A Dark Evolution (Book 2): Deranged

by LaVelle, Jason N.

  She focused on the man holding Dylan and tried not to look at Dylan’s pained, scared face. She watched the man’s eyes, and observed that he looked nervous, maybe even frightened as well. But why? He has the upper hand, doesn’t he? She shifted to the woman holding the rifle. It was hard to tell with the only light coming from the lantern, but she looked scared as well, and the way she held the rifle was not with confidence. Long slow breaths. Kala thought hard, all of their lives depended on her actions here. Were these aggressive militants, or did they stumble upon another family’s hiding place. Were they dangerous or just scared. Sometimes scared can be the most dangerous, she reminded herself.

  Two years ago she had been in a situation similar, yet not, to this. She was in Texas with her father, hunting feral hogs. Hogs aren't like pigs, they're more like an African warthog. They're big, and aggressive. Kala was perched off the ground in a low tree branch, looking through the scope of her AR-15, watching for hogs. It was late evening, there was not a lot of light. Her father spoke quietly in her ear. She pressed her earphone tighter against her ear to listen.

  “Kala bear, there’s a large male a couple hundred yards west of me, heading in your direction. It looks like there are three sows with him.”

  “Okay Dad, you don’t have a shot?” Kala asked as she shifted on the branch. Her heavy camouflage pants were silent and kept her concealed as she looked in the direction he specified.

  “No, I don’t, there’s too much overgrowth here, it wouldn't be a clean shot.”

  Kala nodded. Her father would never shoot unless he could see an animal in its entirety, otherwise it was just too damn easy to have an accident. “That's how hunters get shot,” he told her. “Guy’s been in his blind for six hours and sees movement, thinks it's a deer, and BOOM, someone doesn't come home from deer camp.”

  “I’ve got him,” Kala whispered as she saw a shadow approaching from the northeast. It was a huge male, scraping at the bottom of trees it passed and digging into the ground in spots with its large tusks. There was just enough light left for Kala to make the positive ID. She let him come within a hundred yards of her, to ensure he was clear of the many obstructing trees and brambles. She would have one shot at this. The sows appeared at his side. They would be the easier kill, less aggressive, but he was the real prize. Kala squeezed the rifle tight against her shoulder, her cheek squished into the stock. She breathed, slow and long. The boar's head flicked up in her direction and she fired.

  The bullet burned through the forest at 1600 feet per second. Kala kept the rifle to her face and watched the bullet impact the big boar. She missed its head. Instead the bullet slammed into the boar’s meaty chest and shoulder. The beast roared in pain and rage, rearing up momentarily on its hind legs like a stallion. Then it charged, right at her.

  “Oh shit!” she cried as she tried to track the hog in her scope. He was moving too fast, bouncing all over the place.

  “What? Kala what's happening?” her father’s voice chirped in her ear.

  Kala fired three more rounds but the pig kept coming. “Oh no!” she screamed helplessly as the big boar crashed into the limb she was perched on. She was flung backward, toppling onto the damp leafy earth. The rifle went flying. Kala landed hard on her back, momentarily losing her wind.

  The boar hit the branch again and it snapped, then it was right on her. Kala brought her pistol out and attempted a shot, but the boar smashed into her hand, a huge dirty tusk cracking into the back of her hand, turning it instantly numb and causing her to drop the pistol. She scuttled back, trying to get under another branch but she was no match for the brute. The hog reared up to jab down at her with its tusks.

  Just then a great black blur sprinted in from the east and crashed into the giant boar. It was her father. He linebacker drove the hog with his shoulder, smashing it back against the tree trunk. The hog squealed and thrashed, throwing her dad to the ground. Then Kala saw he had his own pistol out and pointing at the huge hog. The nine millimeter flashed four times in his hand, the roar deafening so close to her ears. Then the hog dropped.

  Over the fire that night, a very shaken Jack Wolfgang talked to his daughter. “Why did he charge you like that, Kala?”

  “Because I didn’t kill him?”

  Jack chuckled, “Well, yes. He charged because he was hurt and scared. There’s nothing more dangerous than a scared animal. They’re unpredictable, paranoid, and don’t act like they normally do.”

  As Kala watched the man and the woman with Dylan, she didn’t see predators, she saw humans that were scared, panicked. The world was ending and they just wanted to hide. She shook her head. “I don’t want to kill these people, but they’re dangerous. Scared animals don’t act right.”

  “God I hope I’m doing the right thing.” She aligned her sights, focusing in on the woman. “Guide my hand Father,” she whispered aloud, and then fired.

  The rifle bucked in her arms, but she kept it tight against her, not taking her eyes off the target, especially with a gun as notoriously unreliable as the AK-47. As soon as the roar of the rifle filled the garage, the man jumped in fear. The woman never had a chance, though. The bullet found its mark, striking the rifle she held right between the barrel and the stock, causing a painful explosion of sparks as the rifle’s firing action was destroyed. The shockwave that shot through the metal following the impact slammed into the woman’s hands and she dropped the rifle, shrieking in pain.

  “Mommy!” Kala heard the boy scream and start running toward her.

  Jesus, he sounded like he was six. The father caught his collar by one hand while his other arm still held Dylan. They were all facing Kala’s window in fear. The woman was clinging to her hand. It hurt, Kala was sure, but she would be fine.

  “I don’t want to hurt you people. But believe me when I say that I will kill every one of you.” The man and woman glanced at each other. “Release my friend immediately.” The man did. Now he had no protection, and no leverage.

  “Come here, Dylan.” Dylan walked nervously toward her, perhaps afraid she would pump one in him just for getting caught. When he approached the window, Kala called out, “Lay down on the floor with your hands behind your back.” They hesitated. “Do not test me. I said I don’t want to hurt you, but I will if I have to.”

  As soon as the people were on the ground, Kala dropped the rifle out of the window to Dylan.

  “Go, cover them, I’ll be right there.” Kala raced through the building, running into Sophie as she did.

  “Can I come out-” Sophie started.

  “No!” Kala shouted as she ran by. When she entered the garage, Dylan was standing over the three with the rifle trained on the man.

  “Put the safety on, Dylan,” she told him. He gave her a questioning look. “Just do it, I don't want anyone getting hurt by accident. Where’s your shotgun?”

  “Over by the entrance to the bus,” he responded guiltily. “They ambushed me when I opened the door.”

  Kala nodded, that was smart. “Is there anyone else on the bus?” she asked. The man shook his head, the woman said nothing.

  “I have to go potty,” the boy said weakly.

  “You can go in a minute,” Kala answered. She hustled around the bus and found Dylan’s shotgun. She checked that it was loaded and not compromised, then swiftly ascended the bus steps. She swept through the bus in sixty seconds, clearing every seat. There was a lot of trash and scattered clothing, but no more people, nothing hidden. She let out a breath. Thank god for that. Kala opened the back door of the bus and jumped to the ground, chuckling as she did. She had always wanted to open the back of one of her school busses.

  Kala glanced around the garage. Sophie was coming out of the office. Of course she was.

  “Who are those people, Kala?” she asked, and startled Dylan.

  “Those are our new friends, honey,” Kala answered to another strange look from Dylan.

  “They attacked me, Kala.”

  “They were scare
d, and you look fine.”

  Sophie came to stand next to Dylan.

  “Get up, you three. Mom, take your boy to the bathroom.”

  The mom started to answer, “There’s a guy in -”

  “The zombie that was in there is dead. You get up too, dad.” He shuffled into a sitting position.

  “Now,” Kala said, “we’re aren’t going to have any more BS, are we?”

  The man shook his head softly.

  “What’s BS?” Sophie asked. Dylan chuckled and Kala shook her head.

  When the woman came back from the bathroom with her son, Kala sat down cross-legged near them.

  “How long have you folks been here?” she asked.

  They were both dirty, and their clothes looked like they had seen many days without a washing machine. The woman’s hair was yellow and hung in thick matted locks, which she may or may not have given up on brushing. Her face was pretty, soft white cheeks and blue eyes, but it sagged with the weight of defeat.

  “We’ve been here for a week,” the woman answered in a hoarse voice.

  She’s sick, Kala thought, and not having any kind of sanitation wasn’t helping her.

  “I’m sorry we barged in on your place,” Kala said. “It wasn’t our intention to scare you or hurt you.” She looked from the woman to the man, making sure to meet them each in the eye. “We don’t want to take your spot either,” she continued. “We’ve been driving all night and needed a safe place to sleep.”

  Dylan continued to pace behind her, and Sophie scooted over towards the young boy on her bottom. She sat up next to him and leaned against him a little. The girl was desperate for someone her own age to play with. The boy smiled at her.

  “I’m Sophie!” she said, her little braids bouncing with an excitement of their own.

  “I’m Devon,” he responded sheepishly. Then he removed his hat, and a shock of messy yellow hair fell out, falling to the tops of his ears. “I like your hair,” he said, and poked at one of her braids. Sophie giggled.

  “Would you mind if we stayed here tonight? We’ll leave first thing in the morning,” Kala directed her attention to the man.

  He rubbed his hand over a greasy forehead. He looked surprised to be given some kind of choice in the matter. His hair might have once been brown, but it had a great many grey hairs infused into it. It was cut short, and it looked like he had done the cutting himself. The man looked over to his wife, who shrugged at him. “Yeah, that’s fine, I guess.”

  Kala nodded. “Thank you. We’ll stay in the office, then you’ll have some privacy.”

  Kala stood, but Dylan was still staring at the trio uncomfortably. She placed a calming hand on his chest, and felt his rapid heartbeat. “It will be okay,” she murmured to him.

  Finally, he let out a sigh, and relented, lowering the shotgun and calling to Sophie. “Come on, Sophie, it’s time for bed.”

  “But I don't wanna go to bed!” she whined.

  Kala went over and took her by the hand, helping her up. “Come on, honey. Maybe you and Devon can play in the morning.” Sophie begrudgingly complied, and followed Dylan into the office. Kala stayed behind and took their important belongings out of the car, including the keys. She dropped their things off in the office and came back to find the family getting to their feet, and talking in low voices.

  “Here,” Kala said, and held out a large pistol to the man.

  “What’s this?” he said with surprise in his voice and on his face.

  “It’s a gun,” Kala quipped. The woman chuckled softly. Kala grinned. “It’s a muzzleloader pistol. It has one keg of gunpowder and one fifty caliber slug. If one of those things gets in here, fire this, but hold on, it kicks like an angry horse.”

  “But - what if there’s more than one?” the woman asked.

  Kala grinned. “We may be roomies for the night, but I don’t trust you with more than one bullet - at least not yet. You fire that cannon and we’ll come running.”

  The woman frowned.

  “I promise,” Kala added. Then she knelt down and held out her hand to Devon. “It was nice to meet you, Devon,” she said with a smile.

  The boy took her hand softly and smiled.

  Kala stood and walked away. Exhaustion was finally crashing in on her. After the long drive, she had already felt like the living dead. Now the adrenaline rush that had pounded through her was waning and her body threatened to fall over. She locked the office door behind her when she went in and let out a long breath.

  “Are you sure that was a good idea?” Dylan asked as soon as she came in. His eyes were a little angry, but moreover, she saw concern in them. He was worried for them, for his sister. Kala only repeated what she said earlier.

  “It’s going to be okay, Dylan. I’ve got a good feeling about them, and that’s saying something.”

  Dylan still looked frustrated, but then Sophie was bouncing up beside them again, searching her brother’s face for what might be bothering him. He smiled at her and handed Kala the shotgun, then picked her up. “Let’s go find a soft spot to sleep, huh, Sophie?”

  “Can I join you two tonight?” Kala asked. Sophie nodded vehemently. That night they curled up on the short carpet in the breakroom, Sophie curled up against Dylan, and Kala laying on her other side, curled up against the little girl. It felt almost like home. What a strange thought, since this is as far from home as possible. Still, the warmth of the three of them and Sophie's little body reminded her of the family she lost.

  *****

  “Come on, hand me the corner, Lukie,” Kala said. She was on her hands and knees in the living room, covered by a thick fuzzy blanket.

  “I’m trying, it’s hard!” Lukie struggled to haul the corner of the blanket across the shaggy carpet; friction made it difficult to move.

  “I’m suffocating in here Lukie, hurry!”

  “You are not suffocating!” he huffed in response. Kala chuckled and a moment later Lukie tripped over the blanket and tumbled over her back. She flattened to the floor with an oof, with Lukie and the blankets tangled on top of her.

  “That didn’t go like we planned, huh?” Kala said.

  Lukie giggled and rolled off her, disentangling himself from the blankets.

  “Here you go. Here’s your end,” he said, out of breath, handing her one corner of the fuzzy, tiger-print blanket. Kala snatched the end from him and knocked him over, back into the pile. He kept giggling, his high boyish voice cracking through the space. It made her smile. The perpetual child, her brother. Luke had symptoms of Asperger Syndrome that had been present since his infancy. This caused his brain to function differently than most people, and socializing was especially challenging, but Kala could not imagine a more perfect brother. He was exceedingly kind, and terribly bright.

  Kala hauled the corner of the blanket over to the gas fireplace in the wall.

  “Hey, help me with the doors, will ya? I always pinch my fingers,” she said.

  “That’s because you don’t do it right,” Lukie answered, and crawled over to the fireplace, pulling open the folding glass doors. “Shove it in there!”

  Kala stretched the blanket over into the fireplace. “Now Lukie! Engage the locking mechanisms!” she told him excitedly.

  “Yes, ma’am!” Lukie cried happily, and slammed the fireplace door shut, pinning the corner of the blanket inside.

  “We’ve done it!” Kala declared delightedly, more from the joyous expression on Lukie’s face than anything else.

  “Yes!” Lukie exclaimed, looking out over their kingdom. “Now we prepare for battle!” Kala laughed and grabbed his hand, then dragged him down under the blanket, where they army-crawled under the fort of fabric to the other side of the living room. They had stretched their three couch blankets across the room, attaching them to lamps, the fireplace, and stuffed into the crease on their father’s recliner. Now they had a proper fort to do battle in. As Kala reached the far side of the tent and daylight entered from the other side, Lukie
wriggled on ahead of her, his bare feet wiggling against the carpet.

  Kala followed him out, to where their soldiers awaited in neat, long rows outside the blanket fort. Lukie started gathering up the figurines, preparing to set them up inside the blanket tent.

  “So who do you want to be this time, the storm troopers?” Kala asked, mirth in her tone.

  Lukie huffed, “Of course not, Kala! You’re always the storm troopers! You know I’m the Jedi!”

  “Are you sure? I’ve got you outnumbered at least twenty to one, you won’t stand a chance.”

  “Ten to one, and it doesn’t matter, you can’t defeat the Jedi!” He gave her an incredulous look as he started to shuffle back to her with his soldiers.

  “But why?”

  “Because I’m the hero!” he answered indignantly.

  Kala smiled as he made his way back into the fort. He would set up on the far side, hoping to ambush her imperial troops as they advanced. It didn’t matter how badly outnumbered or injured his Jedi became, they would fight for him, fiercely and loyally. And he would win, of course, because he was the hero.

  *****

  “Thank god for water towers,” Kala mumbled to herself. She held the mop bucket under the faucet in the utility room, filling it with cool, clean water. The mop bucket wasn’t pristine, but for her purposes, it would have to do. She located a roll of paper towel, and then rolled the bucket out to the garage, with Sophie and Dylan by her side. Kala wore a pistol in her waistband and Dylan had a large knife at his hip. Otherwise, they were unarmed. They were trying to show a front of friendliness this morning.

  The garage was quiet when they entered, with shards of light creeping in from around the bay doors and from the small block windows near the ceiling. As soon as they came in, a small voice shouted inside the bus and Devon came barreling out toward them. His mother was close behind, shouting for him to wait. Devon paid her no mind, however, and shot like an arrow toward Sophie.