Darkness After Series (Prequel): Enter the Darkness

by Scott B. Williams

  * * *

  Mitch reached the edge of Lake Pontchartrain by 3 a.m. He was alone out there for the most part, other than when passed by the occasional running vehicle heading out of the city. None of the drivers had stopped to talk to him or offer him a ride though, and Mitch hadn’t tried to get the attention of any of them either. Those who had operable vehicles were far more fortunate than most, but Mitch wondered how long their means of transportation would be useful in light of the problem of getting more fuel. On the farm they kept extra gasoline and diesel on hand for the tractor, his dad’s boats, and things like the lawn mower. It wasn’t a big supply, but there would be enough fuel to operate the old truck and the tractor for at least a little while. Mitch didn’t anticipate the need to drive far, and that was a good thing because the truck needed work and wasn’t used often. If he knew exactly where to find them, it would be tempting to consider driving it to Texas to get his parents, but it was unlikely the old antique Ford would make it that far without issues. Aside from that, he knew the fuel problem would probably be insurmountable. From the stories he’d heard after Hurricane Katrina, Mitch knew that people would steal fuel during a major shortage, and he doubted it would be safe to travel extra containers on board that would be an irresistible temptation to roadside bandits.

  His fantasies of making such a trip were just a way to keep his mind occupied as he walked. He was getting tired, not so much from the physical exertion, but simply from lack of sleep. The nap in the hammock at Mr. Greenfield’s house had helped a little, but since he had slept so little the night before, it was catching up with him. Thinking of all the challenges that lay before him helped to keep him moving though, and now that he’d reached the bridge across the lake he felt he’d made the first milestone of his journey, as he was about to leave New Orleans behind him for good.

  A light breeze blowing out the southeast carried the refreshing smell of the salt air with it, a pleasant change from scent of oil and other smell of the city. The nighttime temperature was pleasant, neither too warm nor too cool, but perfect for walking. Just as there had been everywhere else along the lanes of the interstate, there were abandoned cars, pickups and 18-wheelers scattered here and there as far ahead as he could see on the bridge. The far shore was barely visible as a dark silhouette on the horizon, a complete change from when he’d crossed the bridge going the other way nearly 24 hours earlier. Had it really only been that long? Mitch was surprised at the thought. The whole world had changed in such a short time. Most people were no doubt completely disoriented and unsure what to do. That was why he’d encountered so few people on the move since he’d left Mr. Greenfield’s neighborhood. He was undoubtedly one of the minority who not only had a plan, but was implementing it already and determined that nothing or no one would stop him. He felt sorry for all the folks who were going to be hit the hardest by this when the enormity of the situation finally became clear to them, but he knew there was nothing he could do for them. Maybe some of them would figure out a way to get through it or find someplace to go where they could survive it, but he was quite certain most would not.

  Mitch stopped and took another break shortly after daylight, sitting down for a few minutes to watch the sunrise before continuing the final half-mile to the north end of the bridge. He’d made good time for the first night, and was looking forward to getting some sleep as soon as he found a suitable place on the shore ahead. As he approached the end of the bridge he saw some activity on the water near what appeared to be a marina. A couple of small boats with outboards on the back were heading out on the lake, and a larger sailboat was slowly moving away from the docks, the light morning breeze barely filling its sails. Mitch thought about what Mr. Greenfield had said about there being nowhere to go, even if he and his wife still had their boat. Mitch didn’t know anything about sailing other than the little he’d read about it in books, but it seemed to him that a boat big enough to sleep on that could carry a lot of food would be a safe refuge. Maybe that was what the owner of the one he was watching now had in mind. Mitch doubted he was simply going out for a joyride.

  Just beyond where the bridge ended and adjacent to the marina he’d seen, Mitch spotted an undeveloped area of a few acres of woods and marsh next to the highway right of way. He had to walk farther north to find a place to climb down over the retaining wall, and then he was finally off the concrete after all those hours. Mitch picked his way through a tangle of brush and high grass and found a dry patch of open ground hidden within a grove of scrubby pines. He took off his backpack and quiver, and using the pack for a pillow, stretched out to get some much needed rest.

  Thirteen

  NO ONE GOT MUCH sleep at Stacy’s house that first night after the blackout. Mrs. Burns didn’t make it home that day or during the long, dark night that followed. Mitch didn’t show up either, and this seemed to confirm what Mr. Smith had suggested—the effects of whatever caused all of this were widespread. Stacy’s mom’s car was surely disabled, as was the new truck Mitch was driving. Lisa wasn’t as worried about Mitch as Jason and Stacy were about their mom. Mitch could take care of himself, and Lisa had no doubt he was probably already walking in the direction of home if he hadn’t found some other way to get there. He would probably come here first looking for her, but Lisa knew it was a long way to New Orleans and that if he were walking it would take him several days. She couldn’t sit here waiting for him with Stacy’s mom stuck in Hattiesburg. There was no way Mrs. Burns was going to be able to walk home, even though it was only about 35 miles from the hospital where she worked. Mrs. Burns was not an outdoorsy person nor was she into physical activities, so it was unlikely she would attempt it.

  “She’s probably just fine at the hospital,” Lisa had told Stacy and Jason numerous times over the last twenty-four hours. “Unless she can find a ride with someone who has an old vehicle that runs, she’ll probably stay put. The patients are going to still need care and you know the hospital probably has generators that can run for a long time.”

  “They do,” Jason said, “but I’ll bet a lot of their equipment was fried just like everybody’s cell phones were. Patients are going to die if the machines that were keeping them alive aren’t working.”

  “I don’t even want to think about that,” Stacy said. “If Mom is there she and the other nurses and doctors will do everything they can for their patients. I’m just worried she was already on her way home. She could be anywhere between here and there. That’s why I don’t want to wait any longer.”

  “I agree,” Lisa said. “We don’t have to wait. We can leave this morning for the farm. We might as well start walking. It’ll only take a few hours if we don’t stop much.”

  “I just hope you’re right about that old truck running,” Jason said.

  “We didn’t use it much, but I know it was running fine before, and it’s older than some of the other vehicles we’ve seen running, like Rusty’s car. I don’t see why it wouldn’t.”

  “Somebody could steal it out of the barn,” Stacy said. “People might start stealing vehicles that still work since so many don’t.”

  “Yeah, she’s right,” Jason said. “We’d better get moving before that happens. With Mitch and your parents gone, there’s no one to stop someone from taking it.”

  “I’ll leave Mom a note on the table by her bed so she’ll know where we went—just in case she somehow makes it home first,” Stacy said.

  “Yeah, and let’s stop by Mr. Holloway’s store and tell him too,” Lisa said. “If Mitch comes here to Brooklyn first, he’ll probably stop by the store.”

  “If it’s open,” Jason said.

  “You know Mr. Holloway won’t be far away no matter what. His house is right beside it.” Lisa had been stopping in at the little country store for as long as she could remember. It was the only real store left in the tiny little town, and Mitch and her often went by there after school for a soda and snack before heading home. She doubted Mr. Holloway would be going anywhere. Hi
s gas pumps might not be working, but he would sell the food and other stock he had to the locals that were his friends until he ran out. Lisa knew that most of them would pay in cash anyway.

  “I wish I had a way to give you kids a ride to the farm,” Mr. Holloway said after hearing their plans and giving them some candy bars to take for their long walk. “You won’t have any trouble walking though, I don’t suppose. Just watch yourselves if you do drive that old truck to Hattiesburg. I’d recommend staying on the back roads if I were you. I’ve been talking to some of the other fellows in town, and they figure we’d better keep a watch for outsiders passing through. Folks are going to get plenty desperate when they run out of everything and realize they don’t have many options. It’d be best if y’all could go get your mother and get back down there to the farm and lay low for awhile until Doug and Mitch make it back. You’ll be better off out there away from all the highways and main roads.”

  Lisa hadn’t thought about how close Highway 49 was to Stacy’s house, and how that highway might soon be busy with refugees trying to find food and other things they needed. She knew Mr. Holloway was right about their farm though. It was way out in the middle of nowhere and not on the way to anything. She doubted any strangers would find their way there, and she knew that when Mitch got back he would keep a sharp lookout for intruders. Her dad had made sure they were self-sufficient living out there, and they had never wanted for anything when hurricanes and other storms knocked the power out for a few days. It would be a lot longer this time, but at least they had the land and the cows and the creek out back. They would have what they needed with or without the power grid working. She told Mr. Holloway they would heed his advice. She knew all the back roads in the vicinity of the farm and a route from there most of the way to Hattiesburg that avoided highways. It was the way Mitch went whenever he had to go there, and Lisa had ridden with him many times. She could drive the old truck by herself just fine, because her dad had taught her how even though she was far too young to have a license. She wouldn’t need to though, because Jason had his license and it would be best to let him do it in case they happened to encounter any police officers once they got to the city.

  They left Brooklyn on the paved county road that ran more or less parallel to the creek, walking at the pace that Jason and Stacy set. Lisa knew she could go much faster if she were alone, because she liked to run and hike and was in great shape from spending so much time doing both around the farm. She was sure Jason and Stacy were capable of walking the 15 miles they had to go, but she didn’t want to push them to exhaustion. They had all day to get there, and a few hours wasn’t going to make much difference one way or the other.

  The road ran roughly parallel to Black Creek on the north side for the first several miles. The stream was the only federally designated National Wild and Scenic River in the state and was Brooklyn’s one and only claim to fame. There was a big canoe rental operation on the main road near the bridge, and people came from all over on summer weekends to paddle the pristine waterway winding through Desoto National Forest. Lisa had thought briefly about the three of them renting a canoe and paddling downstream to the Henley farm. It would be possible, because the creek ran close to the back of their property and they already kept a family canoe hidden in the woods there. But then there would be the problem of having to return it, which might be difficult if they didn’t have enough gas for the old truck after going to Hattiesburg for Mrs. Burns. The rental operation wouldn’t be open anyway, and even if they found the owner there he probably wouldn’t be interested in renting them one after what happened. The other reason Lisa thought it might be better to walk was that there was always a chance someone would drive by in a running vehicle and offer them a ride, saving them time. That’s exactly what happened two hours later, when they were about six miles down the road from Brooklyn.

  The three of them stopped walking at the sound of a big truck shifting gears as it came around a distant curve behind them. Lisa guessed it was an old logging truck, as there were a lot of them around here. When it came into view, they stood by the side of the road watching it approach, but they didn’t put out a thumb or try to flag it down. The driver slowed anyway, and after getting a good look at them, stopped in the middle of the road just past where they were standing.

  “Awesome!” Jason said. “I was already getting tired of walking.”

  They ran up to the cab and the man driving looked them over. Lisa didn’t recognize him, and neither did Jason or Stacy, but he was friendly and after asking where they were headed, told them to climb in the cab. There was barely enough room for the three of them to squeeze in, but they made it work and the truck driver took them as far as he was going in their direction, dropping them off at the turn off to the gravel road that led to the farm.

  “Thank you!” Lisa said as they climbed out of the truck.

  “Nothing to it. Glad I could help you kids out. There’s a lot of folks walking right now and I imagine there’ll be a lot more.”

  The old truck pulled away, leaving Lisa and her friends in the silence of the national forest. The road here didn’t pass any other houses but Lisa’s, and they walked the last few miles among tall pines that grew almost to the shoulders on either side. When they reached the gate to the long lane leading to the house, Lisa unlocked it with her key and shut it behind them. It was strange walking home like this knowing no one would be there. She had no idea how long it would take Mitch to get back, but she was certain he wasn’t there yet. If they were lucky, they could drive to Hattiesburg and get Mrs. Burns and make it all the way back before Mitch did. Lisa knew that would be best, because he would be furious if he got here first and found the old truck missing.

  The truck was parked in the barn where it always was, and Lisa’s mom’s car was in the open carport attached to the house. Her dad’s state patrol truck was in the side yard, and his patrol boat was under its shed next to his personal fishing boat. Lisa unlocked the house and they went inside. Everything was as it had been left, and there was no sign anyone had been there since Mitch and her parents left. There were kerosene lanterns and several candles on the top shelf in the pantry. Her mom kept them there for power outages during storms, and Lisa pulled them down to distribute around the house so they would have light when they got back. From what she could guess by the angle of the sun, it was early afternoon and they still had a few hours before dark.

  She went to Mitch’s bedroom, the one room in the house that was off limits to her any other time, to get his key to the old Ford. Since Mitch drove it much more often than his dad, she knew he kept the key in his room. She thought she would find it on his nightstand, but it wasn’t there, nor in the drawer beneath. She looked on his study desk among his notebooks and other school stuff and couldn’t find it there either. Darn it! I’ll bet he put it in his pocket out of habit even though he wasn’t going to need it for the trip to New Orleans she thought. She went to her dad’s office next, hoping to find a spare in his desk drawer. The keys to his state game warden’s truck were there, as well as an extra set for her mom’s Chevy Trailblazer, but even though she searched the whole room, there wasn’t another key for the Ford.

  “This doesn’t look good,” Lisa said, as she and Jason and Stacy stood next to the old truck with both doors open, having already searched the glove box and under the mats for a spare.

  “Maybe we can hot wire it like they do in the movies,” Jason said.

  “Yeah, but do you know how? Mitch probably does, and my dad too, but I sure don’t.”

  “I don’t have a clue,” Jason said.

  Lisa pondered their options as she raised the hood and looked at the engine. There had to be a way. They would eventually figure it out, but they were running out of time today. Even if they knew what they were doing, it was getting late and it would be best to wait until tomorrow to leave. They had to figure out how to crank the truck in the morning, and she was determined to do it. As they walked back past her dad
’s patrol truck, Jason commented on the rifle that was locked in its security rack inside. It was a Smith & Wesson M&P 15, issued to him by the wildlife department. Jason said they should get it out in case they needed it, and Lisa agreed. But like the ignition key to the old Ford, the keys to the patrol truck were not to be found in any of the places she looked in her dad’s office. There were more guns in the safe, including her .22 carbine, but Mitch had apparently taken that key with him too. The AR-15 was the only weapon they might be able to get to, and that would require breaking into her dad’s truck, an idea that Jason suggested.

  “Maybe tomorrow,” Lisa said. “Let’s see if we can get the old truck running first, and if I still can’t find a key to the gun safe, then I guess we’ll have no choice.”

  Fourteen

  ONCE SHE WAS SURE that it was running right and confident that it would start again, April switched off the Mustang and put the key in her pocket. She didn’t want to waste gas by running it any longer than necessary because she was unsure of how much gas was in the tank. The fuel gauge had been broken since before David got the car, and it was always a guessing game as to how much was in it. He had gotten in the habit of keeping it mostly topped up because of that, but April couldn’t be sure how close it was to full now. She just hoped it would be enough to get to Hattiesburg because from what she’d heard about other stores, buying more might not be an option. She knew the V8 engine was a lot thirstier than the 4-cylinder in her little Honda, but if there were a few gallons in the tank it would get her there.