The Darkest Days (Death & Decay Book 0.5)

by R. L. Blalock

  “Thank you.” Wyatt looked around the sally port, unsure how they would ever find a way to free themselves. “We all appreciate the invitation.”

  “I need to get back to Elli. I’m going to shut off the radio to conserve its battery,” Olivia concluded quickly. “Do you mind if I check back in with you later? Maybe around seven tonight? It would be nice to have someone else to talk to now and then.”

  “Sure.” Wyatt smiled. “It’d be nice to have some outside contact. I’ll talk to you again later.”

  Day 2

  5:46 pm

  The conversation with Olivia had spurred the group into action. For the last few hours, ideas had been bouncing around the walls of the sally port. They all quickly agreed that they could not wait until they were too weak from dehydration and hunger to make a move. The squad car that sat in the sally port was the large SWAT SUV. The back contained a small arsenal, along with a handful of various items of protective gear. Stephen and Wyatt had picked through the gear and doled out the weapons amongst the group.

  Shortly thereafter, they had put together a plan. There wasn’t much to it. The sally port was for the most part purposefully bare in the event that a suspect got loose. This unfortunately meant they had access to only a few supplies. Only one final preparation remained.

  Wyatt’s hands trembled as he reached for the bundle of wires that Miranda extended. She was the only one exempt from the draw. Everyone in the room had someone who needed them. Someone they hoped was still alive and fighting. Parents. Children. Spouses. Miranda was the only one who had someone present who depended on her. That took precedence over the loved ones the others hoped to find.

  He pulled the wire from her hand and gripped it tightly. He didn’t have to hold it up to the others to know it was shorter.

  “Well, now that that’s settled.” Wyatt was glad his voice remained deceptively level. “I guess we should gear up and get ready.” His legs threatened to turn to jelly as he stood. The part of the plan that he took on was almost guaranteed to be suicide.

  “Do you mind trading?” he asked Jerry quietly as he offered him the heavy helmet he had received. A long, thick baton sat propped up next to the lanky man.

  “Not at all.” Jerry hefted the two-foot-long weapon and handed it to Wyatt. “Keep the helmet. I have a gun I can use to protect myself. I have no doubt you will need every bit of help you can get.”

  Wyatt’s fingers traced the length of the baton. “Thank you for the shield.” There was a lot he had to do and very little time to do it.

  With a heavy heart, Wyatt sought out Stephen as he tinkered with his duty belt. “I have a favor I need to ask you.”

  “What’s up?”

  “I know it’s been a while since you’ve visited, but do you remember how to get to my house?”

  Stephen didn’t look up as he nodded. He had been over a few times in the summer for barbeques or an occasional backyard bonfire.

  “I need you to promise me that after you get out of here you’ll go check on Sarah and Ben for me.” Wyatt eyes never left Stephen’s face.

  “Why would I need to do that?” He laughed uneasily. “You’ll see them soon enough.”

  “Stephen, you know as well as I do that this is the best plan we have.” He tried to hold his friend’s gaze. “But more than likely if I leave this building I will not be myself. I need to know that someone will make sure Sarah and Ben are alright. That someone will be there to help them through this. Can you do that for me?”

  Stephen focused more intently on adjusting the straps of his vest. “I won’t need to.”

  “Stephen!” Wyatt shook the man’s shoulder angrily. “I know today has been hard, but it’s not over. I need you to hold it together and just promise me this one damn thing. I may not survive.” His words became a desperate plea. “You may not survive either. But I need to know that if I don’t, someone will try to find my family.” Wyatt fought to gain his friend’s eye contact. “I will fight for every last breath I can, but I can’t do it without you.”

  “Do you feel it?” Stephen’s words were so quiet Wyatt was almost unsure he had heard anything at all. “The world is changing.” He turned and looked pointedly at Wyatt. “Things will never be the same.”

  Wyatt swallowed the hard lump that was growing in his throat. “Maybe not.” After a moment, his voice came back with all the confidence he could muster. “But we have to fight. What other choice do we have? It’s fight or die, Stephen. Fight or die. I’m going to fight. What is your choice?”

  For a long while Stephen was silent. Despite the hush that had fallen between them, Wyatt could almost see the thoughts as they roiled through Stephen’s mind. As thoughts only he was privy to finally settled, Stephen nodded to himself.

  “Let’s do this.”

  Wyatt tried not to let the relief show too plainly across his face. “Good. Let’s get everyone ready to go.”

  Day 2

  7:13 pm

  Tension filled every muscle in Wyatt’s body as he stood by the large sally port bay door. The others had already climbed into the back of the black-and-white SUV. Any second now, they would start the car and then it would be up to him to set everything in motion.

  Wyatt sucked in a deep, nervous breath as he adjusted the pack on his back that contained a few of the scarce supplies and hoisted the shield up. The car quietly purred to life and the lights on the back flared on as it was put in reverse. Before he could think, Wyatt swiped his badge and punched the four-digit code.

  With a squeal, the sally port door lurched into motion. Howls echoed against the building from the darkness that seeped under the ascending door. Like apparitions, deformed faces emerged like ghosts from the shadows. The monsters scurried forward as they clamored over each other in an attempt to get under the door.

  Before Wyatt could leap towards the vehicle, one of the deranged reached out and took hold of his ankle. His boot connected squarely with the creature’s jaw, but the thing only tightened its grip on him. With one quick movement, he angled his gun around the shield and dispatched the creature.

  The few precious seconds that had been wasted on the brute had plunged the sally port into anarchy. The monsters swarmed in like a mass of angry bees. Almost instantly, he was pushed back into the corner as they set upon him. The only thing between him and their gnashing teeth was the too-small shield.

  Why haven’t they left yet? Even as he thought the question, he knew the answer. If the plan had gone off without a hitch, he would have opened the door and leapt onto the running boards of the SUV. As soon as they found a safe place, they would stop so he could get inside and take a seat.

  But the plan hadn’t gone perfectly. The monsters had been too quick, and he had been too slow. Now, instead of leaving the instant the floor-to-ceiling sally port door was open, they waited in hopes that he would reach the vehicle.

  He would never be able to reach the vehicle. He was going to die in that corner.

  As each second passed, more of them pushed their way in. If the others didn’t leave soon, the sheer number of bodies would prevent the car from moving.

  With an ear-piercing screech, the vehicle suddenly lurched into motion as it plowed over the bodies in its way. To his own surprise, Wyatt released a sigh of relief and the SUV disappeared out of his field of view. The deranged trailed after it as they lamented the loss of a meal.

  Before Wyatt even realized what he was doing, he lunged forward and slammed into the creatures with the riot shield. The handful that had not relented against him sprawled backward. Instantly, his feet were in motion as he deftly picked his way through the bodies.

  The deranged wailed behind him as he sprinted through the door and out into the world. More creatures than he could have imagined stumbled around the parking lot in front of the station. Determined to leave them behind, he set his sights on the road and the thick, leafy brush on the other side.

  Without warning, the SUV rocked dangerously as it rounded the
corner to the main road. For a moment, it looked as if Stephen had regained control of the vehicle before it suddenly careened off the side of the road. Wyatt’s breath caught in his chest as the front wheels hit the ditch that lined the road. The top-heavy vehicle rolled and landed upside down.

  The shrill wail of the tortured metal only further agitated the deranged. Wyatt dove into some bushes as the mass of monster raced towards the commotion.

  A barrage of shots rang through the air and spurred Wyatt into action. He quickly crawled forward, but shock rooted him to the plant.

  The car was completely obscured from view. The monsters crawled all over it as they sought a way inside.

  Wyatt ran forward, weapon in hand. As quickly as the shots had begun, they ceased. The deranged continued to swarm atop the overturned vehicle. His footsteps quickly slowed and then stopped.

  There was nothing he could do. His friends needed him, but he was only one man. One man against dozens of the deranged.

  Day 3

  4:25 pm

  Sleep had never come. If he was honest with himself, he had never tried to welcome it. During the few sporadic moments when he closed his eyes, the horrors of the day paraded across his eyelids to give him an extra adrenaline boost. Instead, sleep was replaced with brief breaks to rest his weary legs and, occasionally, fill his empty stomach with food from his pack.

  Rather than dwelling on what had happened, he had forced himself forward with the thought of returning to Sarah and Ben. They needed him. He needed them. Only once they were in his arms would the trepidation that had invaded every fiber of his being subside.

  The short distance to the house had become an ever more frustrating journey. Several times he had found his path overrun with the deranged or blocked by destruction. Every second that he hunted for a new path made him more desperate. After two grueling days, though, he was almost home.

  Wyatt surveyed Keystone Court from behind the corner of a house. He fiddled nervously with the baton. It hadn’t taken him long to realize that the bullets wouldn’t last forever and that he needed to preserve the precious few he had left. There were signs that the street had been touched by the deranged, but none of them lingered. Sarah’s van sat in front of the house at the end of the court.

  Despite his exhaustion, every muscle yearned to move. After one final scan of the street, he leapt forward, unable to restrain his excitement any longer.

  But, as Wyatt ran through the cul-de-sac, his blood chilled. A darkened and dried stain marred the pale pavement. Sudden apprehension forced Wyatt to slow his approach.

  His breath hitched as his eyes followed the trail of rust-colored spots. From the stain in the street, they ran to the sidewalk and trailed up the driveway in front of his house. The baton slid easily into its loop and he removed his gun from its holster.

  A neighbor. Wyatt’s thoughts raced as he made his way up the drive. That’s a neighbor’s blood. They came here looking for help. He tried to convince himself that Sarah had not opened the door for anyone.

  With his gun in one hand, Wyatt dug into his pocket and pulled out his keys. The dark-brown color of the door hid more of the gore marks until Wyatt stepped onto the porch. A dried, rust-colored smear coated the doorknob, and another smudge, just above it, had been left behind as the door was pushed open.

  Wyatt gnawed on his lip as he slid the key into the lock and nudged the door open. More of the rusty red blotches tarnished the ivory entryway tiles.

  A large lump that he could not swallow settled in his throat.

  Quietly, he slid through the door and eased it closed behind him. The house remained eerily silent. His heart began to thump wildly in his chest as his thoughts plummeted into turmoil.

  The car was outside. Had Sarah been forced to leave with Ben on foot? Had they been chased out as one of the deranged forced its way in? Had Sarah unknowingly let it in? His heart ached at the thought of his family out among the dangers the city had been plunged into.

  “Sarah!” He knew he shouldn’t call out. Maybe one of the deranged still roamed the house. But he could no longer contain the ever-increasing urge to find his family and find them immediately. His chest felt as though it would explode if he did not find them. “Sarah!”

  In three quick steps, he strode through the entryway and into the living room. The open floor plan allowed him to look over the living room, dining room, and kitchen. All were distressingly devoid of anyone.

  A heap on the couch caught his attention. Wads of red-soaked kitchen towels lay strewn across the stained couch and floor.

  Suddenly, Wyatt couldn’t breathe. There was a lot of blood. Someone had been hurt, badly. Someone else had tried to help them.

  “Sarah!” His calls became desperate as he lunged for the hall that led back to the bedroom.

  A shadow passed the first doorway on the right. Ben’s room. A split second behind the shadow, Sarah nudged open the door.

  “Oh, thank God!” His relief was quickly swept aside as a frightening shriek ripped from her throat.

  She lurched out of the bedroom and into the hallway. The dying evening light that seeped through the windows revealed her true appearance. Her right shoulder was a ragged mess. A few of the fingers on her left hand were bloody stumps. Blood matted her long, mahogany hair into a tangled mess. Her usually fair skin—what wasn’t smeared with gore—was ashen and chalky.

  “No.” The word was barely a whisper. Wyatt could no longer hold back the tidal wave of despair that had threatened to drown him for the past seventy-two hours. Tears streamed down his cheeks as Sarah advanced on him.

  She vaulted the final distance between them. Wyatt stumbled back, unable to make his muscles obey the commands of his brain. Sarah wrapped her arms around him in a vicious, viselike hug. At the last second, Wyatt managed to hook his hand underneath her chin as they collapsed to the floor.

  “Sarah, please stop!” He had seen dozens of others act just this way, and yet he could not do anything other than beg her.

  His wife had never been weak, but now her grip was crushing. It took every ounce of strength in his weary body just to hold her back. But his strength was not endless. While his muscles grew weaker by the second, Sarah only seemed to grow more agitated.

  “Sarah, stop!” A fresh trail of tears trickled down his cheeks as he wrapped his left hand around her slender neck. Despite the fact that her air was almost completely cut off, Sarah struggled as if nothing had changed. Her fingers hooked around his vest as she tried to pull herself closer to him.

  “Honey, please.” Her teeth gnashed just inches from his face. Empty eyes stared back at him.

  Almost against his will, Wyatt brought his gun up and pressed it to the side of Sarah’s head as he had done to others so many times in the past few days. With just the slightest pressure the trigger depressed. Sarah’s head jerked to one side as a bright red mist showered from the other side.

  Suddenly, Sarah stopped thrashing and flopped against Wyatt’s chest. For a moment, all he could do was lie on the floor, pinned by Sarah’s weight, as he listened to the ragged wheeze of his own breathing and the rapid thrum of his heart.

  As his heart and breathing began to slow, he heard a new sound. Irregular and soft. Gently, Wyatt shifted Sarah’s lifeless form to the floor and stood up. The shuffling came from down the hall, in the master bedroom.

  His mind would not allow him to grasp what might be behind that door. Tiny fingers wrapped around the edge of the partially open door. As Ben toddled into the hall, there was no trill of excited laughter, no clapping, no elated dance that usually greeted him when he returned home.

  Instead, Ben opened his mouth and screeched. Even in the shadows, Wyatt could see the boy’s face was covered in blood. His hands were red as though he were wearing mittens. The blood seeped down from his face to stain the tattered remains of his small dinosaur shirt. One of Ben’s shoes was missing, giving him an exaggerated stagger.

  Before Ben could move, Wyatt lunged for
ward, spun the small child around, and scooped him up in his arms. Ben screamed and thrashed as he attempted to twist around to face his father. Wyatt’s strong arms could barely contain the boy.

  A scene from the police station sprung unbidden into Wyatt’s mind. The woman who sat on the floor, her arms wrapped around the small, deranged girl as she begged for the child’s life. Just before the girl ripped her throat out. She is just a child!

  Wyatt squeezed the boy tighter. “I love you, Ben.” Wyatt nuzzled the back of the boy’s head. “Daddy loves you.”

  After one final, tight squeeze Wyatt released him, taking a step back as he did. As Ben stumbled to regain his footing, Wyatt drew his gun with hands that trembled violently. A growl rumbled in the small child’s throat as he finally balanced himself.

  Before Ben could spin around, Wyatt leveled the gun and pulled the trigger. For a moment, Ben stood still. Then suddenly, as though invisible strings had been cut, he crumpled to the floor.