Dark Days

by Bradley, Arthur T. , Ph. D.

  Samantha pointed to the vacant stretch of highway to their left.

  “Spring City should be that way.” She turned to Duncan. “I’m assuming you know how to get there.”

  He nodded. “We’ll be fine from here. Carla’s family owns several farms south of town.”

  Carla stepped toward Samantha. “But what about you, dear? What are you going to do?”

  “I’ll hike up to our truck for the night.”

  “And in the morning?”

  Samantha hesitated. “I’ll figure that out in the morning.”

  Carla grabbed Duncan’s arm and gently pulled him aside.

  “We can’t just leave her here. She’s…” She leaned closer and lowered her voice. “She’s a child, for God’s sake.”

  “What do you want me to do? If I try to force her to come along, I’m pretty sure she’ll shoot me.” It was clear from his tone that he was only half-kidding.

  Samantha overheard them but said nothing. Would she really shoot him if he tried to make her leave Tanner? Probably. But only in the leg.

  “We have to do something,” said Carla. “We’re Christians. We can’t leave a child alone in the dark like this.”

  Duncan thought long and hard before answering.

  “I’ll stay with her until morning.” From the way he said it, he clearly expected his wife to protest.

  She didn’t. Instead, Carla leaned in and kissed him on the cheek.

  “You’re a good man, Duncan.”

  “When the sun comes up, I’ll give her the choice to come with me. But if she doesn’t, I’ll have to leave her.”

  Carla nodded. “Be careful.”

  He kissed her and helped to call everyone together. A few minutes later, the group of families began their hike northwest along Highway 68. Duncan and Samantha remained behind, watching the others disappear into the darkness.

  “You didn’t have to stay with me,” she said. “I can take care of myself.”

  “I believe you.”

  She looked over at him, suddenly realizing how thankful she was for his decision.

  “Thanks.”

  He smiled. “No one wants to be alone at night.”

  “Come on,” she said softly. “The truck’s up this way.”

  They found the Power Wagon where she and Tanner had left it earlier in the day. Samantha scouted the area to make sure no one was hiding in wait.

  They weren’t.

  “I think we’re clear,” she called, waving for Duncan to approach.

  He eyed the big truck. “I don’t suppose you happen to have a spare sleeping bag in there.”

  She lifted out a heavy wool blanket from the back and handed it to him.

  “Will this do?”

  He nodded. “Perfect. Thanks.”

  Samantha opened the passenger-side door and set Tanner’s shotgun down in the floorboard.

  “Are you hungry?”

  “A little, now that you mention it.”

  She carried a few cans of food and a foldable shovel around to the front of the truck. Placing the cans on the hood, she unfolded the shovel and began digging a small pit.

  “See if you can find us some firewood.”

  He hesitated. “I don’t know if it’s such a good idea to build a fire. The Watchmen might see it.”

  “That’s why I’m building it on this side of the truck. Besides, I’m going to build a Dakota Fire Hole.”

  “A what?”

  “Gather some wood, and I’ll show you.”

  As Duncan wandered the outskirts of the small field looking for wood, Samantha couldn’t help but smile. She had been in his shoes more than a few times, and it occurred to her that in a weird way, she had become Tanner. Not as skilled perhaps, and certainly not as tough. But she knew how to do things, things that would help to keep her and Duncan alive.

  When he returned, carrying an armful of branches, Duncan set them down beside the two small holes she had dug.

  “A Dakota Fire Hole,” she explained, “is basically two holes interconnected by an underground tunnel.” She set some of the driest twigs down into one of the holes. “We’ll build the fire in this hole, and air will come in through the other hole to feed it. The nice thing about it is that the fire sits below ground level, making it harder to see.”

  She packed some dried leaves and pine needles under the branches to act as tinder and used a lighter to set them ablaze. It didn’t take long for the twigs to catch fire. She used the next few minutes feeding in larger and larger branches.

  Duncan came over and squatted down, holding his hands over the fire.

  “That feels good.”

  Samantha went over to a nearby tree and used her knife to hack off a small branch. She trimmed off the shoots until it was a single pole, three feet in length. Then she returned to the fire and propped the stick between two rocks so that one end protruded about six inches above the fire pit. When she had it all set up, she retrieved a small pot, dumped two cans of pork and beans into it, and hung it over the fire.

  While the beans cooked, she gathered several stones and stacked them to act as a small wall along one side of the pit.

  “What’s that for?” Duncan said, dragging a large rock closer to the fire.

  “It’s to reflect some of the heat back toward us. Plus, if we get cold in the night, we can put a couple of hot stones under the blankets.”

  “You’re pretty good at this,” he said, sitting down.

  “It’s easy when you have everything you need. When it gets hard is when you’ve got nothing but a pocket knife, some shoe strings, and an old sock.”

  “An old sock?”

  “Believe me, you don’t want to know.”

  He smiled. “Your father must be very proud.”

  “Tanner says I’m a work in progress.”

  “If he’s half as good as you are, he’ll be out of there in no time.”

  “No,” she said, shaking her head. “He’s going to need some help this time.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  Samantha fidgeted with the rubber bracelet around her wrist.

  “Whatever I have to.”

  “You can’t win against all those men. Surely, you must know that.”

  She didn’t say anything. The same thought had been playing through her mind for the past hour. What exactly was she going to do?

  The radio crackled, but they were too far away to get enough reception to make out the words. She pulled the radio from her waistband and stared at it. A plan began to take shape.

  “What is it?” he said.

  “I have an idea. But I’ll need your help.”

  “Okay,” he said tentatively. “What do I have to do?”

  Instead of answering, she said, “Do you think it’s okay to lie when it’s for a really good reason?”

  He chuckled. “Dear, I’m married. Of course I do.”

  “Good. Because this one’s going to be a doozie.”

  With Duncan safely tucked away inside the cab of the Power Wagon, Samantha lay in the bed of the truck, staring up at a sky full of stars. She imagined what it might be like to be out among them, endlessly flying through space like explorers on the USS Enterprise. What mysteries must be out there?

  Something in the forest howled, and she sat up, staring out into the night. Even with her eyes having adjusted to the dark, it was impossible to see more than a few feet away. She willed her eyes to cut through the darkness. It didn’t work. She recalled how well she could see when briefly infected with a weakened strain of the Superpox-99 virus. Where was Dr. Jarvis when she needed him?

  She listened for a time as creatures, big and small, did their nightly dance. She had never really liked the dark, not because she thought monsters came out at night. She knew that for a fact. Rather, it was because the dark seemed to turn the world into a place that hovered halfway between life and death, a mysterious state with an uncanny resemblance to something Father Paul had called Purgatory.
r />   A branch snapped to her right, and she instinctively reached for her rifle. The .22 caliber weapon wouldn’t kill a werewolf, but it might at least scare it away. She had found the rifle in a sporting goods store while she and Tanner were on the run from Pike’s evil agents. It was the first time she had ever held a firearm, but now it felt like a trusted friend.

  She waited, staring into the darkness for several minutes. Nothing came for her. Finally accepting that there wasn’t much to be done about werewolves sneaking up on the truck, Samantha lay back and closed her eyes. She took a deep breath and imagined that Tanner was there with her.

  Get some sleep, kiddo. Tomorrow’s going to be a hard day.

  “I know,” she whispered. “I’m a little scared. Is that okay?”

  Of course it is.

  “I’m lonely too. Duncan’s not much company.”

  Not everyone can be the conversationalist that I am.

  She grinned, but then her face grew serious.

  “You shouldn’t have gone back in there.”

  You know why I went back.

  “I know, but if you die…”

  I won’t die.

  “But what if you do?”

  If I do, you can go visit Malina and her furball anytime you want to talk to me.

  Samantha smiled. “That would be so funny, you talking to Babik.”

  Hilarious, I’m sure.

  “Do you remember what Malina said about my mom telling me something the last time we were together?”

  I do.

  “You never asked me what it was. Don’t you want to know?”

  Only if you want to tell me.

  Samantha replayed the scene in her mind.

  “I was getting into a helicopter so they could take me someplace safe from the virus.”

  Makes sense.

  “My mom couldn’t come along on account of being the president, and my dad was already starting to get sick, so they decided to send me away.”

  To keep you safe.

  She nodded. “My mom gave me a big hug and told me not to be afraid. She said that when things get really dark, God provides a light to show you the way home.” Samantha swallowed and took a deep breath before continuing. “I’m not sure, but I think she was talking about you.”

  Me?

  “When you first saved me from that burning building, I saw something good in you. Not much, of course,” she quickly added.

  Of course.

  “But there was something in your eyes. A spark that couldn’t be put out. That’s crazy, right?”

  You were probably just hallucinating from breathing all that smoke.

  “Maybe. But that’s one reason I went with you. And in time, you did take me home. Not only to my home, but to yours.”

  It’s our home now, Sam.

  “I know. But if I lose you, I’ll be alone again.” She paused. “I don’t want to be alone.”

  All right. So, what are you going to do about it?

  Samantha pulled her rifle close. “I’m going to go and get you.”

  Chapter 16

  Even though the James River Bridge was a thick concrete structure, Brooke imagined it swaying from side to side with every good gust of wind blowing in from the Chesapeake Bay. She did her best to stay in the center of the four-lane divided highway, but that didn’t keep her from occasionally glancing over the concrete railing at the water nearly twenty feet below.

  The walk was equally as unnerving for Mason, but for an altogether different reason. Other than a scattering of abandoned cars, the bridge offered little cover and no clean retreat. If Locke’s men were to spot them, the subsequent pursuit and shootout would likely not go well.

  Bowie was the only one who seemed completely at ease on the floating walkway, strolling along the concrete shoulder close enough to hear the water splash over the support pylons.

  Mason glanced over at Brooke. “Are you doing okay?”

  She offered a nervous smile. “Let’s just say I’ll be glad when we’re off this bridge.”

  “It’s not much farther.” He pointed up ahead to the lift. “That’s where we’ll gain access to the barge.”

  “And you’re sure it’s safe?”

  “I’ve been down on the boat already. Other than a little settling, it seemed safe enough.”

  “A little settling!”

  He smiled. “You’ll see.”

  They continued ahead, finally arriving at the huge lift. Brooke hooked her arm through his as they approached the edge of the mangled structure. The small gangplank was still in place between the bridge and the ship’s wheelhouse.

  “We’ll need to cross over and make our way below deck.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding.”

  “That, or I lower you down on a rope. Believe me, of the two, walking would be more comfortable.”

  She held onto his arm a little tighter.

  “I don’t know about this.”

  Before he could reassure her any further, Bowie began to bark.

  Mason and Brooke turned to find a single vehicle coming their way. It was moving fast.

  “It’s them,” she said. “They’ve found us.”

  “Yeah, but how?” He couldn’t imagine his pursuers choosing the bridge over a more direct path back to the colony. Perhaps Locke had sent two teams and had them split up. He glanced down at the barge. “I don’t suppose I could convince you to go aboard without me?”

  “I’ll stay by your side, thank you.”

  “That’s what I figured.”

  Mason hurried behind an overturned panel van, the words “Storybook Bakery” painted on its side. The back of the van lay open, and trays of brightly colored cupcakes lay scattered on the asphalt. What were once delectable sweets now resembled blobs of dried Play-Doh.

  Bowie, however, was undeterred by their condition and began nosing through the pastries.

  Mason brought his M4 up and held it at the ready, watching the vehicle speed toward them. It was a big Ford dually pickup, two men riding up front and two others standing in the bed. As they drew closer, he began to make out their faces.

  “Well, I’ll be,” he said, slowly lowering his rifle.

  “Who is it?” she asked.

  “Reinforcements.” Mason set his M4 on the hood and stepped out from behind the van with a friendly wave.

  The truck came to within about forty feet and skidded to a stop. All four men dismounted, but only Dix and Beebie approached. Cam and Red stayed by the truck, fanning out a few steps to either side.

  Mason whistled, and Bowie came scurrying around from the bakery truck. His nose was smeared with pink and yellow icing.

  “Come on, boy. Let’s go say hello.”

  They started toward Dix and Beebie, Brooke following a few steps behind. As they closed to within a few yards, she suddenly darted out from behind Mason and ran toward the men, waving her arms and shouting, “Help me! Please, help me!”

  Mason and Bowie stopped and stared, man and beast equally baffled.

  Beebie caught the woman, pulling her to his massive chest. She immediately collapsed against him and began to sob uncontrollably.

  Mason cocked his head, eyes narrowed. Something was afoot. Something that he hadn’t seen coming.

  Dix took a step toward him.

  “I always said you had a few rats loose in the attic, Top.”

  “What are you talking about? What’s going on here?”

  “I’m talking about the fact that actions have consequences. Even for you.” There was a taut tone to Dix’s voice that was different, troubling even.

  “What actions?”

  “Rape. Murder. Kidnapping. I’m sure there are other crimes that haven’t yet been uncovered. I blame it partly on myself. The signs were all there. I was just too blind to see them.”

  Mason’s gut tightened and his gaze returned to Brooke. A trap had been set, and he had stepped into it with both feet. The only question that remained was whether he could get back o
ut.

  “And who did I supposedly commit these crimes against?”

  “Let’s start with this young woman’s fiancé.”

  “Her fiancé?”

  “The Farm’s Chief of Security, Cash.”

  Mason shook his head, unsure of what to believe.

  “The way I hear it, you had your way with this little missy, and when he confronted you about it, you shot him dead.” He looked over at Beebie. “I have that about right?”

  Beebie nodded, his eyes tight.

  “After that, you tossed her in the trunk and fled for what I’m sure was going to be a fun-filled weekend getaway.” He shook his head. “Bad choices all around, my friend.”

  “First of all, I didn’t rape or kidnap anyone. And second, I would have expected men who served under my command to know me better than that.”

  “We didn’t want to believe it. In fact, I’m not sure Beebie was all in until he found the young lady’s note in the trunk.”

  “Her note?”

  “She left it behind, telling us which way to go.” Dix shook his head. “You weren’t careful, Top, and that’s not like you.”

  Mason stared at Brooke, unable to put his thoughts into words. She had set him up, and he found himself struggling to sort through the lies.

  Dix said, “I suppose only she can tell us what really happened.” He turned to Brooke, his voice softening. “Miss?”

  Brooke looked up, tears trickling down her face. When she spoke, she barely managed to choke out the words.

  “It’s all true. He forced himself on me last night in his room. When Cash confronted him…” She struggled to continue. “He-he killed him. Before I could get away, he beat me and threw me into the trunk.”

  Beebie eyed Mason and clenched his teeth as he gently stroked the woman’s hair.

  “Easy now,” he said in a deep voice. “It’s going to be okay.”

  Dix turned back to Mason. “Marshal, as Ricky Ricardo used to say, it appears you got some ’splainin’ to do.”

  Mason felt his face flush, embarrassment, frustration, and anger all doing their part.

  “Dix, listen to me. This is all Locke’s doing. You men are being played.”

  “And the girl? She’s in on it too?”