Dark Days (Book 1): Collapse

by Lukens, Mark

  It was now or never. Ray slipped out the door and closed it softly. A second later he heard Mike locking the door from the inside.

  CHAPTER 30

  Ray hurried down the walkway with his golf club in one hand and the kitchen knife in the other. They weren’t much in the way of weapons, but they were all he had right now. His footsteps were quiet in the eerie silence of the condo complex. He still hadn’t seen any rippers, and he hadn’t seen any of the other people who were holed up in their condos across the courtyard. Maybe some of them had left during the night. Maybe some of them had turned into rippers or died. Or maybe some of them had killed themselves—like Kim had.

  He got to the end of the walkway, to the breezeway area. He peeked around the corner and stared down the long, wide tunnel of concrete. No rippers in sight. The breezeway was definitely big enough for him to drive his SUV through it and into the courtyard—it even looked like it was made for that. Maybe utility vehicles came back here from time to time to work on the lawn or the pool.

  Or they used to. Never again.

  It seemed like such a long way to the other end of the breezeway. He needed to hurry, but he would have to be quiet, his footsteps might echo.

  After a deep breath, Ray hurried down the breezeway, staying close to the block wall. He got to the other end and stopped at the corner for just a moment, looking around. He spotted two rippers across the street, prowling like animals close to a building, but their attention was on something at the other end of the building they were in front of. The street was littered with dead bodies, and pieces of dead bodies, flesh smeared along the road from the tanks and military trucks. A murder of crows pecked at the stringy remains in a few areas, taking flight when two other rippers got too close, squawking as they flew away.

  Ray made himself wait a few more seconds, listening. He didn’t hear any vehicles farther down the street, no cars or trucks, or military patrols, and thankfully, no airplanes right now.

  His SUV was parked on the other side of the parking lot underneath the large metal awning, backed into the parking spot. The truck looked untouched from where he stood; the front tires were still inflated and the windshield was still intact. Maybe no one had stolen anything out of his truck yet.

  After the two rippers across the street disappeared around the corner of the building, Ray crossed the parking lot quickly to his SUV. At least he had the cover of the awning, but he could still be spotted by the other rippers on the street. He got to his vehicle and held the knife and golf club in one hand while he dug his keys out of his pants pocket. He pressed the button on the fob to unlock the door, and the clunking sound of the locks sounded so loud in the silence, like the noise had echoed out into the street.

  He opened the door and slid inside, throwing the knife on the passenger floorboard and the golf club into the back seat. He saw that the back was still full of the boxes of supplies they had taken from their house. Blankets and pillows were still in the back seat.

  It took a few seconds for his shaking hand to get the key into the ignition. He waited just a second, and then he twisted the key. The SUV started right up, the motor sounded like a jetliner to him under the awning. Surely the sound of his SUV starting up would alert those two rippers he’d just seen across the street. And any others nearby.

  Because it was almost dark, the headlights came on automatically when Ray turned the truck on. He shut the headlights of as quickly as he could, hoping none of the rippers out on the street had seen the flash of light. He turned around in the driver’s seat, staring out through the rear window.

  The two rippers he’d seen a moment ago were bolting across the street towards the condo parking area. But there were more of them coming—he could hear the calls and cries of the other rippers.

  He shifted into drive and gunned the gas, turning the wheel and driving right towards the breezeway. He sped through the wide tunnel to the other end, the engine’s noise even louder in the tunnel. He turned left at the end of the breezeway, his eyes darting back and forth across the courtyard, but he still didn’t see anyone yet.

  He drove over a small row of shrubs and onto the large grassy area of the courtyard, driving down to Emma’s condo. He swung around in a big circle and parked right in front of Emma’s door so the SUV would be pointed in the right direction—the way back out.

  And then he saw a pack of rippers pouring out of the breezeway and running towards the SUV. There were at least twelve or fifteen of them, men and women, different ages, some carrying crude weapons, others just running towards him with their bare hands clenched into claws. They were yelling and screeching.

  Ray got out of his truck, leaving the motor running and slamming the driver’s door shut. He ran around the truck to open the passenger door and the back door on that side.

  He’d told Mike to keep the door to the condo closed and locked until he came back and knocked on the door, but for once Ray was glad that Mike had disobeyed his orders; Mike already had Emma’s door open, standing there in the doorway with the bag of food in his hands that Ray had given him earlier.

  “Come on,” Ray yelled. “They’re coming!”

  Emma was out the door, flicking her cane back and forth in front of her. She had her small duffel bag looped over one shoulder, her dark glasses on.

  Mike helped Vanessa to the SUV, even though she seemed to want to wander away, like she didn’t understand what was going on.

  “Help Emma,” Ray told Mike as he scooped Vanessa up into his arms to carry her to the SUV. Vanessa screeched (an oddly similar sound to the rippers that were heading their way) and fidgeted in his arms. She was strong, and she tried to bite at his neck, her teeth chomping together.

  He practically tossed Vanessa into the back seat as Mike guided Emma right to the passenger seat.

  “Get in!” Ray told Mike as he ran to the rear of the vehicle to run around it. He didn’t even glance at the approaching rippers, he couldn’t spare the second that it would take, and he was afraid he might freeze in horror if he did.

  Mike was in the back seat, slamming the door shut.

  Ray was at the rear of the SUV when the first of the rippers got the front of the truck. He wasn’t going to make it to the driver’s door; the rippers were going to get to him first. His kids were going to watch him die right outside the windows, and they would be trapped inside the running vehicle after that.

  A gunshot rang out in the dusk and the ripper running towards the driver’s door spun around, a spray of blood exploding out of the side of his head. He dropped to the ground in a heap.

  Another gunshot. Another ripper went down.

  Then another.

  The man (or men) from the condo across the courtyard was shooting at the rippers, picking them off one by one, like a sniper.

  The other rippers hadn’t reached the SUV just yet, and they had stopped, looking around like they were trying to figure out where the gunshots were coming from. But the shots had frightened them, halted them just long enough for Ray to get to the driver’s door and get inside the Chevy Tahoe. He slammed the door shut and slapped at the door lock button, locking all the doors.

  A few more gunshots rang out. These shots didn’t hit any of the rippers, but the gunshots backed them up even more.

  “That guy’s shooting at them!” Mike yelled in triumph.

  Vanessa was saying something, but it was just gibberish, something about the moon again.

  Ray looked to his left, across the courtyard field to the condo building. He couldn’t see where the man was shooting from in the quickly-approaching darkness, but he knew it was the same man who had warned them yesterday that the rippers were following them when they had first come to Emma’s condo, the same man who had fired shots at Emma’s building to drive the rippers away.

  “You guys okay?” Ray asked.

  “Go, Dad!” Mike yelled.

  Ray shoved the shifter into drive and stomped down on the gas pedal. He couldn’t remember if any of the r
ippers had fallen in front of the SUV, but he didn’t have time to worry about that now. He just drove forward as fast as he could, the rear wheels spinning in the grass for a moment before the truck lurched forward. There was a spray of blood across the bottom of the windshield from one of the rippers the man in the building had shot. Ray was tempted to use the windshield wipers, but he didn’t want to smear the blood all over the glass and make it more difficult to see.

  As he drove forward, the rippers became bolder, diving in front of his truck. Ray ran them right over. The other rippers that had stayed out of the way turned their attention to the condo building from where the shots were coming from, and then they started running towards the building.

  Oh God, they’re going to storm that building. They’re going to get the guy who was shooting at them and tear him to pieces—the guy who saved our lives.

  Ray hoped to God that the man would pick all of the rippers off before they got to him, but there were so many now. More rippers were running from the other direction, from the utility building and the fence around the dumpsters. Dozens of them were pouring into the courtyard from behind the buildings across that field.

  Ray hit the brakes when they got to the breezeway, the rear end of the Tahoe sliding on the grass, then catching traction as soon as they hit the pavement. He muscled the steering wheel, turning the truck, then stomping down on the gas pedal.

  More rippers were running down the breezeway towards them, but only a few, the stragglers in the group. Ray turned on his headlights, freezing some of them for just a second, blinding them. He hit two rippers that were in the way as he raced through the tunnel towards the parking area, their bodies making a loud thump against the truck and then flying away from the front of the SUV in a blur. The impacts didn’t even slow the Tahoe down.

  Emma held onto the doorhandle on the passenger door, much like Kim had done on their wild ride from their house to here. She didn’t have her seatbelt on, and Ray was pretty sure neither one of his children had had time to put their seatbelts on.

  “Buckle up!” Ray yelled at Mike and Vanessa as he raced through the parking area towards the exit onto the four-lane street in front of the complex.

  “Vanessa, buckle your seatbelt,” Mike yelled at his sister.

  Ray skidded out onto the street, the back end of the SUV sliding sideways, the street still somewhat slick from all the blood. Ray tried to avoid the bodies littering the street from when the soldiers had run them over and gunned so many of them down yesterday. Some of the bodies were half-eaten by scavengers, maybe probably eaten by other rippers.

  He turned left on the street and sped away. More rippers were running out into the street from the buildings, attracted by the sound and lights of their vehicle. But Ray was driving too fast now, bumping any of the rippers to the side that darted out in front of him. He was worried about the radiator; how many of these rippers could he hit before they damaged the truck too much?

  “Stop!” Mike yelled at Vanessa. “You have to get your seatbelt on! Dad, she’s grabbing me. Scratching me!”

  Ray’s blood ran cold listening to his son’s words, but his blood ran even colder when he saw the crowd of rippers pouring out into the street a block away. There were hundreds and hundreds of them, all running together like a herd of cattle.

  He slammed on the brakes and the Tahoe slid to a stop. He shifted into reverse and stomped down on the gas pedal, backing up, then cutting the steering wheel hard so he could turn around. He drove back down the street the way they had just come. He passed by a few dead and injured rippers that he had just struck moments ago. There were rippers running out into the street here, but not near as many as the other way.

  He spotted a side street to the left and he was already slowing down a bit so he could make the turn without flipping their vehicle over. The tires skidded on the pavement as he turned, screeching into the night air. The headlights lit up only a small part of the road in front of them.

  The rippers were attracted to their headlights.

  Ray turned off the headlights. It was dangerous to drive without the lights, but it was still light enough to see, not nearly dark yet, and some of the streetlights were still working, probably running on emergency battery-powered generators, or some might even be solar-powered. He turned the parking lights on so he could see the instrument panel on the dashboard, making sure the temperature gauge wasn’t running hot from a damaged radiator.

  Just head west, he told himself. Head west towards the setting sun, west and away from Arlington, west and deeper into the suburbs of Virginia, closer to Craig’s house.

  He wished now that they had left an hour earlier while it was still late afternoon. It was too dangerous to drive at night, especially without headlights. He was waiting to smack into a parked car or truck, afraid that he wouldn’t see it until the last second in the dark spaces between the unlit streetlights. The streetlights that were lit helped a little, but they only pushed the darkness back so far.

  A jet roared by overhead. Ray just caught a glimpse of the low-flying airplane. It was heading northeast towards D.C. Now that it was darker, Ray could see the hazy red glow on the horizon—Washington D.C., and much of the cities across the Potomac River, were burning now. And now another jet was on the way with more bombs.

  Mike turned around in his seat, watching the jet fly towards the reddish glow of the city on the horizon.

  Ray glanced at the rearview mirror and saw Vanessa playing with her hands, still mumbling things that only made sense to her. She couldn’t even form a sentence anymore now.

  He turned down a few more side roads, but he made sure he kept heading west towards the sunset; the glow of the city on the horizon was to his right. As the buildings turned to housing developments, the rippers thinned out a little. He saw a pack of them here and there, but at least there weren’t hundreds of them running out into the streets.

  “Stop!” Mike yelled at Vanessa in the back seat.

  Vanessa growled like a mountain lion and then said something that didn’t even sound like words anymore.

  “Dad, she bit me!”

  Ray looked at Emma who was staring back at him like she could see him. “She’s turning,” Emma told him.

  CHAPTER 31

  Ray needed to get Vanessa away from Mike before she started to rip him apart—he didn’t have a choice.

  But he couldn’t kill her. Oh God, he couldn’t do it. He realized now that he should have poisoned her like he had done to Kim. Vanessa could’ve just fallen asleep like Kim had, passed on peacefully, just fallen asleep and never woke up again. But he hadn’t been able to do it; he’d been too selfish, too scared to do it. And now Vanessa was turning into a ripper in the back seat.

  The only thing that saved Mike from further attacks from his sister was that he had somehow managed to buckle Vanessa into the back seat, using the shoulder harness. She didn’t seem to know how to get out of the lap belt, struggling against it, reaching out for Mike who had squirmed out of his seatbelt so he could cringe against the door. But Ray was sure Vanessa would be able to get out of her seatbelt soon; she would eventually get to Mike.

  You have to let her go now, a voice whispered in Ray’s mind. The voice sounded a lot like Kim.

  Tears welled up in Ray’s eyes, blurring his vision. He wiped at them as he drove, slowing down a little because he couldn’t see that well. He looked at Emma and she still seemed to be looking at him somehow. She nodded slightly like she knew exactly what he was thinking.

  Ray pulled over in the middle of a big intersection that was lit up by sodium lights, giving off an orange glow. There was a pileup of cars and trucks at one corner, but so far the intersection was clear of rippers.

  But it wouldn’t be long before the rippers came out of the darkness, screeching and yelling, waving sticks and throwing rocks, running for their SUV.

  Ray left the truck running as he got out, afraid to turn it off, afraid it might not start back up. He opened the bac
k door and looked at what used to be his daughter. He was crying harder now. She turned to him, reaching out for him like she wanted to hug him, but her hands were formed into claws now, ready to grab at him, her teeth gnashing, her eyes wild.

  He unbuckled her seatbelt and she jumped at him like a cat. Ray grabbed her and picked her up. He swung her out of the truck and set her down hard on her feet. She backed up a step on the street, teetering there for just a moment. She seemed ready to charge at Ray.

  “Stop!” Ray yelled at Vanessa. “Please, just stop.” He was crying harder now.

  And for just a moment, Vanessa hesitated before charging him. For just a moment it seemed like she understood what he was doing, that he was abandoning her, leaving her in the middle of some suburban intersection.

  “I’m sorry,” he cried. “Oh God, I’m so sorry.”

  Vanessa’s mouth curled into a mean smile.

  Ray heard rippers screeching—a horde of them was coming this way.

  “Dad!” Mike yelled. “They’re coming!”

  Ray didn’t look into the back seat, but he could imagine that Mike was pointing out the windshield at the approaching mob.

  “I love you, Vanessa,” Ray whispered. “I know you can’t understand me anymore, but I love you.” He got back into the SUV and slammed his door shut. He didn’t look back at Vanessa; he just drove forward.

  When Ray was at the other side of the intersection, he stopped the truck for just a moment. He turned around and stared out through the rear window. The horizon was a red glow from the fires of Washington D.C. It was almost dark now, but there was enough light from the streetlights and the glow on the horizon for Ray to see the horde of rippers rush up to Vanessa. She stood right in the middle of the intersection where he had left her.

  The rippers stopped when they saw Vanessa, circling around her, staring at her.

  For a second Ray had an overwhelming urge to back the truck up to the horde of rippers and get his daughter back, rescue her from those animals, scoop her up in his arms and get her back inside the truck. But Vanessa wasn’t his little girl anymore, she wasn’t his daughter now.