Chasing the Dark: The Demon Inside

by A. P. Texan

  “Dad, I don’t know if I can leave you behind.”

  “I know, it will be tough, but you have to. I don’t want to leave you behind either which means, let’s not get separated.”

  The rest of the drive is relatively quiet as we cruise along in the old pick-up truck.

  0900 14 September 2021

  South Shore Lake Okeechobee, Florida

  Roger had been walking for a little over a day. He abandoned his shopping cart yesterday after one of the front wheels went wobbly. He was able to get most everything he needed into the large hiking pack that he found at an outdoor shop he stopped at before he left town. It was a little mom and pop shop on the edge of the nature preserve. They gladly accepted his cash after he explained his situation. They gave him a good quality backpack, an MSR water filter system, two Nagelene water bottles, a Jetboil camp stove with four fuel canisters, a MORA Garbeg knife, a guide to edible plants, a titanium cook set, and the holy grail of backpacking, a lightweight hammock with mosquito netting. He is all set, except for a gun of any kind. But he'll just have to do the best he can. Traveling, up to this point, hasn’t been bad. Luckily for him, it’s late September, so the weather is cooler, and the humidity is lower than usual.

  The roads have nearly been abandoned but not entirely. He's run into a few other people walking, a couple on bikes, and a group of loud and obnoxious rednecks in an old pick-up truck. They tried to run him off the road, which is probably why his shopping cart went wobbly. Last night, he stopped in a grove of Sycamore trees on a back-water bayou. The hammock came in handy, considering the large number of gators in the area and the large swarms of flying insects, buzzing around him all night. If all of this gets back to normal in a year or two, he will definitely look up the owners of the shop and repay them for their immense kindness.

  Shortly after sunrise, he packed up his hammock, rinsed his face in the water left over in his bottle and used the MSR to fill them back up. He shouldered the heavy pack and got back on the road. That was about two and a half hours and two miles ago.

  According to his map, just ahead a few miles is the town of Clewiston. He decides it is probably best at this time to try to avoid population centers as much as possible, so he decides to move off the road and take up the Okeechobee Scenic trail. This is a developed hiking and biking trail that circumnavigates the whole lake. He can stay on this trail until he gets to the northwest side and then move back to using the highways to continue his trip north. Also, according to his map, there is a public access boat ramp near here that will give him an opportunity to checkout some abandoned vehicles for supplies or maybe even a weapon of some kind.

  As he approaches the area containing the boat ramp, he slips off the trail into some tall grass, next to a small electrical substation. He slips off the shoulder straps of the pack, sets it down and takes a knee next to it. He wants to observe the parking area for a few minutes before moving on. The EMP hit early in the morning so most boaters were either in bed or on their way to the lake to launch their boats. He notices a newer model Ford pickup, sitting in the lot with a tandem axle boat trailer hooked to it. To get to it, he will need to cross a short bridge over the canal. The truck is another hundred yards or so passed what appears to be a cinderblock building. It’s most likely a public restroom or maintenance facility. Looking around, he doesn’t see anyone,

  “Is it worth the risk?” He mutters to himself.

  If he is caught out in the open, he wouldn’t have anywhere to run. Not that he could run very far anyways, the heavy pack and the hours of walking he has already done, pretty much eliminates that idea. However, this could be a good place to take a short break to refill his water bottles as well as get a bite to eat and rest, in the shade of the trees surrounding the parking lot.

  Roger starts talking to himself, “Decisions, decisions. Is it worth the risk? Possible supplies in the truck, maybe a pistol or rifle of some kind. Versus being caught out in the open with nowhere to go or hide should things go south.”

  Without giving it anymore thought he gets to his feet shoulders the pack and heads across the parking lot at a light jog. He gets to the cinderblock building, which turns out to be a public restroom, and takes a break leaning against the side of the building the painted concrete cool against the sweat slicked skin of his arms. He can see the truck better now and his hopes begin to rise as he sees multiple decals on the back window for firearm manufacturers. From where he stands, he can make out a sticker for Glock, H&K, and Sig. If this guy carries firearms with him, then he most likely has his carry pistol on his person out on the lake. If he carries a truck gun, then it is probable that he left it in the truck.

  Roger begins to scan the parking lot from his place against the building. He is looking for two things, one being anyone around there watching him, and two is there something laying around he can break a truck window with. Not seeing anything in the immediate area, he decides to walk around the building and take a look.

  On the back side of the building is a door with a sign on it that says. “WARNING AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY”. Checking the handle, the door is, of course, locked. Roger pulls the MORA Garberg off his belt and slips the blade between the door and frame at hasp level and in just a few minutes, he has the door jimmied open.

  Inside the small room, it’s dark. With only the light filtering in from the open doorway and a small window set high on the back wall. Organized neatly around the room, are cleaning supplies and cases of toilet paper, most likely used to maintain the restrooms for the guys launching boats and families picnicking in the area. In one corner is a large mop sink; The kind with a shallow basin set into the floor and brackets on the wall that mops can be put into and left to dry. Next to that, set into the back wall, is a row of shelves and on that shelf is a Husky Brand two drawer toolbox. Opening the toolbox, Roger finds an assortment of tool fittings, O-rings and a nice twelve-inch pipe wrench, everything someone would need to do minor repairs on sinks and toilets.

  Roger slips the pipe wrench into his belt and then looks for the trash bags. Then on a shelf with sprays and cleaners he finds what he is looking for; one box of the large, heavy contractor trash bags and next to it, a box of smaller kitchen size bags. Roger takes four of the large bags and stuffs them into his pack then grabs two of the smaller bags. He opens up both bags and places one inside the other then takes a half dozen rolls of toilet paper, he takes the cardboard tube out of each one smashes them as flat as possible and drops them into the trash bags and then places those into his pack. He leaves the small room, letting the door close and lock behind him and takes another scan of the parking lot before moving towards the truck.

  Upon arrival at the truck, Roger takes one more look around as he draws the pipe wrench from his belt. Not seeing anyone, he swings it at the driver’s window, smashing the tempered safety glass into tiny squares and showering the leather interior of the truck. Dropping the wrench, he quickly reaches into the interior and unlocks the driver’s door. Hoping the EMP knocked out the security system he opens the door. When no alarm sounds, he lets out a long breath; he was not even aware he was holding.

  Although this truck is a newer year model, it is still pretty much the same as his truck back home in Grapevine, so he quickly sets to searching. The risk at being in the open and breaking into this truck was definitely worth the reward. Under the back seat, set into its custom gun box and cut foam is an AR Pistol with an EOTech holographic sight. Alongside the pistol, in their own cut outs are a two-point sling, four fully loaded magazines, and what appears to be a suppressor of some kind.

  Not wanting to push his luck much further and praising his good fortune, Roger quickly grabs the magazines and sling and stuffs them into his pockets, picks up the weapon and quickly jogs back towards the trail. Now out of sight, he can get things more organized. As he is crossing back over the small bridge, he hears what sounds like an outboard motor however this one is barely running, coughing and spitting like a COPD patient tryin
g to run a marathon. Just as he crosses the bridge and drops back down into the tall grass, a large bass boat comes into view. This would be the size boat for that tandem axle trailer and the color schemes match. Again, thanking his good fortune, he just lays in the grass to let his breathing and heart rate come back to normal. Plus, if he stands up now, he will be easily spotted by the two guys in the boat that is now pulling up to the dock next to the boat ramp.

  “Well Bill, I sure am glad you had those spare fuses and crap on here or we never would have made it back.” One guy says.

  “Yeah, I didn’t think I would need them with this new boat, and almost didn’t put them on. Hell, of a maiden voyage though. I tell you, when I get back into town, I am taking this thing back to the dealer and raising hell. Absolutely no reason at all the systems should have fried at the same time like that, and the motor would barely run above an idle. For forty thousand dollars you would think quality control would be a little better.” Bill replies.

  “These guys have no clue what’s going on. They must have spent the last three days repairing the boat and traveling across the lake to get back.” Roger whispers to himself.

  The first voice reaches Roger’s ears again.” Yeah, and I expect some compensation from them for my phone. Whatever they screwed up that caused the short, also fried both our phones. This is ridiculous.”

  Having heard enough and now that the men had their backs to him as they walked towards the truck. Roger jumps to his feet and jogs up the trail to put as much distance between the men and himself knowing they were about to get much, much angrier when they reach the Ford pickup.

  0930 14 September 2021

  Lake Worth Texas

  At the end of Highway 199, where it meets Loop 820, is the small town of Lake Worth. The towns namesake is the three thousand nine-hundred-acre reservoir that sits near the town. Our path to the armory will cross two bridges and go through the heart of the town. Other than the actual recon of the facility, this will be the most dangerous part of the trip. Being fully aware of this, we are both on high alert.

  We cross through the outlying residential neighborhoods of town and notice we see no one around.

  “Dad, this seem a little strange to you, its nine o’clock in the morning and there is not a single person anywhere. We are only four days into this, and everything feels deserted. It is kind of eerie.”

  “I was just thinking the same thing, where is everyone?”

  As we approach the first bridge, I pull the truck over to the side of the road put it in park and kill the engine.

  “Now that looks strange and out of place.” I say as I point to the bridge.

  About halfway across the bridge is an assortment of vehicles as well as construction barricades crossing the bridge, blocking access in both directions.

  “Charles, dig in my pack and get me my binoculars, por favor.”

  Charles digs around my pack, pulls out my binoculars and hands them over to me.

  Looking through them, I tell him what I see. “Looks like we are too late to hit the armory, either that or somebody looted the JRB. Behind the cars, I see someone manning what looks like a 240B light machine gun, and if I’m not mistaken that is a fifty cal., in the back of a pickup truck. Here, take a look.”

  I hand the binoculars over to him and he looks. “What in the heck is going on in this little town? They look like they are ready for World War Three over there. What do you want to do?”

  “Well, we got three choices” I say “We could go up there and ask what’s going on and take the chance of getting cut in half by the two-forty, or the Ma Deuce. Our second option is we could turn around and try to find another way around the lake, or we could just head back to the farm.”

  “I personally vote for heading back to the farm” he replies, “If they got that much hardware, they aren’t letting anyone through and if they are trying to keep people out, I’m sure they have the other routes blocked as well.”

  “My thoughts exactly, makes sense why we haven’t seen anyone else, they have pulled the old medieval tactic and pulled everyone inside the castle walls and shut the gate. With a town of just five thousand people, it makes sense. Okay, let’s get headed back. There is plenty to do there anyways.”

  I start the old Ford back up and make a U-turn in the middle of the highway and start back towards the farm.

  “Well, I hope Nick and Robert have better luck in Decatur.” I say out loud, to no-one in particular.

  “Yeah, food is going to start getting scarce”

  The rest of the drive back is quiet with us both lost in our own thoughts.

  “I’ve got an idea; we need to build a smoker.” I explain, “We can slaughter one of the older heifers and smoke and dry the meat. If we do it right, it will stay good for at least a few months. This will add to our storage, without us wasting any meat. If we do it right, where we eat one pound of pre-dried meat per person per day, that will add much needed calories and will give us at least a month of food per person. In addition, we can boil down the bones and get a high calorie broth out of that as well.”

  “That is a good idea. How are you planning on making the smoker?”

  “I’m thinking more like a smoke house. We can use the tin and lumber from the old pole barn. We use that to make a small building with a fire pit in the middle. We hang the meat, build a small, smoky fire and whallah! A smokehouse. If we wanted to do it properly, we would dig a tunnel into it with the fire at the other end, but I think this way will work just fine”

  1100 14 September 2021

  The Farm

  “We pull into our little compound of buildings and park the truck in what is becoming our motor pool. “We also need to think about restroom facilities, but I think I got an idea for that as well, but I need to talk to Calvin about it. Why don’t you go check out the pole barn and see how hard that will be to tear apart and I’m going to go find Calvin” I say as we are climbing out of the truck and grabbing our gear.

  He nods his head and moves off towards the pole barn leaving his bag in the truck. In case we need to leave in a hurry, at least our bags are packed. I decide to leave mine as well.

  I find Calvin inside the barn that has turned into home. “Calvin, my man, what’s up. You headed over to Jimmy’s?”

  “What are you doing back? We didn't expect to see you until tomorrow sometime.”

  “Lake Worth is shut down from the 199 bridge. They built a barricade across both sides and are manning it with belt feed machine guns. We saw at least one 240B and one Ma-Deuce. I didn’t want to push our luck and see what was going on, so we turned around and came back. I’m guessing someone in town works at the armory and had keys for the arms room. That or they work at JRB and had access to that kind of fire power.”

  His look of shock is exactly how Charles and I looked when we saw it. “What the hell, why would they do that?”

  “When we were coming into town before we got to the bridge, we noticed there was absolutely no-one around. The streets were clear, and nobody was in their yards. So, what I am thinking, is someone in town had a pretty good idea of what’s going on and they pulled everyone into town. Like circling the wagons or pulling the town into the castle walls.” I explain.

  “With a town that size it is probably a pretty good idea. With the trucks from the armory, they could get everybody’s supplies and centrally supply the whole town and keep it defended.”

  “Yep, that is exactly what Charles and I thought. So back to plans here, I got a couple ideas to run past you. First, I want to make a smoke house. It will help us preserve meat so we can make sure that what we have can be used more efficiently. Second, we need to think about latrines. At the house you have your septic, which will work great, if we can continue to supply you with water. But out here we have no facilities.”

  “Okay Chase, you’re the thinker what do you have in mind?”

  “For the smoke house, I suggest we pull the pole barn apart. Use the tin from the r
oof, as well as whatever we can scavenge from the junk piles for the walls. We can use the lumber from the pole barn for the structure. Then we simply build a small smokey fire inside it.”

  “Let me stop you there. If you build the fire inside, you will most likely end up with a smoke explosion. Too many combustible gasses will build up in there and then boom. Let’s build it as you described but we will build a fire box on the outside with a flue that feeds into the building. What do you have in mind for facilities?”

  “That one is going to be a little more difficult. I think we should use the tractor to dig a large trench. Then fill the trench about halfway with the concrete foundation piers you’ve got stacked up. This will be our runoff field. We need to find some four-inch PVC to feed into this. We then, fashion some kind of toilet seat over a hole that feeds into the PVC. Whenever someone uses the restroom, they pour a bucket of water down the hole and it will flush it down into the drainage field. I’m just worried about ground water contamination.”

  “I like that plan.” He responds “The well is about two-hundred feet deep so that should give plenty of filtration before it hits the ground water. I would also suggest that we make up some lye and pour five to ten gallons down there once a week or so just to keep everything cleaned up.”

  “I sent Charles to the pole barn to see how much work that would be so I guess we can get that knocked out first. When are you headed to Jimmy’s?”

  “We were just getting ready to load up, you want to come with?”