Kick at the Darkness (3 page)

He’d mapped out this shortcut the first week of school after the RA had confiscated his Italian coffee maker. The night air was crisp, and Parker shoved his hands in his hoodie pockets as he navigated the nooks and crannies between buildings. He caught glimpses of the main quad, where a large number of people milled about. Probably some frat thing; all the better that he avoided it so he could get back to his books ASAP.

But he wondered what the riots or whatever had been about, and he thumbed off the airplane mode on his phone so he could Google it. As the phone reconnected, it vibrated in his palm and the screen filled with notifications. Nothing from Jessica or Jason, and Parker wished he didn’t feel the stab of disappointment and hurt. It wasn’t their fault they were fitting in and making friends at college. He couldn’t expect them to have the time for him that they used to. But it still stung.

He shook it off and focused on the screen. “Seven missed calls from Mom?” he muttered to himself with a smile. “Classic.” When she got something into her head, she was a dog with a bone. As he walked, he listened to the voicemail message she’d left.

“
Honey
.” The recording was staticy and garbled, with some kind of background noise. Parker stopped to listen harder. He couldn’t make out the next few words. Then, “
Cape house. We love you
.” The message ended.

Huh. That was weird.

Why would she be calling about the Cape house? His parents went to Chatham most weekends in September, but it was Tuesday. Parker deleted the message and started walking again. He’d call her when he got back to the dorm, or maybe wait until morning. It was after midnight on the east coast.

As he cut behind one of the science buildings, he stopped in his tracks. By a palm tree, there stood Adam Hawkins and his ludicrous cheekbones. Of course—he’d never seen the guy before today, and now he was likely doomed to run into him daily.

Adam had a motorcycle helmet in one hand, and had changed his loafers for black work boots. Wearing earbuds, he peered at the bright screen of his phone with a frown creasing his forehead.

Ugh
.

Adam’s gaze shot up, his eyes hard as he removed his earbuds. “Excuse me?”

Parker realized he might have said that out loud. He paused his playlist and cleared his throat, trying to remember one of the witty comebacks he’d had a million of that afternoon. “Um, nothing.” Of course he’d think of ten more the minute he left Adam behind. Which couldn’t be too soon. In his black leather jacket and stubble, he looked ridiculous. Ridiculously hot, which wasn’t really fair since he was a film geek. A documentarian, even! Not to mention a condescending know-it-all. Parker kept walking.

“You didn’t have to complain to the dean,” Adam called after him.

Parker stopped and faced him. “Huh?”

“Are you seriously going to pretend it wasn’t you? I have to meet with Professor Grindle and the head of the department at the end of the week because a student with rich alumni parents put up a stink. She wouldn’t say who, but she didn’t need to.”

“It wasn’t me.” When Adam snorted and started walking away, Parker couldn’t stop himself from following. “Hey! It wasn’t me, asshole.”

“
I’m
the asshole?” Adam turned, gripping his helmet. His nostrils flared. “Every year I get kids like you taking my courses. Kids who don’t care about the arts and just want an easy grade. And now you’re messing with my future. This job is everything to me. My degree is everything.”

“First off, who says I don’t care about the arts? I like the arts just fine, thank you very much. I played viola in my school orchestra, I’ll have you know. And like I said, it wasn’t me. Whatever, dude. You’re not worth it. I have important things to do like study for my econ test.”

“Uh-huh.”

“What? What does that mean?”

“That eighteen-year-olds think they know it all.” Adam shrugged, his flash of passion concealed again behind a flat expression. “If you say it wasn’t you, I guess it wasn’t.”

Jesus, this guy was annoying. “And what are you, twenty-two? So wise.”

“Twenty-three, actually.”

“Oh, that changes everything. Whatever. I don’t have to talk to you.”

“Okay.” He shrugged again, now completely calm.

“Econ is a hell of a lot more important than dissecting movies.”

Adam watched him with an inscrutable gaze. Just like with the cute redhead, it felt as though he was being evaluated and found hopelessly lacking. “Okay.”

“Stop saying that! Oh my god, why am I even having this conversation?” Parker brushed by him and pressed play even though now he was going the wrong way for the coffee shop. He’d loop around, since he couldn’t turn back. “Have a nice life,” he called in his wake. If Adam replied, Parker didn’t hear it over the music in his ears.

He could not drop that class soon enough. He should have known—

A scream pierced the night, so loud he heard it over the new Macklemore song. Parker ripped out the earbuds and glanced around. He and Adam stared at each other. “Do you hear—”

“Yes,” Adam replied, his entire body tensed.

In the distance, the screaming swelled as other voices joined in. Parker’s heart thumped. “That’s a hell of a hazing ritual.”

The din increased, and more shrieks raised the hair on Parker’s arms. A girl and guy raced around the building. “What’s going on?” Parker shouted.

“They’re killing everyone!” the girl yelled, her eyes wild as she shoved past him.

More students streamed behind the buildings, and Parker watched them as his brain struggled to process what was happening. Then he was being yanked so hard he thought his shoulder might pop free of its socket. Adam propelled him forward, and yes, run.
Run!

Parker hadn’t heard any gunshots, but the screaming filled the night. He had no idea where they were running to, but he followed the crowd—and Adam Hawkins. Ahead, more people flooded the service road behind the library, and in the glow of the safety light by the path, he saw red paint sprayed into the air and over the students who stumbled there. Other people piled on top of them, their eyes unnaturally wide and bugging out.

They swarmed with frantic desperation, and as one of them bit into the face of a guy wearing a Sigma Nu T-shirt, Parker understood that it was blood arcing through the air.

“This way!” Adam shoved him into a narrow alley.

Parker wanted to scream, the urge batting its wings in his chest, but he sucked in a breath and went on, his feet pounding the asphalt. Adam had pulled twenty feet ahead, and he glanced back.

“Faster!”

Parker’s lungs burned, and he pumped his arms.
Faster, faster, faster
. But he couldn’t keep up.

Adam looked back a couple more times. “Keep running!” he shouted. Then he streaked off faster than seemed possible and disappeared beyond the end of the alley.

Oh fuck. Oh God
. Parker wanted to scream for Adam to wait, but he was long gone. He still clutched his phone in his hand, the earbuds dangling. He tore them out and illuminated the screen as he slowed. He had to call nine-one-one. He was alone, except—oh Jesus fucking Christ— he wasn’t alone, because now the crazy people were coming down the alley, their limbs moving in weird staccato jerks, and—
what the fuck was happening?

Parker gasped for air as he raced on, the alley seeming longer than before. He was alone and he was going to fucking die, and he was trapped, and
fuck
this had to be a dream because this couldn’t be real, but they were gaining on him and—

A headlight blinded him. Beyond the bizarre chattering of the people surging closer—like a strange humming and their teeth smashing together—an engine revved. Parker skidded to a stop and raised his arm to shield his eyes as a motorcycle zoomed down the alley. Tires squealed as the driver spun the bike sideways.

“Get on!” Adam shouted, grabbing for him with one hand. He still held his helmet with the other, and whipped it at the head of a man who grasped at Parker.

The motorcycle hummed between Parker’s legs, and he wrapped his arms around Adam’s waist. “Go, go!”

The chattering was louder, and bloody hands clawed at them, one snagging his hood. The material tightened on his throat, choking him for a terrible instant until the motorcycle shot free and careened around the corner.

He hung on precariously, his fingers digging into Adam’s leather jacket. The main roads of campus were clogged with cars, the headlights illuminating packs of jerking people who had become like animals, biting into students while wails echoed across the Oval. Adam deftly maneuvered the bike across campus, weaving around clumps of writhing bodies.

Helicopters circled uselessly in the distance over the pandemonium of Palo Alto. How had he not heard them before? He could only hang on as Adam snaked across lawns and over sidewalks. “Where are we going?” Parker’s voice sounded thin and jagged. God, he was thirsty.

“The preserve,” Adam shouted.

This had to be a fucking nightmare. This couldn’t be real. It was impossible. His mind spun as they sped around Lake Lagunita, wet and marshy after late summer storms earlier in the week. “Then what?”

Adam steered across the driving range and they plunged into the darkness of the golf course. He didn’t answer.

IN A SWATH of trees, the forest dense around them, Adam brought the bike to a stop and cut the engine. Harsh pants filled Parker’s ears, and he jerked around before realizing they were his own. He still clung to Adam and his warmth, and reluctantly sat back and let his arms drop. The silence of the preserve was unnerving. Branches swayed in the light wind, and leaves rustled. Parker’s heart was very possibly going to explode.

“It’s okay. There’s no one else here.”

“How do you know?” Parker craned his neck back and forth. “They could be out here too.”

“I can’t hear anyone but you.”

“What if they’re hiding?”

Adam swung his leg over the bike and turned. “Did they seem particularly stealthy?”

“Well, no. Good point. Speaking of those people,
what the actual fuck?
I mean, is this happening? They were like, like…”

Adam pressed his lips together in a grim line. “Zombies?”

“Yes! How the hell?” Gesturing with his hands, Parker jumped off the bike. “This isn’t…this
can’t
. Zombies aren’t real!”

“Well, I don’t think those people are actually dead, but they’re clearly…infected with something.”

“How? And with what?” He paced back and forth. “Earlier tonight I heard someone say it was happening in San Francisco. I should have watched the news like everyone else. I didn’t think…Jesus. Did you hear anything?”

“No.” Adam raked a hand through his thick hair. “I was in the AV lab in the basement using the editing equipment. There’s no cell service down there.” He reached into his jacket pockets. “Shit. I must have dropped my phone back on campus.” Suddenly Adam tensed, his hand raised. Parker froze, listening as hard as he could. After a few seconds, Adam relaxed. “It’s just a deer.”

Parker squinted into the darkness. “Where?” he whispered.

“You didn’t see it? It’s gone now.”

“Oh. Okay.” Parker was quiet for a few moments, the urge to scream clawing at him as his brain tried to process what was happening. He yanked his phone from his pocket. The light from the screen was harsh, and he blinked at his lock-screen image of the impossibly blue ocean that summer on Cape Cod, with white sails bobbing on the horizon. He swiped his finger across the bottom of the screen and entered his code. “My parents. My mom called me a million times.” He hit his mother’s cell number in the list of recents. “Come on, come on…” He held his breath while he waited for it to ring. Nothing happened. “Come
on
. Ring!”

“The system might be overloaded, Parker.”

“Yeah, but I’m still going to try.”

“I didn’t say not to.”

Parker ignored the flash of irritation and tried again, pacing. His throat was getting more and more sore, and his head felt heavy. He needed water. He disconnected and tried again. And again.

As a tinny sound finally echoed down the line, he waved his free hand in the air. “It’s ringing!” It rang. And rang.

“
Hello. You’ve reached Pamela Osborne. I’m unavailable, but will return your call as soon as I can. Have a lovely day
.”

The familiar sound of his mother’s voice made Parker want to curl up into her arms and cry. He took a steadying breath. “Mom? It’s me. Are you guys okay? It’s insane over here. I’m hiding in the woods, but I’m okay. Call me back when you get to the Cape house. Love you.”

He tried the Cambridge house phone next, then the Cape house number, his father’s cell, and Eric’s numbers in London. He left similar messages after each beep. Adam now sat against a tree with his eyes closed and legs crossed
. Is he meditating or some shit?
Parker watched him. “Um, do you want to call your folks?”

“I don’t have any family.”

Parker blinked. “Oh. But you have a girlfriend, right?” Parker handed him the phone.

Adam took it and tapped in a number. “Tina, it’s me. Are you okay? I hope…I hope I see you soon. Love you.” He disconnected and handed back the phone. “Thanks.”

Pacing again, Parker opened his browser and tried to connect to a news site. “Come on, come on…” The page loaded, and he peered at the wall of red text, his eyes scanning as his brain tried to process it. “National state of emergency. Some kind of virus. Take cover. Washington, New York, Los Angeles, and a bunch of other cities under siege.”

“I don’t think a virus could spread that fast on its own,” Adam said quietly.

Parker bit back a scream when his phone rang and vibrated in his hand, the retro ring tone making it sound like the old phone at the Cape house. His brother’s picture appeared on the screen in a shot Parker had taken on the deck of their family’s sailboat a few summers ago before Eric moved to London. His blond hair was bleached even lighter, and his face was a little red from the sun and sea. Parker’s heart hammered as he answered. “Eric?”