The Dark Trilogy 02 - Into the Dark

by Patrick D'orazio

  For a time after that, things were a blur. Michael worked behind them, stepping up and jamming his spear-like weapon down at an attacker here and there. Megan relied heavily on Ben, though she did jab at a few of the monsters arrayed before her. It was not clear if she did any damage, since faces swam in and out of her vision as they smashed against the RV. One grabbed at her weapon, a hoe with a sharpened blade, and she nearly toppled over the side of the RV. Ben pulled her back as she relinquished the weapon to the ghoul below.

  “Be careful. There’re more weapons, but only one of you.”

  He smiled and turned back to stab at another contorted creature. Megan slumped to her ass and sat looking out at the trees. More infected were coming. She had maybe killed a couple, but saw the others killing many more—dozens, perhaps. There were plenty of targets for everyone. She glanced at Jason and George and watched them for a moment before her eyes gradually slid over to Jeff. Everyone was standing, so she barely caught a glimpse of him as he thrust his weapon into the crowd below.

  “Pick up another weapon! Move it!”

  Megan swiveled her head to the right and saw Cindy glaring at her. The tattooed girl grinned maniacally as she raised her own bloody pike, pointing it in Megan’s direction. Megan inched backwards, and Cindy laughed.

  When a hand came down on her shoulder, Megan nearly jumped out of her skin. She yelped and spun around. Michael was standing behind her. Without a word, he thrust the pitchfork into her hands. Before she could react, he was gone, moving on down the line. Megan spared one last glance at Cindy, who displayed her teeth like a shark before returning to her gruesome task.

  The stench drifting up from the mass of bodies was like syrup in Jeff’s mouth, it was so thick. He had ruptured countless bodies, and the toxic fumes that billowed up from them were overwhelming. He had seen several of the others vomit over the side, but had avoided following suit thus far. The heat was making everything worse as the sun beat down on the survivors, the infected, and the festering corpses beneath their feet.

  Looking out at the endless flow of bodies crashing through the woods, he heard more echoing howls of glee. The sound of weak limbs slapping against the side of the trailer made him nervous, but he could barely feel the vibration beneath his feet.

  As he continued with his grim task, he could not help but wonder who the monsters were in this little game they played with the dead. Despite his morbid curiosity, Jeff thrust downward once again, this time striking a green-faced woman who looked like some sort of fungal growth had sprung up all over her face and shoulders. It was not much of a novelty; he had seen similar signs with other infected. The mutated shovel he was wielding connected with a wet crunching sound, as if a giant crusty blister had popped. A mixture of pus and blood gushed around the entry wound, and Jeff wondered idly why the fluid was not green as well. He jolted the weapon, driving it farther into the new mouth that had formed only about an inch above the woman’s original one. The second thrust did it, and the top half of the head bobbed backward, separated enough from the rest of the skull that the dead eyes, which had been filled with so much pain and anger just a moment before, switched off like a plug had been pulled, and she sank beneath the waves of flesh that surrounded her.

  The ground beneath the survivors was a blender of swirling activity as bodies pressed against the metal walls as if being sucked into a maelstrom, appearing and then disappearing, only to pop up elsewhere in the crowd a few moments later. Bodies twisted and contorted for the best position, but then a gore-slick stave from above would dive beneath the surface, spearing another prize. With a successful strike, a body would fall beneath the surface and the others around it would shift, squeezing into the small amount of space left open by the departure of another rotten meat bag. Jeff imagined he could hear the crunch of infected bones being pummeled underfoot as more and more fell to the wrath of the living, but he knew it was impossible for him to hear such an insignificant sound.

  Looking across the top of the RV, Jeff saw how the endless cycle of killing had taken its toll. Only Ben still seemed near full strength, thrusting his weapon into the crowd over and over. Frank looked terrified even though his partner, Cindy, seemed highly enthusiastic about what they were doing. The others were moving sluggishly, stabbing and killing at a pace far slower than that at which they had started. They desperately needed to take a break. As he continued to scan the others, he noticed someone was missing from the group.

  * * *

  Michael was satisfied with how the battle was going and decided to make a circuit around the top of the RVs. He could see other shapes moving out in the distance, some from the east and west. Not a huge amount, at least not yet. But what he was curious about was to the south, on the opposite side of the camp from where they were fighting. He circled to the west, spot checking as he moved carefully across the roofs. When he stopped on top of his own RV, the outer wall of which faced southeast, he glanced down and did a double take.

  “What the… ?”

  The dead were pouring out of the woods from all directions on the southern side of the camp—nearly as many as they were facing from the north. Michael’s heart raced, and he could hear the blood pounding in his ears as he saw them filing endlessly through the dense woodlands. There was more distance between the trees and the RVs back here than where the group was fighting to the north, and yet the flat, open area was already filling up. When the huge pack of ghouls saw him standing on top of the RV, they moaned in unison and shambled even faster toward him.

  Michael shook his head. Where had these come from? There was nothing to the south of the camp on any maps, just a shitload of farmland and back roads. All the population of Manchester should be coming from the north and east. So what the hell was going on? As he looked down, one of the ghouls slapped the side of his RV, and he resisted the urge to pull the M16 off his back and put a hole in its skull. Instead, he ran back to the others.

  * * *

  Jeff looked to see if Michael had climbed down into the courtyard. When all he could see was Lydia, Ray, and the children, he scanned the tops of the other RVs and spied the leader running across the rooftops toward them.

  Jeff watched him run, curious what he was doing. Michael skidded to a halt next to Frank and Cindy, but was calling to Ben, who was nearby. As Ben turned and they began to speak, Jeff crept toward them.

  When Ben pushed Michael out of the way and took off across the RV rooftops, Jeff dropped his weapon and walked at a quicker pace toward Michael.

  “There’s… there’s a lot more of them. They’re all around… ” The leader’s eyes were wide with fear, and he looked dazed.

  Cindy finally noticed her boyfriend standing behind her. She glanced dismissively at Jeff and moved next to her man. Michael swiveled his head to her, and for the first time, Jeff saw a spark of nervousness in Cindy’s eyes as she saw the look on Michael’s face.

  “What’s going on?” She let her weapon clatter to the roof and reached for him.

  Michael repeated his disjointed assessment of what he had seen. Jeff ignored him and Cindy, instead watching Ben bound around the curved walls of the compound. He had stopped on top of Lydia’s RV and was looking below. Jeff could see his shoulders sag. Moments later, he was returning.

  “Pull yourself together, asshole!”

  Jeff turned at the sharp sound of Cindy’s voice. She was standing toe to toe with Michael, her hands gripping the front of his jacket as everyone else looked on.

  “Because if you freak out now, you’ll lose control of these pricks, guaranteed.” Cindy leaned in until her eyes were nearly level with Michael’s.

  Ben came to a halt a few feet away. Cindy looked at him and stepped back, her eyes still on fire. Michael seemed to realize that everyone was watching him, and his face went red. Jeff couldn’t tell at first if it was from embarrassment or anger. Moments later, he knew the truth.

  “All right, everyone listen up!” Michael snarled. “There are more of these bast
ards to the south. We’re going to need to spread out along the wall, so we can thin them out. I’m going to put a single team on each—”

  “What the hell are you talking about?” Ben shouted at him.

  Michael whipped around.

  “You’re kidding, right?” Ben moved closer, his hands still gripping the wrecking bar of a weapon he had used against the ghouls.

  “Now why would I be kidding, Ben? What possible reason would there be for me to kid at a time like this?”

  “I don’t know, but if you think we can still survive by poking at these bastards with as many as there are surrounding us, you’ve gone off the deep end.”

  Ben stood with the weapon at his side, his body relaxed. His words were a casual assessment, as calm as ever.

  The others began to talk, their panic rising above the wailing cries of the rotters down below.

  “Everyone shut up! I can’t hear myself think!” The voices died down, and Michael shut his eyes for a moment.

  When he opened them, he focused on Ben. “So what would you suggest we do? Huh? Any bright ideas? I mean, didn’t you agree with me before? We can’t just drive out of here, now can we? Not with so many of these bastards out there, right?” Michael paused, his head swiveling to capture everyone within his line of sight. “But if we fight. IF WE FIGHT—” He elevated his voice to overcome the mounting protests. “WE MIGHT STAND A CHANCE!”

  “Boss, are you sure? I mean, we could still try to get the hell outta here.” Frank’s words sounded panicky. All the bluster and anger had gone out of him. He was looking at the other faces: Ben, George… even Jeff, in the hopes that they would back him up.

  Michael sighed and stiffened his shoulders as he took a deep breath. He appeared calm when he spoke. “You want to get out of here, huh?” He surveyed the crowd. “You all want to leave, right? So how do you propose we do that?” He moved to the edge and pointed down at the desperate hands grabbing for him. “Those dumb fucks don’t appear to be all that good at climbing, and I seriously doubt they can manage to topple fifteen goddamned tons of steel. So what makes you think we’re better off trying to leave? Please, someone enlighten me!”

  “Because they will get in.”

  Michael’s eyes shot daggers at Jeff.

  “No they can’t! Or didn’t you just hear me?” The leader moved toward Jeff, his pupils pinpoints as he ticked off his reasons. “They can’t crawl underneath; there’s barely any clearance. They can’t squeeze in between; we made sure the RVs were wedged tight against one another. They can’t climb, as I’ve already pointed out, so it’s not like they’re getting over the top. So tell me, Jeff. Please, I’m begging you. How are they going to get in?”

  Jeff did not budge as Michael bore down on him. He was too tired, too exhausted to be afraid of the man anymore.

  “They won’t need to climb over the top. Soon enough, they’ll be tumbling over the walls, no matter how many we kill.”

  Michael stared at him, his expression a mix of disbelief and disdain.

  “So let me guess… they’ll, what? Form pyramids and boost each other up?”

  “No need.” Jeff moved toward the edge, aware that one gentle push from Michael would send him toppling down into the crowd. But he had to get his point across. “The more we kill, the more bodies fall to the ground.” He glanced down below. “We’re only killing a small number, but the bodies are all piling up next to the wall.”

  Michael bellowed with laughter. “So let me get this straight: You think our kills will act like a giant stepladder for those things? Oh that’s rich.”

  Jeff smiled feebly. “It’s not just the ones we kill, Michael.” He gestured toward the crowd. “Take a closer look.”

  After glaring at Jeff for a few moments, Michael followed the other man’s eyes down into the crowd.

  “See how some of them pop to the surface and then disappear again?”

  “So what?” Michael countered. “I’m getting really tired of your bullshit observations, Jeff.”

  “They’re crushing each other underfoot.”

  Michael looked back down. “What do you mean? They’re attacking one another?” His expression was skeptical.

  “No, they’re pressing so hard against the trailer that the ones in front are being sucked down beneath the others. They’re not attacking each other; they’re just doing everything within their power to get to us, even if it means crushing everyone in their way.”

  Michael opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He watched as a man whose facial skin dangled like a second chin below his jaw was smashed repeatedly against the metal skin of the motor home. He grabbed and scratched at the side of the RV, but within seconds, the pathetic wretch was dragged underneath another ghoul, an obese woman who did not even look as she pushed down on his head. Other arms moved forward, grabbing his shoulders and pressing the faceless ghoul down even farther. The rotting man sank under the morass of spongy bodies until he disappeared entirely.

  “It doesn’t matter.” Michael shook his head. “We can draw them away from this spot, all around the periphery of the camp. Even if what you say is true, when we spread them out, they won’t be able to pile up.”

  Jason chose that moment to speak up. “Then won’t they just get in from even more places? Ben’s RV is the only one with the windows covered up, right?”

  Michael’s eyes darted to the boy. The leader had a shocked look on his face. Jason stared back at him, the admiration he had shown the man the day before completely gone, replaced with something that more closely resembled loathing.

  Cindy rushed past Michael, practically charging at the boy. “Who said the little snot nose could speak?” she snarled. She stopped short as George stepped in front of Jason. Her claws were bared, and she looked at the middle-aged man without an ounce of fear in her eyes. When he didn’t back down, she glared at everyone else.

  “You all better start listening to Michael right fucking now.” The low hum of Cindy’s malevolent voice cut through the nervous chatter that had started back up amongst the group. “Because last I checked, he was still in charge.” She pointed at Jeff. “Not you.” The words dripped with contempt. She turned and pointed at Ben next. “And not you either.”

  She stepped next to Michael. Picking up her rifle, which had been lying near her feet, she held it stiffly in her arms and dared anyone to dispute her claim. Frank hesitated for a split second and swallowed hard before moving next to her and Michael.

  Jeff looked around at everyone. No one seemed willing to speak up, not even Ben. He knew Cindy was crazy, but the idea of staying on the roof as an infected horde that numbered in the thousands surrounded them on all sides was pure insanity. He sighed as he realized it was once again up to him to take a stand.

  “Cindy, it doesn’t make one bit of difference who’s in charge. If we stay up here, we’re dead.”

  Cindy screamed in a rage at Jeff’s words and pointed her rifle at him. Michael reacted quickly, batting the barrel skyward just as she pulled the trigger. A shot rang out, and Megan screamed as almost everyone ducked or dropped to their knees.

  “You stupid bitch!” Michael’s fist shot out and connected with Cindy’s cheek, knocking her flat on her back. Her head rebounded off the metal roof, and she lay still. Michael wrenched the rifle from her hands.

  “What the fuck were you thinking?” he yelled at her, the butt of the rifle pointed at her face. He looked tempted to drive it into her nose, but froze. Cindy, dazed but conscious, stared up at him with raw hatred in her eyes.

  Michael took a deep breath and looked around. Everyone was watching him, horrified at what had just happened. Jeff was stunned at Cindy’s reaction to his words, but equally as shocked that Michael had saved him. He watched from his knees as the brooding leader’s expression changed from rage to exasperation.

  “So you all want to leave?” he repeated his question from earlier.

  Heads rose up, surprise etched on faces as everyone heard the words sp
at out between clenched teeth. A few of the survivors replied with timid nods. Shaking his head in frustration, Michael moved back toward the edge of the RV and glared angrily at the infected multitude.

  “Fine then. Go down below. If we’re leaving, we need to move fast.”

  Chapter 21

  Jeff stood and pulled Megan up next to him, giving her a hug as relief poured over the two of them. He saw Cindy rubbing her cheek where Michael had struck her and his smile faded. She spotted him looking, spat a wad of blood in his direction and smiled, her crimsoned teeth reminding him of the creatures down below.

  He watched Michael move next to her and extend his hand. Cindy stared at it, and her eyes narrowed. It looked to Jeff as if she were debating whether to grasp the appendage or tear into it with her teeth. When Cindy sullenly reached up, Michael hoisted her to her feet. They glared at one another until he turned to address the group.

  “Move it, people! We’re all getting into my RV. Grab as many supplies as you can. We have to get rolling as quickly as possible.”

  As everyone scrambled down the ladder, he shouted after them.

  “You have one minute, and I do mean ONE minute!”

  Lydia had been watching from below, huddled with the children next to the table on which Ray lay. Jeff smiled at her, and she returned it weakly as Megan ran to explain what they were planning. The gray-haired woman’s eyes widened, and she nodded then rushed to her RV.

  She flew past Jeff as he moved toward the children. Megan was talking to them, and he looked at Ray, who was conscious again, his face ghostly pale. Jeff could see the veins beneath his skin, and his irises were almost completely milky white. His breathing was shallow, but he appeared to be cognizant of what was going on.

  “So we’re leaving?” he wheezed.