Into The Darkness (15 page)

A
young woman holding a sleeping infant came quietly up to the three men sitting
at the picnic table, and hesitantly sat at the far end. The men could sense the
fear in her as she glanced at their faces. Her hair was long and greasy, and
like everyone else, she had not bathed. Her eyes had dark circles around them
and were slightly sunken inward. Although it was summer, her skin was pale. She
did not appear to be well.

“Do
you know what has happened?” she asked.

“Yes,
ma’am. Something very bad has happened,” Dylan said quietly.

“Bad?”
The woman laughed inappropriately and with glazed eyes, looked past the men.
“Do you believe in God?” She stared at them with bloodshot eyes and did not
give them a chance to respond to her question. “It’s the rapture. We have been
left here to suffer. I will starve to death with my baby. I know this. I saw
the angels the morning this happened. My baby was crying, so I woke up and took
her outside to rock her. The angels lit up the night sky.” She was speaking
loudly and her baby began to cry. Two women overheard what she was saying and
came to her side. One of the women took the baby to comfort it and the other
put a blanket around the deranged young woman’s shoulders and led her away.

The
men who had taken Sergeant Haber away came back to the campground and the big
man in the flannel shirt approached the picnic table where the three men were
seated.

“I
saw them take Jane away,” said the man. “She’s been acting strange ever since
we’ve been stuck here. Sorry about that. Do you know what happened? We haven’t
seen a single vehicle or a plane in the sky, and nothing electric works here.
Most everything stopped at once, except for the electric lights in the RVs, but
the batteries died because our motors wouldn’t start, and now nothing works.”
He leaned the blood- stained bat against the table and sat down.

“Everywhere
we’ve been is bad,” said Richard.

“Really,
really, bad and it’s going to get worse,” Kevin added.

“What?”

“Let
me try to explain what I think happened,” said Dylan. “There was a massive
solar storm and it destroyed tiny electronic circuits and the power grid, too.
Nothing with a computer chip works now. People are going to get desperate, like
Sergeant Haber, and do stupid things. Most likely, they will hurt other people
in their desperation.”

“Then
we are stuck here. Really stuck here,” the man said, fearfully.

“We
decided to head south, to get back home,” said Dylan. “We aren’t looking forward
to going through any large cities. Think about how much trouble the sergeant
has caused. What if there was a whole gang of people like him, with
weapons?"

“I
better tell the others.” The man stood up. “I forgot to thank you for helping
me today.” The man extended his hand to shake Dylan’s, and realized it was
bloody. He slowly put his hand to his side and rubbed the blood onto his jeans.
“I wish there was something we could do for you, but we’ve got nothing. I don’t
even know how we’re going to get out of here.”

Dylan
stood up. “You don’t owe me anything. We’re just going to get what was stolen
from us and leave, if you don’t mind.”

The
big man buttoned his flannel shirt, thanked them again, and walked away.

“Let’s
go. You two go back upstream, get your rafts, and float down here. I want to
check out my raft before we leave.”

Dylan
walked down to the river’s edge. He looked, but did not see any food left in
the raft. The pillowcases that had held the food from the hotel were empty now,
and the box of MREs was gone. He evidently had not tried to scavenge food along
the way, either. The sergeant had nothing to eat, and must have been desperate.
Dylan thought,
What a fool, not rationing out the food supply
. Dylan
lifted the suitcase and saw the pistol that Haber had stolen from him. There
were still boxes of cartridges, some clothes, a blanket, and that black duffle
bag that the sergeant had brought with him. Dylan stepped into the raft and
opened the black bag. He had been right; the bag was full of weapons that the
sergeant had stolen from the base. There were boxes of ammunition and hand
grenades. He moved the bag carefully away from the other supplies and put his
suitcase on top.

Dylan
noticed that a zipper on an outside pocket of the suitcase was partially open.
He opened it the rest of the way and felt around inside. There was a folded
piece of paper tucked way back in there. He pulled it out and opened it. It was
a picture that his son and daughter had drawn for him, with crayons, before he
left on the trip to Montana. It depicted him with his children standing beside
him, and at the top they had written, We love you Daddy. The emotions evoked by
that piece of paper hit him hard. He felt a sick feeling in his stomach and a
huge lump in his throat. The crayon lines became blurry as tears welled in his
eyes. When he noticed his two companions floating toward him, he quickly
replaced the picture and wiped away his tears. He waved to the two men and
shoved his raft out into the water. While he floated down the river, he kept
his hand on the suitcase pocket that held the drawing, and thought of his
children a thousand miles away.

The
river carried the men forward on their journey, teasing them with abrupt
changes of direction and speed. Although Dylan felt like he had the burden of
leading the others on this journey, he had the comfort of knowing that the
river would lead them home. That was one less thing he had to worry about. Just
follow the river, let the river take its course. As the river meandered, taking
the men with it, minutes changed to hours, and the hours changed to days.
Nobody kept track of time anymore. The days just blurred together. The days of
the week held no meaning for them. There were no jobs, no meetings, and no
appointments to keep. Life was just day by day.

They
scavenged for food as they went along. For days, they supplemented the deer
jerky and dried beans with small game, cattails, berries, dandelions, and other
green plants that they would have normally never considered as food. As the
days passed, their beards grew longer and their waistlines smaller, and after
several more days, the terrain also began to change. The river gradually got wider
and the current slowed. It became increasingly difficult to paddle the rafts
through the sluggish water. The men decided that as the river widened, the
riverbank was turning into the shoreline of a lake, so they switched from
paddling to rowing the rafts. The lake seemed to fight back, in alliance with a
constant headwind. The men would row and seem to advance only an imperceptible
amount against the strong winds on the lake. The endless rowing was burning
countless calories and their hunger increased in unison with their discontent.

The
men decided to go ashore and gather more food. There were many inlets along the
shoreline. They saw a large cove in the distance and rowed toward it. As they
got closer, they saw white rock bluffs partially surrounded the inlet. The
shoreline appeared shallow, but adequate for beaching their rafts. As they
turned to enter the cove, they noticed a large cabin cruiser anchored there.

“What
do we do now?” asked Richard.

“I
say we get closer to see if it’s abandoned,” Kevin offered, as he used his
pistol to point in the direction of the boat.

Dylan
reached for the rifle and held it close. “Move in slow. I’ll make some noise to
let them know we’re here.”

The
men paddled up next to the boat. Dylan and Kevin went to opposite sides.

“Hello…hello…is
anybody there? Hello,” Dylan announced.

There
was no reply. The boat gently rocked in rhythm with the rafts as it floated on
the lake, silent except for the gentle slap of the water against the hull.

“Hello…we’re
going to come on deck now…if anyone is there, let us know,” Dylan repeated the
announcement as he nodded to Richard.

Richard
immediately contorted his face. He looked at Dylan and silently mouthed the
words, “Why me?” as he shrugged his shoulders.

Dylan
waved him onward with his hand. Richard apprehensively grabbed the ladder at
the rear of the boat and climbed upward. He slowly brought his head above the
deck of the boat and cautiously looked around. After a quick glance back at his
companions, Richard triumphantly jumped onto the boat. He motioned for the
other men to join him. Kevin secured the rafts to the boat before joining his
friends and was last up the ladder. The men remained quiet, whispering softly
and using hand signals to communicate.

After
Kevin stepped onboard, Richard looked at the closed cabin door and then back at
Dylan and Kevin. Dylan nodded again to Richard. Richard immediately grimaced
for the second time, looked at Dylan and mouthed the words again, “Why me?” as
he shrugged once more.

Dylan
leaned toward him and whispered, “We got your back, Rambo.” Dylan followed the
whisper with a push toward the cabin door with his boot.

Richard
quietly edged forward to the door. He extended his hand over the brass knob and
hesitated. Richard looked back to see both Dylan and Kevin waving him on. His
hand was shaking as he turned the knob. Richard closed his eyes as he
reluctantly inched the door open. He heard a slight squeak from the door
hinges, which brought him back to reality, and he opened his eyes. Richard
shrieked, stumbling backward as the cabin door slammed shut.

Both
Dylan and Kevin crouched low and gripped their weapons tightly. Adrenaline
pumped into their veins and their eyes grew wide, locked on the door as they
waited for it to burst open, the threat behind it revealing itself.

“Get
back here!” hissed Dylan. “What did you see? What were they doing? Did they
have weapons?”

“They…I
mean she…was just sprawled there. It looked like a woman.”

Dylan
lowered his weapon and walked to the closed door. He placed his hand on the
doorknob and turned to glance back at his two companions. Dylan did a silent
countdown from three, then flung the door completely open. He saw a woman lying
on the bed. Then his senses captured the horrible smell. A woman’s dead body
lay there in her own filth. In her arms, she was holding a picture. Dylan took
the picture and held it up to the cabin’s rear window. It was the picture of a
man wearing a monogrammed leather jacket and alligator boots, with a large
Rolex watch on his wrist. In the background was the boat they were now standing
on. He wondered if the man was her husband.

Kevin
stepped into the cabin, opened the windows to let fresh air inside, and noticed
a note on a small table. He read it aloud. “My love, it has been days since you
left to look for help. I pray that you are well, but I’m sick and can feel
myself weakening. The food has gone bad, but I’m so hungry and thirsty that I
ate the food anyway and drank water from the lake. If you read this note, I
want you to know my last thoughts are of you.” Kevin dropped the note back down
on the table. “Looks like food poisoning and dirty water. He has to be a goner,
too. There’s no help anywhere. They never had a chance, not even with all their
money.”

“There’s
nothing we can do for her. Let’s look around to see if we can use anything,”
stated Dylan, already looking for whatever could be of use.

The
men systematically opened every one of the boat’s compartments, assessing all
the items at their disposal.

Dylan
reviewed their new inventory. “Flashlight, first-aid kit, rope, flare gun,
and…what are these…life preservers? Who needs these?”

Richard
took a deep breath and reluctantly said, “I do. I can’t swim.”

Dylan
and Kevin were speechless. Dylan glanced back and forth from Richard to the
raft in the lake and said nothing, but shook his head in disbelief. He grabbed
a life preserver and pushed it into Richard’s chest. Dylan took the new
supplies, lowered them into the rafts, then the men continued on their way.

They
rowed until well into the afternoon and stopped at a gentle shoreline with a
narrow gravel service road next to it. The road was at least one hundred feet
from the river, with a grassy hill behind it. They needed to go ashore to scout
for food, and decided that this flat area would be a good place to set up camp.
The trees were sparse in this area, but there was just enough wood to start a
fire sufficient for their needs. Kevin set the lines to catch fish and Richard
took the hatchet to gather more wood. Richard walked to the gravel road and
followed it to a small stand of trees, where anyone watching would have seen
him stop in horror. He gripped the hatchet tightly and quickly cast a fearful
eye over his surroundings. There was a body of a man lying there, wearing only underclothes,
with his hands and feet bound. Dylan and Kevin came running with weapons in
hand.

With
a shaky finger, Richard pointed to the lifeless body on the ground. “Look,
another body. It looks like he was shot.”

Kevin
knelt down near the corpse and looked closely at the man’s facial features. “Yeah,
he’s been shot. This is the man in the picture, from the big boat.”

“Are
you sure?” asked Dylan.

“Positive.
We had better take turns on watch tonight.”

Trying
to ignore the body, Richard gathered wood for the fire and returned to the
campsite. He went to another stand of trees to get more wood. The branches were
still green, and the fresh wood sizzled and crackled in the fire as the men
stood around it silently reflecting on the day’s events.

Richard
was facing the slope and thought he saw something moving on top of the hill.
The other men turned to see the same dark figure. Dylan grabbed the binoculars
and determined that it was a man in a dark green uniform coming their way. As the
man got closer, he waved his arms in their direction, trying to get their attention.
Dylan continued watching, and could soon tell that it was a park ranger’s
uniform. The men waved back to acknowledge the ranger. Dylan handed the
binoculars to Kevin.

“Hey,
I went to take a look around on that hill and I saw your fire,” said the ranger.

Dylan
noticed he still had a nametag on his shirt. The name was Murphy. “Ranger
Murphy, we found a body over there. It looks like he was murdered.”

Murphy
touched his nametag as though he had forgotten that he was still wearing it. The
ranger appeared to be affected like all the other people they had met after the
grid crashed. Dylan assumed he was on duty at this enormous park when it
happened, and now he was stuck here.

“People
are running out of food. They’re desperate.” The ranger looked at the ground
and shook his head dejectedly. “There’s nothing I can do.” He looked back up
and spoke with tension in his voice. “Something’s wrong. I can’t radio for help
and everyone is stuck here, including me.” His gaze turned to the three rafts and
supplies. “It looks like you guys are doing alright, though.” The ranger
pointed at the rifle on Dylan’s shoulder. “Nice piece. Military?”

“The
rifle is. I’m not.”

“I
met someone that was camping on the other side of the hill. We’ve been helping
each other while we’re stuck here. He got an elk and there’s too much for us.”
The ranger looked at Dylan. “Why don’t you come over and get some elk meat. If
you help us butcher it, we can give you plenty. I’ll help you carry some back
to your camp.”

Dylan
looked at his companions and they nodded in agreement. “I’ll go,” said Dylan.

The
ranger and Dylan crested the grassy hill. From above he could see that the
service road went around the hill and split, one section following the lake’s
shoreline. The road on the other side of the hill led to the campsite where the
elk was supposed to be. They went directly to the other campsite through a
stand of trees and bushes, using a path that, according to the ranger, would
lead them there. The path was narrow so the two men walked single file. The ranger
walked behind Dylan giving him directions as they went along. The path stopped
at a large clearing a short distance in front of Dylan. He stopped and the ranger
stopped behind him. Dylan looked around the clearing to study the campsite. He
could see a truck farther away, on the far side of the clearing, next to the
road that split around the hill. Behind the truck, he saw a man standing there
with his back turned to their approach.

“I
don’t see the elk,” stated Dylan, as he took a few slow steps forward.

“Just
keep walking,” said Ranger Murphy, remaining behind Dylan.

Dylan
moved slowly forward toward the truck and the man behind it. He cautiously
looked around and observed how well concealed the clearing was. Tall trees and bushes
surrounded this campsite. As the two men got closer, the man behind the truck
turned and seemed surprised to see them. He had not heard them approaching from
the trail. The man behind the truck gave a quick wave after he recognized the ranger,
who was partially concealed behind Dylan.

“Where’s
the elk?” Dylan asked again.

“Just
keep on walking,” said Ranger Murphy.

The
man in the distance stepped from behind the truck. He was wearing an expensive
leather jacket and holding some rope in his right hand.

“Here
we go,” shouted Ranger Murphy toward the other man.

The
other man did not respond as he moved toward the front of the truck. He put his
foot on the truck’s bumper and leaned on his elevated knee. As the man leaned
forward, the sleeves of his jacket pulled back, revealing a large expensive
wristwatch. He brushed some dust off the shiny alligator boots he was wearing.

Dylan
saw the man’s boots and stopped walking toward the truck. His eyes went from
the boots to the wristwatch and then to the leather jacket. He could now see
that the jacket was monogrammed. Dylan kept his eye on the man as he leaned
back to whisper to the ranger.

“I
think he killed the man that we found near our campsite. I saw a picture of the
dead man and he was wearing that jacket, boots, and watch.”

The
ranger put his hand on his pistol. Dylan could hear the sound of the Velcro
strap holding the ranger’s pistol pull away.

“Are
you sure he shot the man you found?” Ranger Murphy was directly behind Dylan
now.

Dylan
felt his heart drop. Now he realized why there was no elk. He moved his hand
toward his rifle and spoke as he spun around to the Ranger. “I never told you
he was shot.”