“Okay then. A nearby place without a lot of people. We gather supplies first, and then head to a location we intend to stay for an extended period of time.”
“Which is what we were trying to do here,” Stephanie pointed out.
“It isn’t good enough,” Shane insisted. “It’s too close to people, most notably the Walkers. We have to figure out a different place, Steph.”
When she frowned, he reached out a hand in invitation. She took it, and he squeezed hers hard.
“It isn’t a coincidence that the text got through or that I was able to find you,” he told her. “We have to keep each other safe now and I’m telling you, I know that it isn’t safe here.”
Stephanie hesitated and looked at Darcy. Though they’d only known each other a short time, they had the bond of sisters now, a bond developed by people who survived a tragedy together. The bond was stronger than a person who never experienced such trauma could even imagine. Stephanie looked to Darcy for confirmation, and when Darcy nodded, Stephanie was convinced.
“All right, then,” Darcy said. “Where do we go?”
They decided to raid the surrounding area for supplies before resting for the night and then set out early the next morning. Shane wanted to find a map of the nearby cities that would give him some ideas as to the best place they could hole up. He wanted somewhere away from people, but that meant they’d need to have plenty of supplies before they got there. There were two vehicles (a small car, and another ‘soccer mom’ type van with keys inside both of them) in the parking lot that didn’t belong to Shane, Darcy or Stephanie. They agreed it was a good idea to have one adult each drive. They would fill the vehicles to the brims and hope for the best.
Shane didn’t like it. There were too many ways for that plan to go south, and quickly.
“A warehouse,” Darcy suggested as they entered their second pharmacy of the day. No one responded to her suggestion, but she felt certain Shane would mull it over for a while and get back to her on it. She continued to search for things they needed.
Darcy had Dylan strapped in a carrier that affixed to the front of her body and Shane occasionally glanced at the boy and smiled at how cute he was in his floppy hat, snowsuit, and oversized gloves. Stephanie had Leila in a similar set up, though Leila snuggled against Stephanie’s body and did not face outward like Dylan. Shane smiled even wider when he looked at Stephanie and the bitty girl he’d rescued. When she caught him smiling at her, she smiled back. Except for the whole world ending thing, Stephanie felt happier and more in her place than she ever had.
She followed Darcy through the aisles, each of them pushing a cart with a baby strapped to their fronts. If the mood wasn’t so bleak, and if her heart didn’t trip a little thinking they were about to encounter one horror after another around each corner, she’d make some kind of mom’s club joke. As it was, she simply gripped her knife tighter and grabbed things that Darcy suggested should go into her cart.
When they reached the personal care aisle, Stephanie added deodorant, tooth and hair care products, condoms (just in case), and hair removal cream. Darcy didn’t comment on the condoms, but she had to say something about the last item.
“You really need that?” she asked curiously as she tipped her head toward the hair removal cream.
Stephanie tossed her loose blond mane back in a saucy move that Darcy assumed precipitated every rebuttal she made regarding an issue she considered self-explanatory.
“There are three things a woman always needs to do. We should always be self-sufficient, clean-shaven, and wearing cute underwear.”
“Do I want to ask why?” Darcy asked as she added a copious amount of vitamins and bottles of supplements to her own cart.
“Well, there’s always a chance of a hot, unexpected hookup, rape, being cut out of your clothes by paramedics, or being abducted by aliens.”
Darcy scoffed at that, but quickly cleared her throat to cover the sound. “And are those listed in order or preference or probability of occurrence?” She tried to keep the sarcasm out of her tone.
“Likelihood,” Stephanie replied in a nonchalant tone as she observed which bottled supplements Darcy grabbed. She never would have thought about that and decided it was a good idea. “Anyway, it’s what I live by.”
“It’s an interesting philosophy,” Darcy responded, and softened any hard feelings that could have been generated in the exchange with a wide smile.
All in all, they gathered all the food, water, baby items, and miscellaneous materials they thought they’d need and have enough space to transport. Shane thought what ended up in his van, Darcy’s car, and the big silver truck Stephanie had managed to commandeer the keys for would last them a year or more. In reality, he knew they had enough for a few weeks or a month at most.
“The sun goes down so fast,” Stephanie observed anxiously as they stood beside the vehicles, taking stock of what they’d gathered.
“We’ll stay in the main building tonight,” Shane said as he stroked Leila’s chilly face. Her happy demeanor contrasted against Dylan’s fussy behavior. Shane wanted them both inside and out of the cold. He felt amazed at how quickly overwhelming love and concern for the baby girl had filled him. It was as though she’d always been his own.
“Top floor might be best,” Darcy said as she locked her vehicle and made soothing sounds to Dylan while stroking his cheek. “We can block off the staircase on top of locking the doors.”
“Good idea,” Shane agreed. “Let’s get to it. We’re losing daylight.”
It took them thirty minutes to set up the top floor in a way they all found acceptable.
Darcy nursed Dylan, and the boy nuzzled up against his mother like he never wanted to be anywhere else. He clutched her shirt and made happy sighing sounds as he suckled.
“This may be out of line,” Shane began as he piled extra blankets on the bed Stephanie had claimed as hers. They’d pulled three of the four beds on the top floor into the main room and had used the two couches to block off the staircase.
“What?” Darcy asked, not looking up from her son as she nursed him. She was enraptured by his sweet face, now more than ever, but she still paid attention to Shane as he spoke.
“Well, could you do that for Leila?” he asked hesitantly, causing Darcy to look up with a start, obviously shocked at the question. “I mean, if her formula ran out,” he continued quickly.
Darcy instinctively drew Dylan closer to her and the boy made an indignant sound as his nose got pressed into her breast and momentarily cut off his air supply. She stopped squeezing him so tightly almost immediately and a frown drew her pretty features downward.
“I guess…” she responded. “Like, if it was absolutely necessary. We picked up a lot of formula, though. It should last several months, at least.”
It had been their first priority, baby food. The van Shane drove was packed full of jars, canisters, pouches, and plastic containers that included organic food for the young children to eat. There was a variety of fruits, veggies, and meats that wouldn’t expire for at least a year.
The second focus had been child necessities beyond food: diapers, wipes, creams, clothing, blankets, and medicines. They’d stopped at three pharmacies and had specifically lifted a cream Darcy said she needed for Dylan called Silver Sulfadiazine. It was for second and third degree burns and Darcy had explained that Dylan had been diagnosed with a rare kind of rash due to his fair, sensitive skin that was more like a blistering burn. It had taken months to eradicate and Darcy always kept at least one jar on her person in case of flare ups. She now had as much as the pharmacies had been in possession of, and had mentioned that since they probably couldn’t go to a hospital in the event of severe issues like a burn, the cream would come in handy for many more reasons than Dylan’s rash.
They’d also grabbed infant Motrin, Tylenol, vitamin D drops, nasal saline spray, and other miscellaneous items she thought the babies might need. Shane had given her ultimate say in the
supplies needed for the babies, because she was the only mother in the group.
Their next task had been to get as much food and water as they could, and ways to prepare meals. They’d even gotten clothing and bedding for the kids and adults, plus three air mattresses still in their boxes and a couple of pumps to go with them. Shane thought they appeared set; knew the chances were laughably high that he was completely wrong. The bedding, one of the inflatable air mattresses, and all their miscellaneous items had gone into Stephanie’s vehicle. Shane and Darcy each had a mattress of their own in their vehicles and also carried one machine apiece to help with the inflation. Things needed for the children, as well as medicine for adults and most of the food, had been split between Shane and Darcy to haul.
If they got separated, each vehicle was packed in order to be able to sustain the driver and his or her dependent until they could find a way to safely procure more supplies. Shane hated to think that way but he didn’t want any of them to be on their own with only the clothing and bedding, or to have someone hauling all the food lose their vehicle or the ability to drive it.
“Well, I just wanted it out there,” Shane finished lamely as he looked out the window. The dark had swallowed the world. “Turn off the lights and draw the shades,” he suggested to Stephanie as he took Leila from her. “We don’t want to draw attention. Light some candles, but keep them low.”
There were three windows upstairs, and doors to three bedrooms and a windowless bathroom to close. One of the bedrooms hadn’t had its bed moved, as the other rooms had had between them two twin beds and one queen. The beds all rolled on easily-turning wheels and were kept together–mattress, box spring, and frame–as they were moved into the room the group would share for the night.
They’d checked the closet of the room they’d left the bed in and found it empty. Confident that they were safe for the night, they shut themselves up in the single room and settled down to sleep. As soon as morning came, they’d be off.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Darcy slept with both the babies snuggled against her, one propped on either arm. She’d slept with Dylan in her bed when he was sick or feeling lonely, even though she’d heard and read it was a bad habit and would spoil him. She’d figured to hell with that. She liked feeling him breathe. She liked him cuddling up to her and she liked being available for instant soothing if he woke up with nightmares. Plus, it gave her such an ease of access for breastfeeding that she at times worried it was more she than Dylan who had developed the dependence on co-sleeping.
She drifted in and out of dreams. She was always slightly on alert when Dylan slept with her; now it was more than doubled by the situation and the addition of the second little one.
She dreamed of her past; of Dylan’s father, of all things. Dylan looked almost nothing like the man who’d donated genetic material to father him, and Darcy was starting to forget his features. That night, though, in her dreams she saw him as clearly as the day they’d met. He was as attractive and funny as he had been; sun in his hair and laughter on his lips. They embraced, they loved and in her dreams, it was deeper and more passionate than it had ever truly been between them. In her dreams, she was blissful in the illusion she’d never even tried to believe.
In waking life, she gave a soft, distressed moan that made Shane turn from his perch at the window to check on her. She quieted by the time he looked and seeing her and the babies snuggled together gave him reassurance.
The night was quiet.
As Shane watched the outside world and the other slept, the door to the room that had kept its bed swung soundlessly open.
The girl who had been hiding beneath the bed was corrupted. She was inhumanly thin and pale. Shane and the others hadn’t even thought to check under that bed because it was so close to the floor. She gained some plumping of limbs as she slithered across the floor but she still maintained the form of a gangly, emaciated specter, with sunken, white, soulless eyes and limpid hanging hair of the same cataract shade.
Shane wasn’t looking for threats from the inside; he didn’t even hear the corrupted as it snuck on hands and knees into the communal space. It didn’t recognize the people in the room as human beings, but simply as the most attractive form of food: uncorrupted prey. And it was starving.
The bed closest to it had a woman sleeping alone but the prey that drew it was on the other bed. It crept around the one nearest it, and then slid soundlessly beneath the bed with the woman and two babies.
Shane stared out the window. He’d heard gunshots once, seen something against the horizon that could have been fire. He’d also heard the echoes of terrible screams pealing through the darkness. None of the noises had awakened the others, and he was glad. It’d be time soon enough for Stephanie’s shift.
He’d heard a shuffling sound and attributed it to one of the girls or babies moving in sleep and didn’t turn around.
The corrupted reached a hand up from under the bed toward the baby girl. It didn’t have a preference for the gender. The girl was just the furthest away from the man who was awake. The twisted, tined fingers twitched with excitement. The female was asleep–deeply asleep, it seemed–and her arm was so loose around the infant. The corrupted knew it could ease the bundle of flesh and breath and sweetness from the female if it just went slow, so slow, so slow…
Darcy awakened with a jolt but out of habit kept stone still so she wouldn’t roll on or accidentally hurt Dylan.
Not knowing at first what had awakened her, Darcy felt the weight of both sleeping babies against her arms. She didn’t attribute her surge into alarmed wakefulness to either of them; in her experience, a baby didn’t just shift slightly in sleep. Usually, if Dylan moved, he was awake for the next thirty minutes and required soothing and song to return to slumber.
Out of the corner of her eye, Darcy saw something incredibly white against the general darkness of the room. Long, thin fingers twitched hungrily toward Leila, and Darcy felt them as they just barely brushed her arm.
Without needing further incentive to act, she in a quick and continuous set of movements clutched Leila and Dylan tightly, angled them for their best safety, and rolled all of them off the bed, away from whatever was next to her while screaming for Shane to look and Stephanie to wake up.
Stephanie was instantly alert after hearing Darcy’s yells for help. Though she’d previously been a heavy sleeper, the emergency situation seemed to have altered her entire sleep personality. Not only was she a light sleeper now, she was no longer groggy on awakening. She jumped out of bed with no bleariness in his mind or eyes and looked toward where Darcy and the babies were.
Shane sprang away from the window, turning around in time to see the gruesome-looking corrupted fling the bed away as though it wasn’t a queen sized mattress and box spring on a metal, wheeled frame but simply a pillow fort to be knocked down and out of its way. It looked too thin for such strength; too thin to even be alive, for sure. But Shane had seen stranger things of the corrupted, and wasn’t even surprised by its features, frame, or massive strength.
It shrieked, furious to have been found out.
“Where the hell did that thing come from?” Stephanie snapped as she looked around for a weapon. She thought she’d left her hatchet, a recent acquisition, nearby but she couldn’t find it.
“Like it matters,” Shane said back as he tried to move around out of the corrupted’s line of sight. It snarled, looking from Darcy and the now-wailing infants to Shane as he moved toward Stephanie.
Before Stephanie could shout out a warning that the thing was going to charge, it sprang toward Darcy and the babies with its witch-like hands outstretched. Stephanie rushed into action right behind the corrupted, darting across the room so fast she made Darcy breathless. She got the corrupted in a tackle hug from behind and, using both of their forward momentum, changed the thing’s course from Darcy and the kids to the window.
When the glass shattered, Stephanie was sure she was going to go out wit
h the corrupted, but even as she let go of the creature, she felt strong arms lock themselves securely around her waist. Shane pulled her back, and the corrupted plummeted to the pavement a story below them.
Landing on its head and shoulder, the corrupted bounced once on a shrill screech and then laid still. Shane didn’t know if it was dead or not, and really didn’t care because he doubted its ability to get back in, especially with them on alert now.
“Let’s put a table over this window,” Shane suggested, amazed at how shaky his voice was. He hadn’t released Stephanie yet. “And let’s get a look at your dumb ass,” he said to her. “You’ve probably got a pound of glass in you.”
“In my arms, maybe,” she retorted, and her voice was as unsteady as his. “I doubt it’s my ass you’ve got to be looking at.”
Shane laughed shakily and put his forehead against the back of her head, enjoying the smell of her hair.
“You’re insane,” he told her, but finally loosened the death grip he had around her waist.
“Just the way you like it.” Stephanie turned to him with a smile. “Thanks for pulling me back.”
Shane returned the smile as Darcy approached and handed off Leila so Shane could soothe her and Darcy could see to Dylan.
“Thanks for shoving that bitch out,” Darcy said to Stephanie, and then returned to cooing and stroking her son, hoping to return him to sleep.
Stephanie grinned. “Now that was my pleasure,” she declared.
Because both of the other adults were preoccupied with calming babies, Stephanie lugged the table in front of the window and propped it up long-ways. Even if it wouldn’t exactly be a barricade, they’d hear it if it fell and it would block out the light from the candles. Job done, she sat on the bed she was using and by the light of a lantern she switched on, began to address the state of her injuries.
Blood dripped steadily from where she’d met the glass with the backs of her forearms. Her left elbow had a particularly bad cut, and there was indeed a phenomenal amount of glass in her skin. She started meticulously picking it out and placing it on the small end table beside the bed, hissing at the occasional deep pain as she pulled out a piece that was embedded further than the others.
Out of the Dark: An apocalyptic thriller Page 23