Into The Darkness

by Doug Kelly

  “You’re right; the adults are all looking toward the water.” Dylan shifted his position to view the riverbank near the park. “I see two people. Two men, down by the river. The guy with long hair looks big. He has red hair and a flannel shirt. He’s talking to a guy with short hair, maybe light brown or blonde, wearing a gray shirt. They’re standing by a raft.” Dylan strained his eyes for more detail. The two men moved slightly away from the raft as they talked. “Hey, guys, that looks like my raft down there.” The larger man began jabbing his finger at the other man and appeared to be yelling at him. Dylan adjusted the focus of the binoculars just as the smaller man turned and seemed to be yelling back at the larger man. “It’s him. I can see his face now. That’s Haber down there.” Dylan handed the binoculars back to Kevin.

  “I see him. That’s definitely Haber, and it looks like the guy with the flannel shirt is pissed off. Wait a second…ouch…Sergeant Haber just went flying backwards into the raft. The big guy is walking back to the campground now. Haber is just lying there.”

  “I hope he killed him,” said Richard, nervously.

  “Do you see any weapons?” asked Dylan.

  “No. Have another look around.” Kevin handed the binoculars back to Dylan.

  Dylan watched the man walk back to the RVs and tents. He seemed to be explaining what just happened a moment ago. Another man was slapping him on the back and laughing as the big man spoke to the others. Dylan pointed the binoculars back toward the raft and saw that Haber was gone. He quickly swept the binoculars across the landscape, desperately trying to locate Sergeant Haber. Dylan followed a row of bushes from near the water as it curved up the slope, and he saw Haber moving low behind the bushes toward the stranded campers.

  “There he is. He’s closer to us now. He’s by that row of bushes, making his way to the campsite,” said Dylan, as he pointed toward the shrubbery Sergeant Haber used as concealment. “He has a rifle with him. Looks like an assault rifle.”

  Sergeant Haber positioned himself so that when he walked through the bushes toward the campers, a large concrete outhouse would hide him. Haber got to the concrete building, and stood there with his back to the wall. Dylan watched him chamber a round. Haber moved to the end of the building and peeked around the corner. He was waiting for a chance to make his move. When the other campers gathered around the big man that he had just fought with, Sergeant Haber jumped from behind the building and advanced toward the crowd. The mothers screamed and grabbed their children. He put his rifle barrel into the face of the large man and pointed toward the ground. The man immediately went prone on the dirt. Haber gestured with his rifle toward the large RV and told the others to go inside. Sergeant Haber then flipped a small picnic table over and picked up one end, shoving it under the door handle of the RV and making it impossible to open from inside.

  Dylan laid the binoculars down. “He trapped everyone in the big camper, except the guy that hit him. Something bad is about to happen.”

  “We have to get out of here now, Dylan!” exclaimed Richard.

  “Is he going to kill them?” asked Kevin.

  “He killed a guy back at that other camp. We have to do something. Come on men, think.” Dylan put his face in his hands after he passed the binoculars back to Kevin.

  “He has the guy tied to a chair,” reported Kevin. “Now he has his back to us…he’s poking the guy with the rifle barrel. I can see the guy’s face…he looks terrified.” Kevin watched the sergeant terrorize the man with his rifle.

  The sergeant would occasionally look around, then resume taunting the man tied to the chair. Haber noticed something leaning against the picnic table by the outhouse. He hit the man with the butt of his rifle, then turned and went toward the object. Kevin adjusted the focus and saw that he was walking toward a baseball bat. “He’s going to get that baseball bat by the picnic table.” Kevin handed the binoculars back to Dylan.

  Dylan found Haber again with the binoculars and brought him into focus. He watched Haber lean the rifle against the table and pick up the bat. The sergeant tested the bat’s weight in his hands and swung it around. He looked back at the man tied to the chair and strode directly toward him, leaving the rifle by the picnic table.

  “That’s it. Checkmate, asshole!” Dylan quietly exclaimed, as he tossed the binoculars back to Kevin. Dylan immediately dashed down the hill toward the row of bushes.

  “Oh, shit, what’s he doing?” Richard pleaded.

  Kevin brought the binoculars back up to his face. He watched Dylan as he arrived at the row of bushes and positioned himself so that the concrete outhouse was between him and Haber. He moved silently to the concrete wall, and then sidestepped toward the corner near the table. There it was. He could see the rifle now. It was about six feet away leaning against the table. Dylan’s heart was racing when he leaped from the corner and snatched the rifle. He immediately put the rifle to his shoulder and aimed at the sergeant. The sergeant was facing the restrained man and taunting him with the baseball bat. The man tied to the chair saw Dylan approaching with the rifle and turned his head toward him. As the man’s expression changed from fear to disbelief, Haber spun around and saw Dylan approaching. He immediately noticed that it was his own weapon that Dylan was pointing at his head.

  “Haber…Haber…Haber…a good soldier never abandons his weapon,” said Dylan, sarcastically, looking at the sergeant and shaking his head. “I think I should keep this rifle, Sergeant...I wouldn’t abandon a good rifle…especially if it was my only weapon.” Sergeant Haber froze in disbelief. His eyes were wide and his jaw hung open in absolute shock as he stared at Dylan and the rifle. Keeping his eyes on the sergeant, Dylan waved for his friends to come down from behind the trees. He expected one of them would be watching with the binoculars and knew they would understand the hand signal. “Was I the last person you expected to see alive?” Dylan smirked. “Drop that bat and put your hands on your head.”

  The sergeant dropped the bat and faced Dylan as commanded. “Are you going to kill me?” he asked, without emotion.

  “Get on your knees, asshole!” commanded Dylan.

  The sergeant dropped to his knees and continued to face Dylan. His hands were on top of his head. Dylan could see the look of defeat in his eyes as he walked behind the sergeant and placed the end of the barrel at the back of the defeated man’s skull. The man tied to the chair was trying to scoot the chair back away from the scene, but with little result. Kevin and Richard ran down to Dylan’s location. Kevin had his pistol drawn and told Richard to untie the man.

  Dylan looked at the man in the flannel shirt and asked, “The sergeant wants to know if I’m going to kill him. What do you think?”

  “It’s your rifle,” said the large man, holding his hands up as he took several steps away from Dylan.

  “Fair enough,” said Dylan, as he pressed the rifle harder against the sergeant’s skull. “I will count down from five. Say your prayers, asshole.”

  The sergeant began to cry uncontrollably as Dylan slowly counted down. At zero, Dylan paused for a moment, leaned toward Sergeant Haber’s ear, and yelled, “Bang!” The sergeant began to scream that he was sorry, and tried to beg for forgiveness from everyone.

  Dylan circled around the kneeling sergeant and told him to look up. “I should kill you. You stole my raft, and tried to get us killed in Fort Benton. There’s one thing holding me back.” Dylan took a step away from the sergeant and lowered the rifle. “You’re not worth a bullet.” Dylan kicked the baseball bat to the large man, then walked back to the sergeant who was casting his eyes at the ground in front of his knees. “Look at me, you bastard!” yelled Dylan. The sergeant raised his head. His eyes were red and snot was dripping from his nose. Dylan lifted his right foot and kicked the sergeant hard, right in the center of his chest, sending him several feet backwards. The sergeant landed flat on his back, gasping for air. Dylan instructed Richard to frisk the sergeant for weapons. Richard found nothing and stepped away.

 
; Dylan walked toward the sergeant and nudged him with his boot. He looked down at his contorted face. The sergeant was desperately struggling to breathe, and his broken ribs were not cooperating. “When we were in Fort Benton, someone tried to introduce us to frontier justice. We didn’t stick around for the introduction. I think we’re supposed to thank you for that.” Dylan tested the sergeant’s broken ribs with his boot. The sergeant screamed. “Sergeant Haber, I would like to formally introduce you to my version of frontier justice.”

  Dylan walked toward the barricaded RV. He passed the large man who was holding the baseball bat. “He’s all yours.” Dylan went to the picnic table that was holding the door shut on the RV, and pulled. The table collapsed and Dylan dragged it away from the door. The men inside the RV jumped out of the vehicle and stared at the sergeant, who was writhing on the ground. “He’s all yours now. Do what you want.” The men from the RV immediately ran to the sergeant and dragged him to the river, and the man with the bat followed behind them. Dylan decided not to watch, although he briefly heard the sergeant screaming.

  Dylan, Kevin, and Richard, stood near the RV that the sergeant had held the campers captive in. The men picked up the picnic table and placed it upright on the ground. They discussed what had just happened and felt a sense of relief knowing that the campers had taken care of Sergeant Haber. Realizing that it had just gotten quiet by the riverbank, Dylan glanced in that direction. He saw the men standing there looking down. The large man was still holding the baseball bat, but now he was using it to poke a motionless body sprawled on the ground. Dylan saw them throw the body into the river.

  A young woman holding a sleeping infant came quietly up to the three men sitting at the picnic table, and hesitantly sat at the far end. The men could sense the fear in her as she glanced at their faces. Her hair was long and greasy, and like everyone else, she had not bathed. Her eyes had dark circles around them and were slightly sunken inward. Although it was summer, her skin was pale. She did not appear to be well.

  “Do you know what has happened?” she asked.

  “Yes, ma’am. Something very bad has happened,” Dylan said quietly.

  “Bad?” The woman laughed inappropriately and with glazed eyes, looked past the men. “Do you believe in God?” She stared at them with bloodshot eyes and did not give them a chance to respond to her question. “It’s the rapture. We have been left here to suffer. I will starve to death with my baby. I know this. I saw the angels the morning this happened. My baby was crying, so I woke up and took her outside to rock her. The angels lit up the night sky.” She was speaking loudly and her baby began to cry. Two women overheard what she was saying and came to her side. One of the women took the baby to comfort it and the other put a blanket around the deranged young woman’s shoulders and led her away.

  The men who had taken Sergeant Haber away came back to the campground and the big man in the flannel shirt approached the picnic table where the three men were seated.

  “I saw them take Jane away,” said the man. “She’s been acting strange ever since we’ve been stuck here. Sorry about that. Do you know what happened? We haven’t seen a single vehicle or a plane in the sky, and nothing electric works here. Most everything stopped at once, except for the electric lights in the RVs, but the batteries died because our motors wouldn’t start, and now nothing works.” He leaned the blood- stained bat against the table and sat down.

  “Everywhere we’ve been is bad,” said Richard.

  “Really, really, bad and it’s going to get worse,” Kevin added.

  “What?”

  “Let me try to explain what I think happened,” said Dylan. “There was a massive solar storm and it destroyed tiny electronic circuits and the power grid, too. Nothing with a computer chip works now. People are going to get desperate, like Sergeant Haber, and do stupid things. Most likely, they will hurt other people in their desperation.”

  “Then we are stuck here. Really stuck here,” the man said, fearfully.

  “We decided to head south, to get back home,” said Dylan. “We aren’t looking forward to going through any large cities. Think about how much trouble the sergeant has caused. What if there was a whole gang of people like him, with weapons?"

  “I better tell the others.” The man stood up. “I forgot to thank you for helping me today.” The man extended his hand to shake Dylan’s, and realized it was bloody. He slowly put his hand to his side and rubbed the blood onto his jeans. “I wish there was something we could do for you, but we’ve got nothing. I don’t even know how we’re going to get out of here.”

  Dylan stood up. “You don’t owe me anything. We’re just going to get what was stolen from us and leave, if you don’t mind.”

  The big man buttoned his flannel shirt, thanked them again, and walked away.

  “Let’s go. You two go back upstream, get your rafts, and float down here. I want to check out my raft before we leave.”

  Dylan walked down to the river’s edge. He looked, but did not see any food left in the raft. The pillowcases that had held the food from the hotel were empty now, and the box of MREs was gone. He evidently had not tried to scavenge food along the way, either. The sergeant had nothing to eat, and must have been desperate. Dylan thought, What a fool, not rationing out the food supply. Dylan lifted the suitcase and saw the pistol that Haber had stolen from him. There were still boxes of cartridges, some clothes, a blanket, and that black duffle bag that the sergeant had brought with him. Dylan stepped into the raft and opened the black bag. He had been right; the bag was full of weapons that the sergeant had stolen from the base. There were boxes of ammunition and hand grenades. He moved the bag carefully away from the other supplies and put his suitcase on top.

  Dylan noticed that a zipper on an outside pocket of the suitcase was partially open. He opened it the rest of the way and felt around inside. There was a folded piece of paper tucked way back in there. He pulled it out and opened it. It was a picture that his son and daughter had drawn for him, with crayons, before he left on the trip to Montana. It depicted him with his children standing beside him, and at the top they had written, We love you Daddy. The emotions evoked by that piece of paper hit him hard. He felt a sick feeling in his stomach and a huge lump in his throat. The crayon lines became blurry as tears welled in his eyes. When he noticed his two companions floating toward him, he quickly replaced the picture and wiped away his tears. He waved to the two men and shoved his raft out into the water. While he floated down the river, he kept his hand on the suitcase pocket that held the drawing, and thought of his children a thousand miles away.

  Chapter Ten

  The river carried the men forward on their journey, teasing them with abrupt changes of direction and speed. Although Dylan felt like he had the burden of leading the others on this journey, he had the comfort of knowing that the river would lead them home. That was one less thing he had to worry about. Just follow the river, let the river take its course. As the river meandered, taking the men with it, minutes changed to hours, and the hours changed to days. Nobody kept track of time anymore. The days just blurred together. The days of the week held no meaning for them. There were no jobs, no meetings, and no appointments to keep. Life was just day by day.

  They scavenged for food as they went along. For days, they supplemented the deer jerky and dried beans with small game, cattails, berries, dandelions, and other green plants that they would have normally never considered as food. As the days passed, their beards grew longer and their waistlines smaller, and after several more days, the terrain also began to change. The river gradually got wider and the current slowed. It became increasingly difficult to paddle the rafts through the sluggish water. The men decided that as the river widened, the riverbank was turning into the shoreline of a lake, so they switched from paddling to rowing the rafts. The lake seemed to fight back, in alliance with a constant headwind. The men would row and seem to advance only an imperceptible amount against the strong winds on the lake. The e
ndless rowing was burning countless calories and their hunger increased in unison with their discontent.

  The men decided to go ashore and gather more food. There were many inlets along the shoreline. They saw a large cove in the distance and rowed toward it. As they got closer, they saw white rock bluffs partially surrounded the inlet. The shoreline appeared shallow, but adequate for beaching their rafts. As they turned to enter the cove, they noticed a large cabin cruiser anchored there.

  “What do we do now?” asked Richard.

  “I say we get closer to see if it’s abandoned,” Kevin offered, as he used his pistol to point in the direction of the boat.

  Dylan reached for the rifle and held it close. “Move in slow. I’ll make some noise to let them know we’re here.”

  The men paddled up next to the boat. Dylan and Kevin went to opposite sides.

  “Hello…hello…is anybody there? Hello,” Dylan announced.

  There was no reply. The boat gently rocked in rhythm with the rafts as it floated on the lake, silent except for the gentle slap of the water against the hull.

  “Hello…we’re going to come on deck now…if anyone is there, let us know,” Dylan repeated the announcement as he nodded to Richard.

  Richard immediately contorted his face. He looked at Dylan and silently mouthed the words, “Why me?” as he shrugged his shoulders.

  Dylan waved him onward with his hand. Richard apprehensively grabbed the ladder at the rear of the boat and climbed upward. He slowly brought his head above the deck of the boat and cautiously looked around. After a quick glance back at his companions, Richard triumphantly jumped onto the boat. He motioned for the other men to join him. Kevin secured the rafts to the boat before joining his friends and was last up the ladder. The men remained quiet, whispering softly and using hand signals to communicate.

  After Kevin stepped onboard, Richard looked at the closed cabin door and then back at Dylan and Kevin. Dylan nodded again to Richard. Richard immediately grimaced for the second time, looked at Dylan and mouthed the words again, “Why me?” as he shrugged once more.