebook. She’d included helpful tips for a baby girl, the list she’d mentioned and other tidbits of knowledge she thought would help Shane. Apparently, she thought to herself, she’d expected him to leave as soon as he’d come to them.

  “Thank you for all of your help,” Shane said genuinely as he pulled her into a hug on impulse.

  Laura embraced him back, feeling like she was losing a friend she’d known all her life instead of a stranger they’d welcomed into their home just that day.

  “You have somewhere to go, someone to find?” she asked him. She was surprised to hear the thickness of tears returned to her voice.

  “I do,” Shane affirmed as they pulled apart. He didn’t elaborate further. Anything Laura knew risked being known by Trevor and Stephanie and anyone she had with her had to be kept safe. Shane would see to it as best he could.

  “Safe journeys, then,” Laura offered, trying to make her voice bright for it. She failed, and backed away as Amy stepped in and wrapped Shane in a tight embrace.

  “You saved my life,” she murmured as they held each other. She truly believed he had, so she pleaded, “Don’t leave.”

  “Let me save it again,” Shane suggested instead, though he knew it was fruitless. “Come with us.”

  Amy backed away and Shane saw the shine of tears. They turned her blue eyes nearly aquamarine; a bright, fevered color that radiated her sorrow.

  “I can’t leave my family,” she said with no small measure of regret. “Be safe, Shane. Keep that baby girl safe.”

  “You know I’ll do my best.”

  Shane extended his goodbyes to Austin, Trevor, Melissa and Sam. The stern-faced man holding his son’s hand hid a concerned, uncertain father losing one of the protectors he’d hoped to procure for his family. Sam wasn’t above admitting the thought of another man had comforted him. When it came to strength, nine times out of ten he would always believe a man was superior to a woman. He wanted strength now, a great and undeniable show of it, but here was Shane, walking away from them. Sam wanted to be angry with him; couldn’t be.

  “We’ll leave a light on if you ever come back this way,” Sam told Shane as the men shook hands.

  “I hope to see you all again,” Shane replied in an earnest voice. “I truly mean that. Keep them safe, Sam.”

  Amy watched as Shane loaded the baby in the backseat. Leila had slept through the goodbyes, and Amy regretted that. She’d wanted to cuddle the infant, inhale her sweet, calming scent. There was nothing better than a baby to stave off sadness and thoughts of darkness.

  When Amy turned away from the window, Sam knew Shane had gotten himself moving without running into any problems. He and Leila were gone, so now it was time to focus on his family once more. Gesturing Austin over to him, Sam thought of what needed to be done before they could sleep. Already more than half the night had been burned away.

  “We need to barricade the doors,” Sam said when everyone was in the living room once more. “After that’s done, you all need to sleep and I’ll take first watch. Let’s get to it.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Shane drove at a slow speed, hoping to keep a slow pace so that Leila would be lulled into dreamland until morning. He didn’t plan on making the motel until this part of the world was good and full of sunlight. The corrupted could move around in the dark, and he didn’t want any of them following him to Stephanie.

  As he drove, Shane thought of her.

  Shane was an EMT and had been for several years. He liked his job; he was good at his job. One of his hardest moments had been when he’d pulled Stephanie into the back of his ambulance, bleeding and badly bruised from a beating she had endured before she’d been violently raped and left for dead.

  Stephanie was a trusting sort. She was sweet and innocent, had a core of goodness that contrasted against her wet dream looks and sex goddess demeanor. Shane had known from the instant they’d met that there was nothing truly depraved or sinful about Stephanie. She was as pure of heart as a child and willing to help anyone in need. She loved people, all people, and couldn’t rightly fit it into her mind and the way she looked at the world that true evil existed.

  Someone had come upon her within an hour of her being left to die, and she had been crawling toward civilization the whole time. There was nothing in Stephanie that had been easy enough to break that would keep her from giving up. She wanted to live, and a combination of her own will, spirit, and fate had seen to it that she had.

  Shane had been in the ambulance that picked her up. He’d never encountered a more beautiful woman, but all he’d seen at the moment had been a wrongly wounded, delicate victim. It wasn’t a guise Stephanie wore well, and she had snapped, bitten, and thrashed against him when he’d picked her up from the side of the road. The woman who’d called about the barely moving form she’d driven by had saved Stephanie’s life, and Shane had helped her begin to repair it from that moment on. Stephanie had never forgotten or lost gratitude for either of them.

  Stephanie healed in her own way, and she had begun to look at life again as she had before her abduction, rape, and attempted murder. Shane had helped with that, and had grown to have a deep affection for her. The longer he knew her, the deeper it became.

  Now, she was in need again. Shane knew where she was and was anxious to get there. The Swan Motel was what she’d said in her message, and a faint memory of the place stirred within him. He knew where it was (though he’d never been there as it was a shady place with a less than savory reputation) and how to get there.

  As he drove, Shane observed the houses on the way, searching for evidence of people within them. He felt alone, desperately so, and he disliked the feeling immensely. The only evidence of life he saw was not the kind of life he wanted to encounter.

  At the doors to some of the homes, what could only be corrupted pounded and clawed, howled and snarled as they tried to force their way inside. Shane told himself he would stop to help if he was alone, but he could not risk Leila. The only thing he could do as he drove slowly by was offer up a prayer that light would find this part of the world before the corrupted were able to tear their way into the hiding places of those not fully taken by the plague of darkness.

  Making metal notes about the stores that surrounded the area he knew was fairly close to The Swan, Shane tried to commit them all to memory. After all, he had nothing better to do as he waited for the sun to rise. As he checked the car clock, he noted that sunrise would be in less than an hour. Silently, he thanked God that the light would soon be on its wa
y.

  There was a mini mart which boasted beer and lotto, pizza, subs, and fresh meats. Shane decided he would probably avoid that one. For one thing, as soon as the power went out the meat would begin to go rancid and start to smell. It would be an atmosphere that would breed disease. For another, booze and gambling were diseases on their own which would call looters of a variety Shane didn’t want to encounter. He felt no regret for marking the mini mart of his mental list.

  Right beside the mini mart was a dollar store, and Shane knew that would be a good place to procure supplies. Not only would there be food, but dollar stores in general carried a variety of home products, clothing, baby supplies, entertainment items, and other random things Shane was certain would be useful. He noted that store at the top of his list for attractive scavenging options.

  At the corner of the road Shane would need to turn down in order to reach The Swan, there was a pharmacy that sat beside a small, privately-owned car dealership. Thinking they could commandeer at least one other vehicle, Shane moved his attention to the pharmacy, which he bumped to the top of the list for businesses they would need to raid for important supplies. Inside would be a stockpile of medication and necessities, from allergy medication and prescription drugs to vitamins and books to help with self-treatment of wounds and ailments.

  And condoms, Shane thought almost off-handedly, and then his skin flamed with embarrassment. It wasn’t that he had sex on the brain, he assured himself, but having them on hand would only be a good thing. People were bound to seek physical comfort with the world gone crazy and without proper treatment facilities and medical professionals, the prospect of a woman getting pregnant and having a baby was terrifying to him. Better to be safe about it, Shane told himself, even if it was a topic that would cause some level of embarrassment and possible wrongly-assumed intentions.

  “Oh, get a grip, man,” Shane urged himself in a disgusted tone. It was just smart. No one would think he was a lech because of it.

  Turning away from the direction he needed in order to get to the motel, Shane saw several fast food joints all lined up together on one side of the road. On the other side were small business. A large old building with a broken sign had once been an auto auction and was now a derelict skeleton, no longer full of cars, people, and supplies but for years just empty rooms and a vacant parking lot.

  There were two gas stations at the next corner, sitting opposite one another and sporting large signs that still flashed their ridiculous prices for fuel in red. They would need to check them out, Shane decided. Not only were there supplies but they would need as much gasoline as they could get.

  He made another pass around the block, driving slowly and monitoring his gas gauge and the area, seeking threats and obstacles. Because it was mostly a business sector, Shane expected there had been very few people around when the Onset hit. This assumption proved correct, as he saw neither evidence of uncorrupted nor those taken half or fully by the blight.

  The sun was rising. Shane could see it coloring the horizon pink and red, streaking across the sky vibrantly. The rosy hue made him feel better, lifted a weighted cloak the darkness had draped around him. He turned back toward The Swan Motel, eager and anxious to see Stephanie. The longer he’d been away, the more he believed he wasn’t going to find her safe at her last known location. The more he’d thought about it, the more he convinced he was that she was either dead or gone.

  He drove more quickly back toward The Swan, hoping with everything in him that he was driving toward Stephanie.

  ----------------------------

  Stephanie McAlister was dreaming. In her dream, she ran. She’d always loved to run. She ran a mile and a half in the morning and the same distance in the evening. She lived to run and in this dream, she would soon be running for her life.

  She was with Benjamin. They’d only been dating about three months, but he was familiar with her home as she was with his. They were in her apartment for the night, watching the news as the world began to unwind.

  “You believe the shit they put on the news these days?” Benny scoffed, and Stephanie shrugged.

  “They aren’t really even saying anything, Benny,” she said softly as she pushed her hair back and continued making the chicken and rice they’d planned to do for dinner. Benny rolled his eyes.

  “It’s what they aren’t saying that’s shit,” Benny said derisively.

  The way Ben talked sometimes made Stephanie feel like he thought she didn’t know anything. It didn’t make her feel terribly incompetent, as it would a woman with less confidence than she had, who had never proven herself as Stephanie had. Stephanie let people, especially men, only as far into her life as she felt safe to do. She lived in an apartment complex to limit the danger of being a woman living alone and she kept a gun on hand wherever she was. Knives were stored on her person and in spots where they were easily available in every part of her small living area.

  She knew Shane would say that she kept idiots close to her because smart people had a better opportunity to hurt her. It wasn’t an idiot who’d taken her hostage, who’d used, hurt, and left her for dead. Smart people were a danger, and Shane was the only intelligent individual she allowed around her. He was her knight in shining armor. He hated guys like Benjamin.

  She flipped the shredded chicken, making sure the oil, spices and teriyaki sauce soaked into every part of it. She loved everything to be flavorful. Cooking was therapeutic. She enjoyed it almost as much as she enjoyed running.

  The rice was adequately browned, so Stephanie added the rest of the ingredients she needed, including water. She needed it to simmer and soften for a while. She capped the pan with its lid, leaving a crack for steam to escape, and returned her attention to the chicken.

  From above, she heard a thud and a crash. She jumped, spilling some of the chicken onto the stove. It sizzled on the burner, and she cleaned it off immediately to keep it from scorching on the coil. She’d been admittedly edgy ever since her experience and nothing escaped her notice that could indicate a potential threat.

  “Baby, do you think you could go check that out?” she asked, putting a feminine note of urgency in her tone that she knew Benny would catch and be at least moderately disgusted by.

  “Oh, come on, Steph,” Ben responded, and he indeed sounded aggravated. “Some asshole’s beating his wife, kids are fucking around. Whatever, right? None of my fucking business.”

  At that time, Stephanie decided she’d be moving on from Benny soon. He wasn’t just an idiot; he was an uncaring shit heap who didn’t give a rat’s ass about his fellow man. Some things were able to be forgiven. Being an unfeeling dick was not on the list of things to be forgiven.

  Another noise, louder and more dangerous-sounding to Stephanie, came from the apartment beside them. The apartments weren’t cheap so the walls weren’t paper thin. Whatever had made the noise–what sounded like a football player tackling an opponent into a wooden table and shattering both the piece of furniture and the unfortunate body of the other person–was loud enough to cause Stephanie some serious concern.

  “Really, Ben?” she snapped as she turned away from the stove. “You’re not going to check that out?”

  When she saw him, the knife she’d used to cut the chicken was in her hand as though she were a magician and had summoned it to her fingers. She’d been a victim before, had seen one of the many faces of evil. She recognized it instantly, on a personal level and an instinctive one. Whatever had happened to Ben in the few moments she had been looking away from him, evil now walked within him.

  “I don’t want to but I will hurt you, Ben,” Stephanie said softly.

  His eyes rolled toward her as she spoke. The previous soft brown (a shade so unique, she’d once thought, like the fur of a fawn) was obscured by cataracts of yellowish white. He’d been blinded in an instant, it seemed, though his eyes mirrored those of a man who’d seen ages pass him by. His nose and mouth spewed blood; darker, thicker blood than they should h
ave and stained his shirt a dirty, red-brown color. His teeth elongated, pressing into his bottom lip and drawing more blood to spill down his face. When he raised his hands toward her, Stephanie saw the skin had peeled away, revealing clean white bone that crackled as he bent his now misshapen fingers.

  “I want to taste you. Inside and out,” Ben declared, and then cackled with psychotic glee. The thing that disturbed Stephanie the most was the fact that even though his body was contorting grotesquely, his voice was perfectly normal, utterly Ben.

  “Come near me and I gut you,” Stephanie warned as she moved slowly away from him, keeping the knife between them while she grabbed her car keys and secured their place around her neck. She always wore her shoes, unless she was showering or sleeping, so she didn’t have to fight to get them on. She was getting to the door and she was getting the hell out.

  One moment she was inching her way toward the door and the next Ben was just there, right next to her. No hesitation bloomed, no doubt was allowed. Stephanie tightened her hold on the blade and drove it hilt-deep into Ben’s neck.

  Scrabbling at the blade, Ben wheezed and bled, stumbling back as he gasped for air. Stephanie kicked him, once in the knee as hard as she could and once in the stomach for good measure. She’d learned self-defense basics and the one move she’d been particularly fond of had been the shattering of a kneecap. Though it had been advised that it was not the attack she should go for right off, Stephanie was partial to the technique. She performed the kick expertly, envisioning her foot going through the flesh as she’d been taught. She heard the pop as she expected, but Ben didn’t go down as she’d thought he would. She aimed another kick at his midsection, again trying to kick through him, not just make contact. Though the blow slowed him, he still didn’t go down.

  As a last resort, Stephanie heaved the old antique cabinet that held all of her best China (passed down from her mother and grandmother) that stood at the end of her island counter in the kitchen. With a pang of regret, she pushed as hard as she could and slammed it down onto Ben. Trapped beneath the enormous weight, he nonetheless continued thrashing and hissing at her. He made a grab at her foot as she passed by him, but she was able to break his grasp easily.