Out of the Dark: An apocalyptic thriller (10 page)

     As soon as Trevor’s hand left Sam’s, the boy’s eyes flooded again with that diseased darkness. Frowning, perplexed, Sam reached out and grabbed Trevor again. His eyes cleared, and the aura of infection greatly lessened. Sam knew that there was something terribly important about the interaction, but he didn’t know enough to come to a solid conclusion about it.

     Deciding to maintain physical contact as much as he could, Sam pulled the boy gently onto his lap. Austin sat on the couch, leaving the middle cushion open between himself and Laura, who was holding Melissa like a big, fleshy teddy bear.

     “Something is obviously wrong,” Sam began without preamble. No one made any objections. “If we can figure out what it is, great, but the main concern is staying safe, staying together and staying under cover.”

     “So, we stay here,” Laura said. Her voice was stronger than it had been, full of relief at having Sam home and to be started working on a plan. “We barricade the doors and windows. We’re already well-stocked on food and water. We just stay here until whatever this is ends?”

     “Maybe,” Sam said, hating to crush her newfound resolve. “But there’s a chance we’ll have to move. Here’s what I propose for the day: barricading is a good idea. Take inventory of everything we have. Laura, I want you to focus on that. Then we need to take half of our nonperishable supply and stock the cars. The cars need to be stocked with everything we need for a quick escape. In the truck, I want blankets, the tents, pillows, all extra personal care supplies. The camping packs are a must. Flashlights with as many extra batteries as we can find. Anything else you think we need, ask me before you pack it. If either of the vehicles fails, we may need to abandon our supplies. Things we leave here will still be here when we come back, okay?”

     He didn’t say this so much for Laura’s sake, but for Melissa’s and Trevor’s. He knew the kids would have an exceptionally hard time leaving behind some of their belongings. It was going to be difficult, but with the right assurances, both children would do what needed to be done. They were good kids.

     “Something seems particularly…unique about Trevor,” Sam said, moving to a different topic he wanted to address. “And it seems to be lessened when I’m touching him, so Trev is going to stay by me at all times. You got that, bud?”

     Giving Trevor a little squeeze, Sam hoped his son would acknowledge what he’d said. If he had to hold Trevor’s hand constantly, things would be a lot more difficult to pack, barricade and organize.

     Trevor didn’t say anything, but he did nod. That was good enough for Sam.

     “Okay, everyone,” Sam said as he clapped his hands. Trevor barely shifted on his father’s lap. “Let’s get to work. Austin, you, me and Trevor are going to work on the barricades. Laura, start on the list. Have Mel follow you around and pack up what you think we’ll need. Everyone got it?”

     There were semi-enthusiastic murmurs of agreement from the rest of Sam’s family. Laura squeezed Melissa and said, “Okay, sweetie, let’s go to the kitchen. We’re going to start packing some of the food up.”

     “Yes, Mama,” Melissa responded dutifully. They left the room holding hands.

     “Austin, we have three doors. The door to the garage we’re not going to worry about, because we’ll need to get in there quickly if we have to move. Two windows in here, one in each of the kids’ rooms, two in our bedroom. The one in the kitchen is high enough and small enough not to be a concern.”

     Sam hesitated about the next issue he wanted to address. He remembered the thing in the basement of the last home he and Dennis had been in together, but his basement had been designed to be his fallback in the event of some catastrophe. Most of his supply cache was down there. He would check the basement himself, he decided, and leave Trevor in Austin’s care for the few moments it would take to secure the lower area of the house. Surely not much could happen in just a few minutes.

     Having thought that made Sam even more nervous as he descended the staircase. The lights were strong as he flicked on the switch, and they chased the shadows back effectively. These lights were new, bright and he was glad for the investment he had made to remodel the basement four years ago. The place was a sanctuary against the new darkness, from the energy-conserving lighting to the six LED lanterns carefully stored beneath the stairs. Even when the power failed-which it would-this room was designed to be well-lit at all times.

     Though the power was still operational, Sam grabbed one of the lanterns as he reached the foot of the stairs. He did not want to be without light even for a moment. If the power failed, light would be in his hand within a few seconds.

     Sam checked every corner and closet. He looked underneath the stairs, behind the washer and dryer and behind the furnace. The ceiling was covered in drywall and painted with blue stars, a project done more for the kids as this had become a playroom while still being used as Sam’s survival storage.

     The closets were full of everything Sam had collected through the years. Though the pantry upstairs was always full of canned goods and a good stock of nonperishable food items, these closets were wall-to-wall packed with overstock: canned vegetables, canned fruits, vacuum-sealed dried meats (packaged within the last few months), several “just-add-water” meals and military MREs Sam had purchased online a little over two years ago.

     Of the three closets in the basement, one was devoted to food, one to bottled water and one to miscellaneous equipment. Two small portable stoves, one that operated on propane and an even smaller one that used Sterno cans (which Sam had a respectable supply of) were tucked into the tool closet.

     Sam had installed a wood-burning stove four winters ago with the remodel, and it burned even now, keeping the room toasty warm. It would continue to do so even if the power went out, which was why Sam had considered and finally invested in the installation in the first place. There was a large stockpile of junk mail, newspapers, and other burnable products. To the right of the stove, an iron stand held pieces of wood to burn, taken in every night from the much larger stockpile outside. Last summer, Laura and Sam had removed all of the trees from the backyard (three of them, two which had been impressively tall maples and one big old bastard, a highly annoying willow). The wood from all of those trees had been carefully cut and stacked out back beside the patio, and would last them several winters at least.

     Sam made a mental note to himself to check the privacy fence that surrounded the backyard for weaknesses. When the winter got colder and the snow got higher, people would be searching for things to burn. Sam’s stockpile would appeal to the needy wanderer.

     Disguising the wood hadn’t been the intention of the privacy fence when it had been installed; Sam simply had never had a good relationship with their neighbor to the left. He didn’t like the man, who lived on his own and was wont to stare lecherously at Laura-and on one occasion that nearly escalated to a physical confrontation, Melissa-while they frolicked or sunbathed near their in ground pool.  

     As he realized just how well-prepared his family was for this and any disaster, he said a prayer of thanks and requested protection for the man who had made everything possible: Laura’s father, Bill. A business owner and a very loving family man, Bill had liquidated his family business instead of forcing Laura to take it over when he retired, which she had adamantly declared she did not want to do. She’d loved growing up promoting and being proud of the business, but it was not what she wanted to do with her life. Being an understanding man, Bill had agreed and split the liquidated assets in half, giving his daughter enough money to live on for the rest of her life if she did not live lavishly, which Laura had never done. Sam still worked, and loved his work, but they owed their well-stocked, well-prepared house solely to Bill Atkinson’s generosity.

     Sam’s breath was shaky when he let it out. He’d been so focused on his need to return to Laura and the kids that he’d completely neglected part of the emergency plan.

     He knew the cell phones weren’t working, but Bill and his Jack Russell Terrier, Betty didn’t live that far from them-fifteen minutes if anything. Laura wouldn’t ask him to go, but Sam felt a responsibility to his father-in-law that couldn’t be ignored. However, without another adult around, Sam was incredibly hesitant to leave his wife, children and Austin.

     “Shit,” Sam swore quietly. Bill was supposed to be with them. Laura had only her father left, as her mother had passed more than ten years ago and she’d been an only child. Her extended family was in Ohio, and Amy’s parents were in Washington. Bill was the only one near them, and really the only one who mattered.

     Besides Amy, Sam thought suddenly and the blood froze in his veins. He too often forgot about Amy, a shy but smart girl, Laura’s cousin, who had chosen Laura’s home state to go to college at. God only knew what Amy had gone through last night, and what she was possibly still going through. She might not say anything about Bill, though it would tear her up inside not to know if he was safe, but Laura wasn’t going to sit idly by while Amy was out there alone. Laura was Amy’s only family here and she took her responsibility to her younger cousin very seriously.

     “Son of a bitch,” Sam muttered as he jogged back up the stairs after replacing the lantern beneath them. He knew his cache was safe. Laura’s family, he wasn’t so sure about.

     As Sam reached the main floor landing, Sam found himself thinking of his own family; two brothers married with children, a sister  who lived alone and his parents, still together and very much still in love. His ability to push them to the back of his mind through the onset of this disaster was not something he had expected of himself, and it made him feel momentarily like a bad person. Bad person but good father he could eventually forgive himself for. He was here with and for his wife and children. They had inspired his move away from his native Florida to Michigan and had never regretted it. But he would regret how his family would see him if he didn’t do everything he could for the extended family they rarely saw but loved dearly.

     “Laura,” he called from the landing, hoping she and Melissa had finished the task he’d assigned to them.

     When he came upon Austin and Trevor, Sam knew immediately that something had transpired between the two of them. Austin was paler than he’d yet been, and that was something hadn’t believed possible. The older boy was on his knees in front of Sam’s son, clutching his arm and staring in a horrified way at Trevor. There was blood.

     “Damn it,” Sam snapped as he bolted the last couple of steps to close the distance between them and him.

     Sam grabbed Trevor’s hand as he tried to simultaneously gauge the extent of Austin’s injury. As his son’s eyes cleared, Sam looked him over for whatever Trevor had used to hurt Austin and found nothing; no knife, no glass, nothing.

     “Was it claws-like the teeth? One of those phantom things like what happened between us?” Sam asked of Austin, but he boy was muted in fear.

     “Austin!” Sam nearly shouted. “Austin, answer me. Is it one of those things in him that hurt you?”

     “Dad, what’s wrong,” Trevor cut in. His voice was strained with bewilderment, fear and disgust. He’d never liked blood. “Dad, what happened? Did I
do
that?”

     “Trev, calm down. Calm down, bud. I have to figure this out and I can’t if you panic, too, okay? Just be brave for me right now. That’s it.”

     With his father’s gentle insistence, Trevor stopped trying to pull away from him, but still stared with fierce determination away from Austin. Sam was all right with Trevor’s avoidance, but he couldn’t have him running away.

     Kneeling between them, keeping one hand on his son, Sam reached out the other to touch Austin. The teen jumped back, visibly startled, and clutched his arm tighter against his chest. The shirt was going to stain with all the blood soaking it.

     “Austin, please, I’m trying and I’ll keep trying to keep you safe but I need to know what happened if I’m going to help. Tell me what happened, kiddo. Please.”

     It might have been the pleading that got him, or it was Trevor’s stanch resolve to stare guiltily away from the injured teen, but Austin finally was able to compose himself enough to respond to Sam.

     “Worse,” he said, and his voice sounded hoarse with terror. “It’s w-worse than all that, Sam. The things inside us, t-they’re
nothing
compared to that. God, I want to go home.” He said the last on a whimper as he crumpled himself around his injured arm and began to weep.

     Nothing in the exchange had given Sam insight into what Trevor had done. Though he was frustrated, he didn’t take it out on either of the boys. Instead, he kept his hand securely on his son as he drew Austin close to him and held him against the promising strength of his chest. It was all paternal instinct could advise him to do.

     “Tie him to your back or something, Sam,” Austin advised in a trembling voice. “Just keep him touching you somehow. What’s inside him can’t be allowed to do what it wants. Please.”

     “I’ll do what I can,” Sam promised.

     Judging by his expression, Austin either didn’t or couldn’t trust Sam’s words. He nodded, anyway.

     When Sam pulled away, he said to the teen, “Let Laura look at your arm. She’s not a nurse, but she is damn good at taking care of injuries.”