The Dark

by Jason Brant

  “Apparently so. Sir.”

  Crew Cut palmed his face with his left hand.

  McKenzie bit his knuckle, fighting hard not to laugh. Was it any surprise that people laughed at the incompetence of government officials?

  “Continue,” the man said, still covering his face.

  “What little intel we have came from him.”

  “Wait a second. You’re leaving out some key information here.” Crew Cut lowered his hand. “You’re telling me that playing a game saved this guy. Why?”

  “Well, that’s a part of what he told us sir.”

  “Fine, keep going.”

  Frank asked one of his cohorts a question that McKenzie couldn’t hear.

  “Scott Tern,” the flunky said.

  “The scientists name is Scott Tern. Astrophysicist.”

  McKenzie wondered why they would have an astrophysicist at an atom smasher. He knew they wanted to open a doorway, but to where? Another planet? A different solar system?

  “The story he told us defied logic. He was in the bathroom when the power went out. All of the power, apparently. Backup systems and all. By the time he got back to the lab he said there was only one other person in there – a female engineer of some sort. We don’t have her name yet. Everyone else had disappeared. He found the woman cradled in the corner, holding a cell phone like it was a flashlight. Tern said he couldn’t get much information from her because she was in a state of shock.”

  “All of the equipment had shut off, but he managed to look over some printouts.” Bald Frank puffed his chest out. “I forced them to install printers so we could have hard copy in case of a system failure.”

  “Congratulations,” Crew Cut said dryly.

  That deflated Frank. “From what he could read he said that the experiment had worked. We’d done it. A sustained, microscopic black hole. Tern told us that a massive power spike crushed the power plant on the post. Our backup systems kicked in then, which are meant to run the computer systems, not the collider. When the collider was shut down the black hole should have evaporated instantly. It didn’t.”

  “How is that possible?”

  “We don’t know. The backups had gone out almost immediately after the main power so there weren’t many readouts after the event. But he said that it looked as if the black hole was drawing power from the other side.”

  “You aren’t speaking my language.”

  “It was being powered by something other than us.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “We don’t know, sir. Tern said that one of the last pieces of information he had reported that it was shrinking, but the point is that it should have disappeared immediately. We don’t know what’s keeping it going.”

  “I’m still waiting to hear how an iPad saved this man’s life.”

  “Well, the explanation he gave us was... less than coherent. Remember, this man was probably in shock and he liked to ramble. A lot. He’d just experienced an incredible fright.”

  Crew Cut pointed at the wall of darkness. “We’re standing before a goddamn empty hole in the earth. Tell me what happened.”

  Frank blew out a loud breath. “He said the darkness took everyone. The bright screen on his iPad kept him in the light. He thinks the darkness is alive.”

  The man stared at Frank as if he’d lost his mind.

  “Tern told us that he tried to get the woman to follow him out of the facility. They were on other sides of the room when the woman stood. He said she dropped her phone and it shattered on the ground. He didn’t see what happened to her, but she screamed. When he shined his light where he’d last seen her, she was gone.”

  Crew Cut shook his head. “And where is this Tern now?”

  “We told him to stay put at the truck with the CB and wait for us to contact him. He babbled about his battery dying so he had to go look for another light. We haven’t heard from him since.”

  “So let me get this story straight. You’re telling me that the program was a success. Except that it overloaded the system and the anomaly you created, that should have disappeared, stayed put. You think that whatever you tapped into is powering it. It might be slowly closing, but you don’t know for certain. When the power went out, everything went dark and the ‘darkness’, as you called it, is alive and a threat to our wellbeing. Does that about sum it up?”

  “I know it sounds crazy but—”

  “Save your breath. I know that we lost a chopper as soon as it crossed into the shadow. Let’s assume that this is alive. Where did it come from?”

  “Sir, what I’ve just told you constitutes all of my knowledge of the situation.”

  “So there is a giant black cloud over the city of Aberdeen, everyone has disappeared, and you don’t have any idea what’s going on?”

  McKenzie rested his head against the seat in front of him. He felt dizzy trying to rationalize the information he’d overhead. Most of what he’d gathered from the drunken fool years ago was fairly accurate. These idiots had no idea what they were doing.

  The question he asked himself now was – what could be done about it?

  “—it came from the black hole.”

  McKenzie tilted his ear toward the window.

  “You think a dark cloud of nothing came from a black hole? That makes sense to you?”

  “Not really, sir, but it’s what we’re working with. A living shadow killing people doesn’t make much sense either.”

  They continued arguing in front of the car.

  “So what do you suggest we do then, Frank?”

  “We’re still working on ideas. If we go on the premise that Tern’s intel is accurate then we need to use light. Right before we lost his transmission he told us that he was seeing things moving around in the dark.”

  “Your plan is to go in there with flashlights? Remind me again what you do to deserve your salary.”

  McKenzie glanced around the inside of the SUV, hoping to find something he could use to his advantage. He had to move slowly, keeping his head stationary so that he wouldn’t draw any attention to himself.

  Keys dangled from the ignition. There were too many armed men surrounding the vehicle for him to drive away right now though. If they dispersed, even for just a few yards, he might have a chance.

  The question he kept coming back to was – where would he go? What would he do?

  He could throw the high beams on and drive into the dark, hoping to find survivors. Perhaps he could drive to the collider and look for answers. Both of those options appeared unpromising though. What the hell did he hope to accomplish? He didn’t even understand how the collider worked, or what they did to create a black hole with it.

  Baldie, though an asshole, had been correct – McKenzie was a grunt. A grunt that now had the full power of the United States government about to come down on him.

  Maybe he could run. Drive home, grab his wife, steal a car, and drive to Canada. McKenzie knew that wouldn’t work but he let the dream linger for a moment before squashing it. There would be no happy ending for him. They were going to lock him up and throw away the key. If he had to guess, they were probably picking up his wife right now.

  He couldn’t abandon her and go on the run. An understanding had formed between them over the years – the only way he would ever leave her was if he died in combat. Period.

  That left him with a lone option – one last battle. He could go headlong into this new, never before seen warzone. There had to be at least one survivor in there somewhere. If he could find them and escort them to safety, he would have spent his last few hours of freedom with honor.

  “—into a cinder. A few square miles of burning rubble should give off enough light to make it look like midday around here.”

  The colonel listened in again.

  “Sir! We can’t drop bombs. We would lose everything. All of our research and equipment. Those printouts that Tern read have untold worth to us. If nothing else, we absolutely have to extract the comput
er systems and hard copy.”

  Of course these assholes were more concerned with their data than the massive loss of life. Who cares about the death of untold numbers of civilians when you might lose some ones and zeros on a hard drive. McKenzie’s blood pressure rose. He balled his fists, wondering if he could get out of the car and land a few punches before they shot him down.

  Crew Cut thought about it for a full ten seconds. “Fine. Send in a team to extract whatever you need. I’ll get on the horn with the president and get the authorization to turn this place into a parking lot. He’s not going to be pleased.”

  Without waiting for a reply, the man headed toward a black Cadillac that was parked behind a row of police cruisers. He stopped and glared back at Frank.

  “And I expect you to go in there with that team.”

  “But sir, I’m not a field agent! I—”

  “You’ll go in there, or I’ll make you disappear.”

  Chapter 16

  The fog slowly dissipated in Christy’s mind.

  Though her thoughts were still fuzzy, she could at least function.

  A massive headache thrummed inside her skull, the pressure building.

  As she watched Walter pour gasoline in front of an open door, she couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. They had all been dealt a horrible series of blows in a night that felt more like a nightmare than a reality. Walter’s pain, however, went to another level that the rest of them couldn’t understand. Though she’d only known him for a short period of time, she wanted to console him.

  The look in his eyes kept her from doing so.

  He’d changed.

  Anger and pain spurred him on.

  Walter emptied the first gas can and tossed it inside the home. He picked up the second one, twisted the cap off, and poured it down the stairs. Creating a trail in the front yard, he worked his way to where Christy and Stephanie stood. Aaron followed him with the lantern, unease on his face.

  “Is this wise, Walt?” Christy asked.

  “Dunno,” he said, placing the can on the ground. “But I’m tired of being a victim to these things. It’s time to fight back. Anyone have a match?”

  Christy pulled the long-necked lighter from her back pocket and handed it to him. She didn’t know how to feel about turning into a pyromaniac, but she did like the thought of fighting back at their tormentors. If they didn’t like light, then a big fire might really piss them off.

  “Are you sure there isn’t anyone in there?” Stephanie asked. She’d stood quietly as Aaron and Walter peppered the house with gasoline, kneading her hands.

  “There aren’t any lights on inside,” Aaron said.

  Walter bent down, his knees creaking, and ignited the fuel. The fire flew along the trail, erupting when it met the puddles on the porch. Heat hit them in waves.

  The night lit up as the aged wood of the house crackled and popped under the flames.

  In less than a minute, the entire front of the home was engulfed. Details of the front yard appeared as the flames grew taller. Christy saw leaves covering the lawn and gnomes by a handful of small bushes that lined the house.

  Paint blistered and peeled from the heat.

  Christy searched the area for signs of them. They’d disappeared – for now.

  Though it had been at least a decade since Christy had stepped inside of a church, she recognized the use of the word Legion. She was fairly certain that demons had called themselves that in the bible. What did that mean? Christy refused to believe that the crazy woman at the police station had been right. They couldn’t be in Hell, could they?

  Suddenly she didn’t feel so certain. From the moment she’d startled awake things only became more confusing.

  Molly licked her shin. Christy crouched beside her old friend and scratched her neck. Her dog wouldn’t be in Hell with her. Feeling Molly’s fur between her fingers grounded Christy. Her furry little buddy had saved her life, twice now, and she’d be damned if she would let anything happen to the old dog.

  Besides, she had two teenagers and a severely depressed old man to take care of.

  Though she knew that others relied upon her, she still struggled with how to go about doing it. Confidence eluded her, as it always had. Christy’s entire life had been one big disappointment.

  She never did what was necessary.

  Never took the next step.

  Year after year she let her friends and family down.

  Let her grandfather down.

  Now her mother was gone, taken by the bastards that taunted her.

  No more.

  Christy grabbed the half-full gas can from the ground and stalked into the garage. She upended the can, dumping its nauseating contents over a work bench.

  She threw the empty container against the far wall and let out a cry.

  Christy screamed for her friends.

  Her mother.

  Herself.

  A case of plastic oil bottles sat on a shelf along the back wall. Grabbing a screwdriver from the bench, she punctured holes through the cardboard case. Black gold trickled out, dribbling along the gray floor.

  She tore the box from its spot on the shelf, dropping it on the growing puddle of oil.

  “Christy?” Stephanie’s voice was small, frightened.

  “I’m fine.”

  Long, cylindrical light bulbs were stacked in the corner – spares for the overhead lights. Christy grabbed one, surprised at how little it weighed, and shattered it off the work bench. Glass and white powder exploded in all directions, covering her pants like a light snow.

  Decades of angst and defeat boiled over, building to a crescendo of violence and destruction. Brimming with rage, Christy swiped her arms across the bench, shoving tools aside.

  They took everything from her.

  Payback time.

  Grabbing a filthy jar from one of the shelves, Christy dumped the nails held within. She scooped up a little gasoline and oil from the growing puddle on the floor. A rag that reeked of grime and sweat was balled up atop a tool chest beside the bench. She grabbed it as she walked past, leaving the garage.

  Christy stuffed the rag into the jar, snarling, embracing her newfound fury. She dipped the jar at the diminishing line of gasoline-fueled fire in the lawn, watching as the dirty glass filled with yellow flame. Holding it before her eyes, she inspected the concoction of filth and fire.

  She threw the jar into the garage.

  The inside of the building erupted.

  The others watched her as she stood before the burning structure.

  “You still with us?” Walter asked.

  “More than ever.”

  They watched as the fires consumed the home and garage, bathing the area in a bright glow. Within twenty minutes, the house became a massive pyre. The flames rose fifty feet in the air, spiraling and swirling into the night.

  The darkness receded around the property, letting them walk freely across the yard. Though it was only temporary, Christy felt like shackles had been removed from her. Her thoughts were clear and concise, her anger focusing her mind.

  The group moved down the driveway, needing to get a decent distance from the fire because of the heat. Facing away from the blaze allowed them to see much further than they had before, noticing that there were many more houses in the surrounding area.

  “Now what?” Aaron asked.

  “More,” Walter said simply. “They can’t get near as long as the fires burn bright.”

  Stephanie shuffled her feet, staring down at them. She’d been uncomfortable from the start.

  “But these are people’s homes. How can we just burn down an entire neighborhood?”

  “They’re gone, Stephanie,” Aaron said. As their visibility grew, Aaron seemed to get more comfortable with Walter’s idea. “If everyone in the world or country or whatever is gone, then what does it matter? If this has only happened in a limited area, then I would rather face the consequences of burning down a few houses than being caught by them
.”

  “I know you’re right, but still. Even if these people are dead, their belongings are still there: all of their pictures, diaries, and memories. We’re just erasing them.”

  Christy put her hand on Stephanie’s shoulder. She understood the young lady’s hesitation, but her desire to keep these people safe overrode any sentimental feelings she had. Possessions or not, they needed more light.

  “We’re in survival mode now, Steph. There’s no time to worry about those kinds of things. Also, don’t ever think that we’ve wronged all of these poor people. They did this, not us.”

  Walter watched them in silence. Though Christy had a new determination, Walter’s seemed to dwarf her’s.

  “I just don’t think I can do it.” A watery sheen covered Stephanie’s eyes.

  Aaron looked uncomfortable at the prospect of his crush crying. He put a hand on her shoulder and gave her a few pats. The poor attempt at consolation reminded Christy of just how little teenage boys understood about women.

  Christy stepped forward to give the girl a hug when Molly went nuts.

  The dog barked furiously at a group of trees that lined the end of the lawn. She stalked around on her toes, hackles up, lips curled.

  Everyone spun in the direction her snout pointed. Walter dropped his bag to the ground and dug through it, pulling his flare gun free.

  “Molly, quiet,” Christy said, squinting at the group of trees. She couldn’t see anything.

  The German shepherd stopped barking, resorting to a low, throaty growl.

  “Show yourself,” Walter hollered. He held the flare gun in both hands, pointing it at the ground in front of him.

  A dim glow appeared from behind a thick maple tree, showing the outline of a small man peaking around the trunk.

  “Don’t shoot! I’m human!”

  How odd that sounded to Christy. The man didn’t yell out that he was unarmed, but that he was a human being.

  “Come into the light.” Walter still pointed the gun at the ground.

  “I will, just don’t shoot me! I’ve got enough crazy shit going on without being shot by Grizzly Adams!”

  Aaron bent down and picked up a large rock from beside the driveway, shielding it behind his leg. Stephanie stood by his shoulder, watching the tree line in fear.