The Dark

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The Dark Page 13

by Jason Brant


  Molly was by the broken window beside Christy, whining and pacing back and forth.

  While trying to shush the dog, Aaron and Stephanie kneeled down by the window, looking in at Walter. His face had a myriad of cuts crisscrossing it, small beads of scarlet running into his beard. Air bags had deployed and then deflated in the front of the car, the empty canvas hanging from the steering wheel and dash.

  More blood appeared by Christy’s temple. A nasty bruise formed on the side of her face. Her limbs were limp, hanging in the air below her.

  “Help me get her down,” Walter said.

  Aaron did the same things he’d done to Stephanie, wrapping his arms around her in preparation for the release of her seatbelt.

  The dead weight from her unconscious body thumped down much harder than Stephanie’s had. The back of her head cracked off the ceiling, making Aaron suck air through his teeth. The poor woman probably had a concussion already – slamming her head off things wouldn’t make it any better.

  The three of them pulled her free of the car, careful not to drag her through anything that could hurt her more.

  Aaron went back for the lantern.

  Molly barked from behind him.

  Something moved on the other side of the car.

  He grabbed the light, raising it up.

  More movement through the windshield on his right.

  Close.

  Aaron crawled backward on his hands and knees, ignoring the stabs of pain in his palms.

  His feet bumped into Stephanie behind him.

  “What—”

  Stephanie looked over her shoulder at Aaron, her voice dying in her throat.

  Both of their parents stood by the car, watching from the shadows.

  Walter sat with Christy’s head in his lap, lightly tapping her cheeks. Her eyes fluttered and she groaned.

  “Walt?” Aaron stared back at his father. Or what looked like his father.

  “I’m a little busy right now.”

  “Walt.”

  “Goddamn it! What do you—”

  Another woman appeared by the trunk of the cruiser. She looked young, maybe thirty, though her features were largely hidden by the dark.

  “Melissa,” Walter said.

  “Is that your daughter?” Stephanie whispered.

  “Yeah. She appeared in the middle of the road back there. I knew it wasn’t her, but my mind couldn’t process it fast enough. All I could see was my daughter in front of the car and I acted on instinct.”

  “They won’t let us leave.” Aaron held the lantern close, knowing that it was all that kept them at bay.

  “Goddamn you!” Walter’s rage made Stephanie and Aaron jump.

  “Walter? What happened?” Christy tried to sit up, her eyes still glazed over but slowly clearing. “Where are we?”

  A fourth person appeared behind the car, between Aaron and Stephanie’s parents. She was middle-aged, but still quite pretty.

  “Mom?” Christy rolled to her side, putting her weight on her elbow, her brow furrowed.

  Walter rose to his feet, his hands clenched into trembling fists. “What do you want from us?”

  “Turn off the light.” They chanted in unison, their voices dead, emotionless.

  “Why are you torturing us like this?”

  “Come and be with us,” Melissa said.

  “You aren’t my daughter!”

  “She’s here with us, like all of the rest.” Something under the skin of her cheek writhed. Aaron held in a scream. “You can be with her again. Your wife is here too.”

  “What are you?”

  Melissa answered, much to Aaron’s surprise.

  “We are Legion, for we are many.”

  “Legion? Are you demons?”

  “We have so many names.”

  Aaron’s father stepped forward, his ailment nowhere to be seen. “Turn off the lantern, Aaron. There is no pain here.”

  “Tell that to my roommate,” Christy said, her words slurring a bit.

  “Where do you come from?” Walter asked.

  “The space between.”

  “What does that mean? The space between what?”

  “Everything.”

  “What is this darkness?” Walter asked, pressing for more answers.

  “It is everything and nothing.”

  “What the hell does that mean?”

  It didn’t respond.

  “Answer me, goddamn you!”

  “You can’t escape. Just turn out the light and join me, Daddy.”

  “Aaron, I’m your father, now turn off the lantern.”

  “Stephanie, we miss you so much. Please come be with us.”

  “Christy, I’m so alone. Don’t leave me.”

  The cacophony of pleas bombarded Aaron’s mind. He couldn’t take much more. Hearing his father giving him an easy escape from their torment tempted him. It would be certain death, but hearing it from his dad made it seem not so bad.

  The conniving bastards.

  “Leave us alone!” Walter stomped past Aaron, snatching the lantern from his hands. He moved to the patrol car in three long strides, forcing the things back into the darkness.

  Their hisses came from the void, ominous warnings of what waited for them if they were to lose their light.

  “Join us.”

  “Fuck you.” Walter reached into the front seat and pulled his bag out, throwing it over his shoulder.

  “Christy, can you walk?”

  “I think. I’m so tired though.”

  “You probably have a concussion. Don’t lie down or you might fall asleep. Just stay on your feet and follow me.”

  The three of them stood, staring at Walter. His demeanor had changed, rage evident on his face.

  “What are we going to do now?” Aaron asked. He wasn’t certain he liked the new Walter.

  “We’re going to change the game. They almost killed us by simply appearing in the road. If the lantern had broken, we’d all be dead. I’m tired of this bullshit.”

  “So...?” Stephanie grabbed Aaron’s hand, giving it a squeeze.

  He was so focused on Walter that he barely noticed.

  “We’re going to burn this motherfucker down.”

  “Burn what down?” Aaron asked.

  “Follow me.” Walter gave them his back and headed away from the road, working his way through the tall grass.

  Twenty yards from the accident, Aaron found a flashlight that had flown from the car during the crash. Its front end was smashed, the bulb shattered. He threw it into the darkness, feeling his own anger building. They couldn’t catch a break.

  After a few minutes of walking they came across a side road, small enough that it didn’t have any lines painted on the pavement. Walter followed it until he came to a gravel driveway that branched off. A stone enclosure holding a mailbox jutted from the ground.

  They moved down the driveway, the going slow as Christy still hadn’t regained her coordination yet. Stephanie held onto Christy’s arm, helping her keep her balance. Molly walked beside them, eyeing the shadows cast from the lantern.

  “Walt? Where are we going?” Aaron asked. He sped up, coming beside Walter, trying to get a look at his face.

  “To the house at the end of the driveway.”

  “Why?”

  “I already told you – we’re going to use fire to screw with these things. What if they jump out now and make me drop the lantern? We’re all screwed. But if we start setting buildings on fire, what can they do about that?”

  It made sense to Aaron. He wasn’t entirely comfortable with burning down people’s homes, but if they were gone then it didn’t really matter. Fire did seem like a good option. If they could get enough places burning the entire area would be illuminated.

  “What if it brings more people to us? You know, if it works like a signal.” Aaron hoped that Walter was acting out of reason and not emotion. He struggled with seeing his father and he couldn’t imagine the fury Walter felt knowing hi
s child was gone.

  “Good. The more survivors we have together the better.”

  “Not if they’re like the lady at the police station.”

  Walter thought it over for a minute. “That’s a good point, but I think it’s worth the chance. More people mean more lights. If anyone else is left anyway.”

  Behind them, at the end of their light’s range, followed the things that wore their family members like suits. They continued calling to them, imploring the survivors to come with them. Aaron didn’t know how much longer he could listen to it. The more they followed, the better Walter’s fire idea sounded.

  It was mind shattering to hear your father begging you to join him, to help him.

  The driveway ended at a two-car garage. The door on the left was ajar, a white Buick underneath it, half in and half out. The driver was gone.

  Walter placed the lantern on the roof of the car, allowing the light to shine both inside the garage and out. He turned sideways and stepped into the building. Aaron waited behind the vehicle with Stephanie and Christy, listening to Walter rustling through boxes.

  “Is this a good idea?” Stephanie asked.

  “Walt is a smart man – he knows what he’s doing,” Christy said. She held a hand to her temple, wincing at the pain there.

  “Everything else we’ve done has gone to shit. Why not try this?” Aaron said.

  They stood twenty yards behind them.

  Watching.

  Waiting.

  Torturing.

  Walter exited the garage, carrying two gas cans. “Grab the lantern and follow me to the house.” His demeanor had hardened even more.

  Aaron did as he was told and stepped behind Walter, illuminating a sidewalk that led to a large porch wrapped around an aging home.

  Walter paused at the base of the sidewalk and sneered at the things that watched them.

  “Turn this light out, assholes.”

  Chapter 15

  Colonel McKenzie’s brain felt like it was too large for his skull. Pain radiated from his jaw.

  He forced his eyes open, squinting as they adjusted to a light above him. Everything was blurry. After blinking rapidly for a few seconds, things began to focus.

  A dome light.

  Leather seats.

  His hands were secured behind his back.

  He was on his side in the backseat of a large SUV. The memory of being sucker punched by a government-owned gorilla came back to him. He sat up, taking in his surroundings.

  The bald head honcho stood in the headlights, his posse surrounding him. They exchanged heated words, often pointing toward the wall of black. McKenzie craned his neck, searching for where they’d put Miles. He didn’t see him anywhere. Miles might be unconscious in the back of a separate vehicle.

  About half of the men standing in front of the SUV were armed. Even if McKenzie could get out of the car, he’d be gunned down before he made it ten steps.

  Patience.

  If he could hear what they were talking about he might be able to form a plan of some kind.

  He rolled onto his back, bringing his knees to his chest. The cuffs were tight, but not enough to cut off his circulation. He bent his wrists, grabbing the chain and pulling it as high up his wrists as he could. Stretching his arms and shoulders, McKenzie worked the cuffs around the bottom of his shoe. It took almost half a minute, his muscles threatening to cramp from the odd position he had to hold, before they popped free.

  McKenzie sat back up.

  One of the black-suited goons snapped his head around, staring through the windshield at the colonel.

  McKenzie mouthed ‘fuck you’ at him.

  The man flipped him off before turning back to his boss.

  Moving slowly so he wouldn’t garner any more attention, McKenzie leaned against the seat in front of him. He snaked his arms between the seat and the door, feeling for the window controls. His fingers brushed against four buttons arranged in a square shape. He gave the top left button a quick push, hoping the sound wouldn’t be too loud.

  The driver’s side window slid down a quarter of an inch and stopped.

  He waited.

  No one looked his way.

  McKenzie pushed the button again, lowering the window an inch.

  Voices slipped through the opening.

  “—don’t have time to sit around with our dicks in our hands.” Baldie was pointing in someone’s face, his cheeks reddening in anger.

  The crowd shifted around a bit as a tall man with a graying crew cut stepped in front of Baldie. Everyone’s reaction to this man’s presence told the colonel that someone important had arrived. Even Baldie averted his eyes from the man’s piercing gaze. Judging from his appearance, this guy was former military, perhaps a general of some sort.

  “I don’t like it when my emergency line rings this early in the morning, Frank,” he said. “I like it even less when I’m told that an entire fucking town disappeared.” He stared down at Frank, letting his fury sink in.

  “Sir—”

  “Shut up. You will speak when I tell you to speak. This little fuck up has set us back by years. From what I’ve been told, this is a total loss. You spent a decade building that particle collider or atom smasher or whatever the hell you call it, only to lose it all the first time you fire it up? This is incompetence at a whole new level. Shit, I have no idea how we’re going to spin this.”

  He looked at a ‘roided gorilla to his right. “What’s the population of this shithole city?”

  The monster of a man flipped open a notebook. McKenzie was shocked he could read. “About fifteen thousand.”

  “Jesus Christ. Fifteen thousand people vanished into the night. Plus however many eggheads and military you’ve had shipped in from all over the country. How the hell are we going to explain this away?”

  “Sir—”

  “I swear to the Lord and Savior, if you speak again, Frank, I’ll have you shot. I don’t think anyone will notice one more body amongst all this shit.”

  Baldie, otherwise known as Frank, inspected his shoes with great interest. McKenzie wanted to cheer from the backseat. This new player, whoever he was, knew what was going on and would have to be held accountable for this too, but watching him fillet Frank gave McKenzie immense pleasure.

  “You basically dropped a bomb inside of America. There are going to be fucking revolts in the streets. Can you imagine what’s going to happen at eight in the morning when people wake up and check their dumb ass Facebook pages? Fucking right, riots, that’s what.” He paused, still glowering at Frank. “All right, let’s start from the beginning. Tonight was supposed to be the first attempt of Operation Doorway, correct?”

  Frank looked up, mouth open, but didn’t speak.

  “Answer me, fool,” the man said.

  “You said not to speak.”

  “Frank, I’m two seconds away from killing you with my bare hands.”

  Baldie got the message. “We turned on Betsy—the particle collider—on schedule.”

  “Why at night?”

  The man seemed to know remarkably little about the project. Perhaps he approved funds, but didn’t do much in the way of oversight. McKenzie filed it away in case that little tidbit might prove useful later.

  “The power draw. We needed as much extra juice as possible. Keeping a continuous stream going takes an incredible amount of energy. We knew we could only sustain it for a few seconds, even at night.”

  Colonel McKenzie couldn’t make out a few of Baldie’s sentences, but he thought he was getting the gist of it. They needed a lot of power for whatever it was that they were doing.

  “We had a direct feed down to the office. Some of us were afraid that something could go wrong, so we stayed in Washington.”

  The man in charge raised his hand, stopping Frank. “You thought something could go wrong? Why don’t I remember ever reading that in your proposals?”

  “Well, sir, I thought the risk was minimal.”

  �
��Not minimal enough for you to be here though.”

  Frank resumed checking over his shoes.

  “Continue.”

  Frank cleared his throat. “We started getting data readings right away. It was working. The—”

  McKenzie couldn’t hear the next few words because someone coughed.

  “—was sustained. This was a first, sir. It was open, and staying open. Then everything went south. The grid went nuts and Betsy lost power. Everything went silent: our feed, the phone lines, everything. We couldn’t reach General Stroud, Matthews, or anyone.”

  Frank stopped as if he expected a barrage of questions. The man just waited.

  “We started calling random offices on APG and got nothing. Eventually, we pulled up a sat feed. We saw nothing except for a large fire at the power plant. And I mean that literally, we saw nothing. No lights, cars, activity at the gate – nothing. Same with the city. There were a couple of small fires and a few pairs of stationary headlights. We were so desperate that we tried calling the local police. Again, we got nothing. We went mobile. We sent the helo’s overhead, including the one that went down over there.” He pointed at the still burning wreckage.

  “As we were driving up here, we finally heard from someone on post. One of the scientists reached us on a CB radio.”

  “A CB? Who the hell has a CB?”

  “He said he’d climbed into the cab of an abandoned big rig on post. He got a hold of the police department in the neighboring city of Bel Air. They patched him through to us. To be honest, we had a hard time keeping him on track. He spoke ludicrously fast.”

  “And how did this guy survive when no one else did?”

  “Well, sir—”

  “Spit it out, Frank.”

  “He was taking a shit, sir.”

  One of the giants chuckled. His voice rumbled like he was King Kong.

  The boss didn’t laugh. “You must be truly incompetent to joke with me a time like this.”

  “I’m not sir. He said he was sitting on the shitter playing Angry Birds on an iPad when the power went out.”

  “You’re telling me that the lone survivor of this cluster fuck is alive because he was taking a crap?”

  “Yes sir.”

  “And he was playing a stupid video game during a massive experiment that was ten years in the making?”

 

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