The Dark Trilogy 02 - Into the Dark

by Patrick D'orazio

  “Over there,” Jeff whispered.

  He adjusted, shifting their angle of movement. Ray hopped, nearly stumbling, but Jeff supported him until he regained his balance. They moved over to a building on their right, the one with the long green awning they had passed earlier. The front door was still shut, which was a good sign, and Jeff headed for the building, hoping no one was inside.

  The building had definitely seen better days. Shaped like a T, it was fairly narrow at the front, perhaps fifteen feet wide, with the door in the center underneath the awning. It went back about fifty feet before the two wings spread out to both sides. Someone had used its walls for target practice. Smears of dried red liquid ran down from the bullet holes, making it look like the building was weeping blood. As they moved closer, Jeff saw a bright red ‘X’ spray-painted on the door. It was as crimson as blood, but had a high gloss to it and reflected the sunlight.

  Their journey from the general store parking lot to the doorway of the building had taken just a few minutes, but felt like an eternity to Jeff. After testing the door to confirm that it was locked, he gingerly slid Ray off of his shoulder and eased him to the ground in front of it, propping him against the wall.

  “I am not leaving you,” Jeff’s said in response to Ray’s unspoken question. The tears were already beginning again as the teen shook his head in protest.

  Ray slammed his head against the door. “Please,” was all he said as he dropped the gun in his lap and lifted his bloodstained hands to cover his face.

  Jeff bit his lip. There was no time to comfort the boy. Instead, he shoved his hand into his pocket and dumped the remaining shotgun shells into Ray’s lap next to the Beretta. Ray moved his fingers away from his eyes to see what he was doing, and Jeff shoved the shotgun at him then knelt down and picked up the nine millimeter.

  “Reload the shotgun for me, okay? When I’m done with this, we’ll trade.”

  As he stared at the pimply-faced boy, Jeff could see that Ray’s brown eyes were getting cloudy. His breathing was shallow and sounded like there was a gallon of mucus trying to work its way into his mouth from his throat.

  Ray nodded and raised his arms, taking hold of the proffered shotgun. Jeff turned away as he saw Ray grab one of the shells and surveyed the street. The handgun felt as light as a feather compared to the other weapon. Though his vision was cut off by the front of the building to his left, he could see several persistent forms creeping into view. He moved away from the doorway and into the small parking lot.

  “What are you doing?”

  He ignored Ray as he picked his first target.

  “Over here, assholes!”

  Some of the rotting forms had spotted Ray and were moving in his direction before Jeff spoke. He drew their attention back to him and braced his arm to prepare for his first shot. The weapon kicked, but compared to the shotgun, it was nothing. The bullet traveled fifteen feet and punched a hole through the jaw of an armless stiff. It flopped to the ground, immobile. The empty cartridge shot clear of the weapon and bounced off the hardtop as Jeff took aim again.

  He moved back slightly, pulling the trigger and nailing a short-order cook wearing a grungy white apron. Arms that were riddled with tattoos did a little pinwheeling dance as the shot blew off the back of the heavyset man’s skull.

  Jeff lined up a shot on a mailman. There were already three bloody bullet holes in the rotter’s chest, and several fingers were missing from the thing’s hand. Jeff could also see that one of his kneecaps had been shattered, and there was a groove above one of the courier’s ears that creased his scalp. Dry, crusted pus leaked out of the wound.

  “Jesus, pal, I almost feel sorry for you.”

  Jeff took careful aim and pulled the trigger, clipping the mailman in the shoulder. Grumbling, he aimed again, and his second shot went wide.

  “Fuck!”

  As he tried to steady himself, Jeff wondered if the bastard were charmed or something. His next shot put that fearful notion to rest as it tunneled through the postman’s forehead and knocked him to the ground.

  For about a minute, Jeff had the ghouls confused. He would dart in one direction and then quickly move in another before lining up his next shot. But for every stiff he brought down, there were ten more behind it… and twenty more behind those.

  “What the hell are you doing, Jeff?”

  Ray couldn’t decipher what Jeff was thinking, but his best guess was that the man had flipped his lid.

  Jeff responded by picking off two more pus bags in rapid succession. The slide locked back on the gun, and he yelled, “Out!” as he scurried over to Ray and swapped the overheated Beretta for the shotgun.

  Ray didn’t let go immediately. He looked up, his eyes full of confusion as he resisted Jeff’s attempt to pull the weapon away. Jeff sighed and looked over his shoulder to be sure he had a few seconds, then stared down at Ray, exasperated.

  “Listen, I don’t plan on just standing here so a whole shitload of those bastards can gangbang us. When I move, they follow me, and if I’m careful, they don’t bunch up.” Jeff looked over his shoulder at the approaching crowd again and then turned back to Ray. “Now let go of the damn shotgun.”

  Ray relinquished his grip on the Mossberg. Jeff moved back out to the street, whooping and hollering to regain as much attention as he could. Ray shook his head as he reached for the last clip and slid it into the Beretta. He racked the first bullet and watched as Jeff danced in front of his audience once again. Quivering, the teenager turned the gun around until the barrel was pointed at his face. He shivered as a whimper escaped his throat, but did not slide his finger into the trigger guard. He would wait a little longer… just a little bit longer.

  Jeff looked around and knew there were too many stiffs to hold off. The swarms of creatures coming for them were stumbling over the bodies he had already laid out and would overwhelm him and the boy in a matter of moments.

  Tossing a quick glance over his shoulder, Jeff tried to spot where his minivan had been parked. He had no delusions that it was still there or that it would make a difference if it were. Getting Ray back to his feet and moving again was not feasible, and even if it was, he knew they wouldn’t make it ten feet before they were torn to pieces.

  As he pulled the trigger of the shotgun, Jeff tried to refocus on his hopeless task. They had stirred up the whole town. Hell, they had probably stirred up two or three counties with all their gunfire. The dinner bell had been rung, and everyone was coming to get them.

  He fired and took out a little girl plus the adult standing directly behind her. The pellets blew off the top off the girl’s head and neatly sliced the torso of the bigger ghoul in half. As he fired once more, he backpedaled toward Ray. The sound of the shotgun drowned out his thoughts, which were turning toward the seductive possibility of a less painful death for him and the kid.

  He finally turned and ran back to the boy. As Jeff glanced at the teen, he spotted a shadow off to the left, creeping up the side of the building. He clenched his teeth and skidded to a halt next to Ray. There was no time to worry about rotters coming up from behind the building. Not yet at least. Jeff turned back toward the road and saw a blur of motion in front of him.

  It was a young and formerly attractive woman wearing a leather miniskirt and silk blouse moving past the sidewalk toward them. Amazingly, her outfit was fairly clean. Her pantyhose had several runs, but were relatively intact. Somehow, her hair was still pulled back in some sort of scrunchie contraption, though several strands had fought their way free. Jeff pulled the trigger and she hissed at him. He caught a glimpse of her blackened teeth, which—along with the milky eyes—were the only thing that shattered the illusion that she was normal. His shot hit her shoulder and spun her sideways, but she remained standing.

  Knowing he had shot the last shell, Jeff flipped the shotgun around so he could wield it like his baseball bat. It was lopsided and uncomfortable, but would have to do. He was tempted to demand the handgun from Ray b
ut didn’t want to leave the boy unarmed.

  “Nail whatever you can, kid.”

  Ray looked up and saw the woman. Jeff was blocking his chance to shoot at her with the Beretta, so Ray looked for another target. There were plenty to choose from. He raised the gun and gripped it in both hands. The shaking and his blurred vision made things difficult. They would have to be right on top of him before he could do any good. So the dying teenager waited.

  Jeff resisted the urge to turn and see how close the stiffs moving up the sides of the building were getting. The woman he had shot had already recovered and was nearly on top of him. He swung the shotgun in a wide arc toward her head and was tempted to yell out to Ray to watch his back, but instead grunted as the butt of the long gun connected with the woman’s skull. There was no satisfying crack, but she fell to the ground, out of his way. He swung the weapon back around as another pair of hands grabbed for him. One of the new monster's arms blocked his swing, and he could not connect with its head. It stumbled to the side and growled in frustration.

  Jeff crept backwards, ducking from more grasping hands, but one clutched his arm. It felt cold and clammy, and he reacted as if a tarantula had landed on him. Squealing in fright, he jumped backwards, his sweat serving as a lubricant, which allowed him to break free of the compressing hold. He tried to get the shotgun in front of him, but his foot twisted beneath him, and he toppled over.

  That was the opening Ray needed. When Jeff dropped to the ground, the boy finally had a clear target. His shot created a perfect circle under the jaw of the closest rotting figure. The bullet traveled up through the ghoul’s brain and mushroomed, leaving a large exit wound that took out the top of its skull. Ray gasped as it fell backwards into the arms of another one of the creatures.

  The teen’s next shot targeted a woman in a coverall and utility belt who was already stooping toward him. The shot went wild as she leaned forward and opened her mouth. Ray saw her jagged, broken teeth, but could not raise the gun high enough to point it at them. Her hands were in the way, blocking the gun as they pressed down on his arms. All he could do was desperately fire bullets into her chest. She jittered, but kept pressing down, teeth getting closer. Ray could smell the fetid air that hissed up from her throat as he looked at her wide and excited eyes. He screamed.

  Suddenly, the moaning stopped and a shaft of wood burst from the utility worker’s right eye. There was a small popping sound as its eyeball ruptured. Ray had no time to wonder what had happened as the woman collapsed on top of him. With her no longer grabbing at him, he was able to wriggle his arm free and slide it up against her chin, pushing her away. Her mouth was shut, but her one eye remained open as her body twitched, convincing him she was still alive. The fiery pain in his ankle was all but forgotten as he weakly fought to get out from under her. The boy froze when he saw another ghoul trying to pull her away to get at him.

  All Jeff knew was that he had avoided landing on Ray and needed to get up before another pus bag tackled him. The shotgun had fallen beneath him, and there was no way to reach it. He got to his knees and instantly felt fingers clutching at his hair and his head being wrenched around. Another hand yanked Jeff’s arm backwards as he gagged and tried to twist away.

  There was a jarring motion, and Jeff was knocked sprawling. It felt as if a tank had slammed into him, and there was a sharp pain as a clump of his hair was pulled out by the roots. He tried to tuck and roll, but the breath had been knocked out of him, and all he knew was that someone was screaming nearby.

  “Fuck you! And fuck you too!”

  It was the first time Jeff had heard Ben speak. He watched the giant smash his elbow into another walker trying to attack Ray. There were already three crumpled bodies at his feet as his elbow plowed into the temple of another ghoul, which dropped like a rock, its neck broken. Jeff watched, amazed, as Ben lashed out with a large combat boot that lifted a frail old man off his feet. Its arms flailed, and it landed a few feet in front of Ben.

  Ray was still trying to work his way out from underneath the woman’s corpse when Jeff ran to him, nearly slipping in a puddle of blood. When he got to the teenager, he helped lift the dead body off the boy and saw the arrow that had penetrated the utility worker’s eye.

  “You okay?”

  Ray was looking at Ben, and Jeff’s words did not register. Jeff snapped his fingers in front of Ray’s eyes. “I said, are you okay, kid?”

  Ray nodded, but his eyes never left Ben. Jeff couldn’t resist turning as well to watch the behemoth in action.

  Ben used his bow like a samurai sword, swinging it in a wide arc. It cracked against the skull of one marauder as another tried to jump on him. He was surrounded, but it didn’t seem to faze him, even as one of the infected was somehow able to wrap its arms around his waist and sink its teeth into his overalls. As Ben kicked out at another creature that had gotten too close, he barely paid attention to the biter latched to his hip. It was only after he bowled over two more stiffs that he dealt with the hanger-on. He wrapped his fingers in its wispy hair and, in one fluid motion, snapped its neck. It fell, boneless, to the ground.

  Ben was fast, far faster than Jeff imagined someone his size could be. He turned quickly, not even looking down at where he had been bitten, and moved to Ray. The boy stared at him, tears in his eyes.

  Ben glanced down at the tightly bound wound on Ray’s foot. “How you doing, kiddo?”

  “Ben,” the teen gasped. The relief was palpable on his face as he smiled weakly.

  Ben returned the smile, but his had a tinge of sadness to it. He leaned in and slid one arm underneath Ray’s legs while the other went around his back. “Grab my neck.”

  Ray laid his head against the big man’s shoulder and followed his command. Jeff watched in amazement as the man easily lifted the heavy teenager without so much as a grunt. There were still several arrows in the quiver slung over his shoulder, and Jeff stared down the broad expanse of Ben’s back to where the man had been bitten. There was no blood. Instead, there was a bit of tar-like saliva on the fabric. The tough material Ben wore had not been penetrated.

  Ben looked at Jeff. “Grab my bow and follow me.”

  Jeff nodded, picked up the thick bow, and glanced behind him. The infected were not in awe of Ben like he and Ray were, but the ogre-sized man had knocked enough of them silly that he had given the trio the few seconds they needed to get moving.

  Jeff glanced back at the shotgun and Beretta. Both were empty and useless. He resisted the temptation to pick them up as he took off running, following Ben between the buildings, back the way he had come.

  Almost immediately, Jeff heard a bloodcurdling scream and looked over his shoulder. The crowd was surging forward, bodies tumbling to the ground as more and more plague victims crammed into the narrow gap between the buildings in an effort to reach their prey. Most were hobbled, hindered by physical traumas that slowed but did not deter them. Jeff spotted far faster movement flickering in the depths of the crowd. Something out there was moving at a tremendous speed.

  It dawned on him where he had heard that scream before, and it had happened more than once. The first time was when he was standing on the porch back at his house, looking out over a crowd of corrupted neighbors. He’d heard it again when he’d stepped out of the van to deal with an infected teenage girl in his neighborhood. Also, just before the man who had mauled his own family nearly strangled Jeff after charging across his bedroom.

  Numbing fear threatened to stall Jeff’s efforts to keep up with Ben’s long strides, but another identical scream sliced through the humid air. Jeff needed no more motivation as his heart skipped a beat and his pace increased in a desperate attempt to stay ahead of the crowd.

  Chapter 18

  Jeff wheezed heavily and his legs burned. It felt like there wasn’t enough oxygen in the air as he tried to keep up with the sprinting figure ahead of him. It wasn’t just the running; it was the dodging and darting between buildings that was killing him. That and
the fear that if he lost sight of Ben and tried to go off on his own, it would only be a matter of time before he was overtaken.

  He could barely remember most of the trip, though as they hit the railroad tracks, Jeff knew that they were getting close to their destination.

  “Come on, Jeff! Keep moving; we’re almost home!”

  Jeff wanted to respond, to warn Ben about the screams and what they meant. But the howling of the infected had diminished behind them, and it seemed that, for the moment, they had given themselves some distance from the ravenous creatures chasing them. Perhaps they had lost the screamer along with the rest of the slower-moving infected, but he somehow doubted that. His mouth opened, but he could only gasp for air as he stumbled forward.

  The trees were getting closer, bouncing up and down in Jeff’s field of vision. One of his feet came out from under him, and he fell, his arms windmilling wildly. All he could see was the ground rushing up to meet his face.

  Amazingly, despite the tremendous “ooof” that came out of his mouth and the pain in his palms as they hit the dirt, Jeff scrambled to his feet almost immediately and began moving again.

  When Ben vanished into the trees, Jeff wondered if he could remember exactly where the entrance to their wooded haven was. As he got closer, the small bubble of panic in his stomach grew larger. He had ridden through the entrance in the minivan, but never walked through it. His breathing was harsh, and he imagined all the blood vessels in his body bursting from the strain. He examined the tree line, trying to find where Ben had disappeared, his eyes darting everywhere. It was not until he was right next to the pines that his fear subsided. He sighed and grabbed a low-hanging branch, launching his body into the depths of the wooded glen. What did it matter where the “entrance” was when you could slip through the tightly bunched trees on foot? After a few seconds, when it was certain he could no longer be seen from the field, Jeff leaned against one of the trees and collapsed in exhaustion.