by Lundy, W. J.
“Radio is sending fine, but nobody is picking up,” Rogers said. “I think I’ll go on alone tomorrow. I can move faster and send help back for you.”
“Where exactly will you go?” Stone asked.
Jacob, suddenly caught off guard, didn’t know the answer to the question. He looked at Rogers, waiting for a response.
Rogers put the cup to his lips and took a sip. “I guess I’ll continue driving north; find that comms tower on the Army base. Try to reach command and get a ride out of here then send a bird back for you all.”
Stone chewed his lower lip and used a hand to rub his tired eyes. “I’ve been thinking about that—this Army base. It doesn’t make sense to me.”
“How so?” Rogers asked.
“For starters, Grayling is even farther away. Why would you want to go farther if you can’t send a message from here? There's a local state police post in town. I’d bet they have just as good a radio tower—hell, maybe better. I know they can hit patrol cars a good distance upstate.”
Rogers took another sip, thinking about what the old man had said. “This police station, is it close to the lake? You sure it’s still intact?”
“I’m sending Eve to town in the morning. I want to make sure those things are gone. She can take you to the station to have a look.”
Chapter Forty-Eight
Jacob opened his eyes, trying to remember where he was. It was dark, but the silence had ended. The noise outside reminded him that he was in hell; the constant calling, the high-pitched screams. The Darkness, Deltas, the black-eyed bastards—whatever they hell they chose to call them—were out there, wounded and blinded. They were emerging from their dens, or wherever they spent their days, to howl, hunt, and feed. Except tonight they came out screaming. He’d heard them crying out in the night before, but this was different; this wasn’t the typical moan of the hunters. It was agony. They were out there dying and suffering the effects of the dioxin.
He lay on the top bunk, listening to their cries. He tried to sleep, but every time he closed his eyes, their screams entered his dreams. He felt James shift below him, the big man tossing in the bottom bunk. “You awake?” James whispered.
“I am. You feeling all right?”
“I woke up a few hours ago. Warm and soft in this bed. The night was quiet. I tried telling myself this was all just a bad dream. But then that started,” James whispered.
Jacob swallowed hard and squirmed in the top rack, sitting up against the wall. He didn’t respond. He just sat with his back to the cedar planks, listening to the moans outside and wondering if they were close. If they would be safe if they tried to enter the cabin again.
“We hurt them today, Jacob. We hurt 'em bad and they know it,” James said, getting up from the bed. “That’s what you hear; that’s how they mourn over a healthy ass-kicking.” James moved across the room and stopped to feed more wood into the stove. As he adjusted the flue, the flames grew, filling the one-room cabin with an eerie yellow light. Duke got up and edged close to the stove, stretching before moving in a circle. Then, stopping by the door, he sniffed the air entering from outside; his ears perked, then relaxed. Finally, the yellow dog moved and lay by the warmth of the fire.
James slid a chair away from the wall. He lifted his uniform from a hook and pulled on his pants and jacket. He lifted his rifle, looking it over before removing the night vision goggles from his pack.
“What are you doing?” Jacob asked. “You aren’t thinking of going out there?”
James yanked on his heavy boots, pulled the speed laces tight, and then put on a pair of green leather shooting gloves. “I’m going hunting; finishing what we started today.”
“Alone?”
“No, Duke is coming. He still has scores to settle too,” James said, standing up. He placed the NVGs onto the top of his head. Reaching down, he retrieved his tactical vest and pulled it on over his shoulders. He looked down, checking the straps and ammo pouches on the front before slipping the Ruger MK III back into its holster.
“James, I think you should stay. You don’t have to do this; there's nothing out there that can change what happened today,” Jacob protested, already knowing it wouldn’t do any good.
The bearded man smiled before turning and walking to the door. “Don’t worry about me; I’ll be back when the sun comes up.” James unlatched the door and slowly opened it, letting the cold air enter the room. He took a step and stood in the doorway. “Can you feel it, Jacob? Oh, I do, and I’m going to go get me some. We’re going to take what’s ours, ain’t we, Duke?” The dog leapt to his feet and joined the man’s side. Without speaking another word, James dropped into the night, closing the door behind him.
Jacob was wide-awake now. He regretted not doing more to stop him, or even leaving with him. He sat against the cedar boards, listening to the howls outside, the evil screams. He thought he heard a distant bark, and then a gunshot split the night air. He strained, listening for a sign that James was okay. He debated waking Rogers to go out after him. Moments later, another shot, followed by another, the last being even more distant than the first.
Jacob shifted and dropped down from the top bunk, moving to a chair by the stove, knowing he wouldn’t sleep anymore; not this day. He retrieved his pack and took several aspirin from his hygiene kit, trying to cover the headache from the bad whiskey. He opened a case of water sitting in the corner, removed a bottle, and guzzled down the entire thing before opening another and setting it on a table beside him.
A creaking at the stairs took his attention. He looked up, seeing Rogers enter the room. The big man was carrying a cast-iron skillet filled with fried potatoes. He looked down at the empty rack, then at Jacob sitting alone by the stove. Rogers shook his head as he stepped across the room.
“James went out, did he?” he said, not really asking, no look of surprise on his face. He set the skillet atop the wood stove and set a pair of plates on the table. He served up a large portion before handing it off to Jacob.
“I don’t know what he’s doing out there; he wasn’t being reasonable. I should have gone with him.”
Rogers sat heavily in an empty seat and looked at the wood-covered window. “How long has he been out there?”
“Not long,” Jacob said, pushing potatoes across his plate with a fork.
Another gunshot cracked in the distance. “This is the way he deals with his despair. It’s his own twisted version of therapy,” Rogers whispered. “Back at the camp, I’ve seen him do this in the towers. He’ll go up there for hours. I made the mistake of going with him once. He won’t talk about it. He just perches himself up there, getting even. He thinks he can fix everything by getting even. He’ll come back; he always does.”
They sat quietly listening to the echoes of the gunshots and the howls of the Deltas. Jacob finished the potatoes, forcing every bite. He had no appetite but knew he needed the calories. Rogers offered him more, but he pushed the plate away. “How long have you known him?” Jacob asked.
“Not long, but like all things, time is relative. You go out on a mission with a guy, after a week you feel like you’ve know him your whole life. James is different but he’s good people.”
Sun broke the horizon and light cut through the bottom of the door. Eve exited the stairwell and joined them in the cabin above. She was wearing a heavy parka and gloves, a black watch cap pulled tight over her long hair. She carried a small assault pack in her hand. Looking at the empty rack and men sitting alone, she moved to the wall and set her pack and rifle beside the exit. There was a noise outside and heavy steps on the wood porch. When the door creaked opened, Duke rounded the corner, wagging his tail, with James following him.
The bearded man passed inside, stomping the snow from his boots on the threshold. He looked up at Eve and smirked. “Good morning, beautiful.”
She turned away from him, moving to the far wall. James shrugged and moved past her, setting his rifle near his pack, which he opened to return the NVGs
to an inside pocket. Duke moved to the stove and shook off the wet snow before lying in his spot. James noticed the skillet of potatoes on the stove and pointed.
“Help yourself,” Rogers said.
Using a nearby mitt, James lifted the entire thing from the hot stove. He sat at the edge of the bed, hungrily scarfing down the food, tossing every other bite to the dog.
“You all are up early,” he said, looking to the others. “It’s a cold morning.”
Eve nodded. “We’re going into town. See how things look.”
James glanced up at her and, through a mouth full of potatoes, said, “Gimme a sec. I’ll go with you.”
Jacob stood, grabbed his pack and rifle, and swung open the door to the small cabin, walking out to the brisk morning air. He carried his loaded pack over his left shoulder; his rifle slung over the other. The smell of wood smoke and cordite was still heavy in the air. A thick white-gray mist hung low, covering the ground and limiting his visibility. He moved down the steps and looked over the property. Delta bodies were everywhere. They would have to do something about them soon. Rogers and Eve stepped down beside him, followed by Duke and James. Eve walked away from the porch and moved to the trail, the others following close behind her.
“How was the hunting? Did you find what you were looking for?” Rogers asked, not looking back at James.
James coughed, clearing his throat then spitting to the side of the trail. “Wasn’t much sport to it; these things are messed up. The ones I saw were wandering around blind. A few were clawing and fighting at each other. Didn’t see a single healthy one. The dioxin must be in the air or something 'cause it’s still affecting them.”
“I don’t think that’s it,” Eve said from the front. “I’ve watched them. They rely on the ponds. I think it’s how they feed. This being their local spot, they return to it on a regular basis. If they were animals, I’d tag and track their movements. Hell, maybe I will anyway. Poison or not, we killed off the entire colony when we introduced the dioxin to that lake.”
“Did you work with animals?” Jacob asked.
“I’m… I was a research assistant with the Department of Natural Resources. I tracked the movements of white-tailed deer. I could do the same with these things.”
“So they just keep returning to the nest, poisoning themselves? You don’t think they’ll wise up to it?” Jacob said.
Eve looked at him. “I don’t know. That’s just my best guess.”
She led them farther from the cabin. As they entered the forest, she took a different route, completely avoiding the death surrounding the ambush site. Jacob thought it was for their benefit, but maybe it was a shortcut. Either way, Eve wasn’t the type to explain herself. Even walking wide, the wind carried the unmistakable stench of death. The team pulled up scarves and wrapped them around their faces. Eve moved them faster to high ground, merging with the lake view trail further west and dropping in just above the lake town.
From their high vantage point, they could clearly see down the small lake-town’s main approach. Grand homes with long wooden docks lined the water’s edge. The far side of the street was interspersed with small shops, restaurants, a post office, and other businesses. The road was congested with abandoned vehicles, most parked at the curb, some in the center of the street. A tree had fallen across the town’s only intersection and lay across a bright red fire truck.
Eve walked them to an overlook, where she knelt down and used a pair of binoculars to survey the distant streets. She pointed to a well-used hiking trail and indicated a number of small shops where they might find some needed supplies.
“Where is the state police post?” Rogers asked.
“One more street up,” she said. “It occupies an entire street corner.” Eve got back to her feet. She unslung her rifle, holding it at the ready, and approached the descending trail. Before she could move down, James and Duke moved ahead of her to the front.
“Let me take point for a bit; Duke needs to stretch his legs.” James let the dog run out ahead while he kept an eye on him, looking for any signs of trouble.
Chapter Forty-Nine
The team dropped off the trail onto a small gravel road that snaked between homes before merging with the main street. The road curved around, following the lake, its views disappearing beyond every sharp curve. The houses on the lake side were destroyed, front doors missing and every window shattered. The businesses on the land side shared the same fate. James moved the group to the side of the road, leading Duke off the sidewalks, worried about the dog’s feet and the shards of broken glass.
They spotted the first one sitting against the trunk of a large oak tree, its arms and face covered with the broken blisters. A black oily gel leaked from its mouth and eyes, forming a dried cake that stained its clothing. James moved close to the body, while Duke held back, showing his teeth. James lifted his boot and kicked the Delta. He watched it fall onto its side, the body already rigid.
James let out a low grunting sound that resembled a laugh. “This one is good… good and dead,” he said.
He turned away and continued to hike them toward the western side of the town. Looking up, Jacob could see the hill to their south, steep and wooded with the overlook at the top. The ground was blanketed with snow; in places, deep piles of leaves covered the sidewalks and banked high against the buildings. This would have been a tough place to escape in the middle of the onslaught, trapped between the terrain behind them and the lake to the front. Jacob shook his head, trying not to think about what the people here must have gone through. Eve put up a hand, pointing to a large Victorian home.
“I want to look inside,” she said.
Jacob stopped and looked at the house. Like the others, the front door was open and all the ground floor windows were shattered. It did not appear to be anything special, not worth their time. Long, once-white curtains, now a hazy yellow, moved in the breeze. They parted just enough to allow them to see into the dark home. There was nothing there.
“Why?” Rogers asked.
“I just need to see,” she answered. Eve crossed the lawn, approaching the home with her rifle at the ready. She moved out quickly and alone.
Rogers shook his head and pointed to James. “Keep watch out here. I’ll go in with Jacob while she has a look around.” He glared back at Jacob then steeped off swiftly, trying to catch up with Eve.
She moved through the front door and into the dark interior of the home. Jacob followed her but was tugged back by Rogers as he entered the doorway. They waited in the foyer, allowing their eyes to adjust to the low light. “If she wants to rush in and get herself killed then let her.”
They could hear Eve moving from room to room, stomping over the hardwood floors. After a few moments, Rogers strayed inside. Jacob followed him as they cautiously passed through the living room on the first floor.
Even though destroyed from the outside, the house was neat and orderly within. They crossed through a large formal dining room where snow covered the floor beneath a broken picture window. Rogers stopped at a large, stone fireplace with a mahogany mantel. He leaned in, and then pointed at a row of family photos… in particular, a silver framed photo at one end. A young woman in a long evening gown stood at the end of a dock, a young man behind her. Rogers lifted the picture, examining it as Eve crept up behind them. She snatched the picture from his hand and stuffed it into her pack.
“There’s nothing here, we can go,” she said, not waiting for a response.
Rogers shrugged and followed the young woman back out onto the street. She continued walking, not waiting for James to lead the way. He stopped and looked at Jacob as the men passed him by. “What did you do to my girl?” he said.
“Don’t ask,” Jacob answered. As they moved deeper into the little town, Jacob could see that many of the buildings had burned. Several of the sidewalks and entryways were coated with streaks of blood, showing signs of struggle. This place had a violent past, and it showed through every sh
attered window. Cars covered with bullet holes, a shriveled, badly decomposed body lay in a gutter with an axe planted in its back. “I don’t think this is what Rockwell had in mind,” Rogers uttered.
They patrolled over a small plank bridge where they had a clear view of the water. Eve paused, allowing them to group up as they gazed at the lake’s cold water. The oily sheen was gone, replaced by a thick, black crust with the texture of roofing tar. The dry surface was scaled and flaking, bits of it broken off and floating in the lake and bunching together. Clear water escaped between the broken shards of the crust; bloated dead fish floated in the gaps. There were still no signs of The Darkness, the entire place giving off an eerie feeling of death.
“No one will ever live here again,” Jacob whispered.
Eve backed away, ignoring his statement. She pointed to an intersection in the distance. “The police station is just ahead,” she said.
The two-story, brick-covered building on a corner lot looked like a reclaimed home. It stood in the open with wide views of the lake. The front entry doors were open, a set of squad cars on flat tires blocking the main entrance. Knocked over sawhorses and police barriers lay across the road. They moved closer, spotting the bodies of uniformed officers lying near the vehicles. Spent shotgun shells covered the ground. The team roved away, skirting around to the rear of the building, following the perimeter without entering it.
At the backside, they spotted a number of National Guard trucks, two Humvees, and a larger troop transport. Several badly damaged police cruisers were in a line near an open bay garage. The only noise came from the fabric of a shredded tent as it slapped against the frame. Rows of black body bags lay organized in neat rows at the back of the tent. Rogers pointed to a tall radio tower then turned to Eve, stopping her. “That’s what we’re here for. Let’s see what’s inside.”
