Fall of Night (Dead of Night Series) (53 page)

The darkness pulsed with the red and blue of police lights; the banshee wail of sirens tore apart the shadows of the California night.

The child in his arms screamed and screamed and screamed.

Tom clutched little Benny to his chest. He could feel his brother’s tiny heart beating like the flutter of dragonfly wings. His own felt like a bass drum being pounded by a madman. Sweat ran down his chest and mixed with the toddler’s tears.

Tom turned once and saw them.

He saw her first.

Standing in the window, her arms reaching toward him. She was so pale, so beautiful. Like a ghost in a dream. Her dark eyes were wide with terror, her mouth shaped words that were lost in all the noise. He knew what those words were, though. Just one word really, said over and over again.

“Go!”

Tom ran. He felt like a coward.

Tom Imura, the police cadet. Tough, top of his class. Tom, the martial artist, with black belts and trophies and certificates. Tom, the fighter.

Tom, the coward.

Running.

“I’m sorry!” he yelled, but he was sure Mom didn’t hear him.

And then he saw the other figure. Paler, larger, infinitely stranger, coming out of the shadows of the bedroom, reaching as Mom had reached, but not reaching for Tom and Benny. Those pale hands reached for her. For Mom. Reached for her, and dragged her back into darkness.

With all of the sirens and gunfire and the pounding of his own heart, Tom could not have heard her screams. He could not have.

And yet they echoed in his head. In his arms, Benny kept screaming.

Tom screamed, too.

Pale shapes lurched toward him from the shadows. Some of them were victims—bleeding, eyes wide with shock and incomprehension. Others were them. The things. The monsters. Whatever they were.

Tom had weapons in his car. His pistol—which he wasn’t even allowed to carry yet because he didn’t graduate from the police academy until tomorrow—and his stuff from the dojo. His sword, some fighting sticks.

Should he risk it? Could he risk it?

The car was at the end of the block. He had the keys, but the streets were clogged with emergency vehicles. Even if he got his gear, could he find a way to drive out?

No. Buildings were on fire. Fire trucks and crashed cars were like a wall.

But the weapons.

The weapons.

Benny screamed. The monsters shambled after him.

“Go!” his mother had said. “Take Benny … keep him safe. Go!”

Just … go.

He ran to the parked car. Benny was struggling in his arms, hitting him, fighting to try and get free.

Tom held him with one arm—an arm that already ached from carrying his brother—and fished in his pocket for the keys. Found them. Found the lock. Opened the door, popped the trunk.

Gun in the glove compartment. Ammunition in the trunk. Sword in the trunk.

Shapes moved toward him. He could hear their moans.

He turned a wild eye toward one as it reached for the child Tom carried.

Tom shouted in terror. He lashed out with a kick, driving the thing back, splintering its leg. It fell, but it was not hurt. Not in any real sense of being hurt. As soon as it crashed down it began to crawl toward him.

It was unreal. Tom understood that this thing was dead. It was Mr. Harrison from three doors down and it was also a dead thing. A monster.

Benny kept screaming.

Tom lifted the trunk hood and shoved Benny inside. Then he grabbed his sword. There was no time to remove the trigger lock on the gun. They were coming. They were here.

He slammed the hood, trapping the screaming Benny inside the trunk even as Tom ripped the sword from its sheath.

Three terrible minutes later, Tom unlocked the trunk and opened it.

Benny was cowering in the back of the trunk, huddled against Tom’s gym bag. Tears and snot were pasted on his face. Benny opened his mouth to scream again, but he stopped. When he saw Tom, he stopped.

Tom stood there, the sword held loosely in one hand, the keys in the other.

Tom was covered with blood. The sword was covered with blood.

The bodies around the car … more than a dozen of them were covered with blood.

Benny screamed.

Not because he understood—he was far too young for that—but because the smell of blood reminded him of Dad. Of home. Benny wanted his mom.

He screamed and Tom stood there, trembling from head to toe. Tears broke from his eyes and fell in burning silver lines down his face.

“I’m sorry, Benny,” he said in a voice that was as broken as the world.

Tom tore off his blood-splattered shirt. The T-shirt he wore underneath was stained but not as badly. Tom shivered as he lifted Benny and held him close. Benny beat at him with tiny fists.

“I’m sorry,” Tom said again.

He gathered up what he could carry, turned, and with Benny in one arm and his sword in his other hand, Tom ran into the night as the world burned around him.

CHAPTER ONE-HUNDRED THIRTY-FIVE

EAST COMPTON

LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA

“
This is Billy Trout, reporting live from the apocalypse
…”

The car sat in the middle of the street with the radio playing at full blast.

All four doors were open.

The voice on the radio was saying that this was the end of the world.

There was no one in the car, no one in the streets. No one in any of the houses or stores. There wasn’t a single living soul to hear the reporter’s message.

It didn’t matter, though.

They already knew.

*DPGROUP.ORG*

ALSO BY JONATHAN MABERRY

NOVELS

Code Zero

Extinction Machine

Assassin’s Code

King of Plagues

The Dragon Factory

Patient Zero

Joe Ledger: Special Ops

Dead of Night

The Wolfman

The Nightsiders: The Orphan Army

Deadlands: Ghostwalkers

Watch Over Me

Fire & Ash

Flesh & Bone

Dust & Decay

Rot & Ruin

Bad Moon Rising

Dead Man’s Song

Ghost Road Blues

V-Wars
(editor)

V-Wars: Blood and Fire
(editor)

Out of Tune
(editor)

NONFICTION

Wanted Undead or Alive

They Bite

Zombie CSU

The Cryptopedia

Vampire Universe

Vampire Slayer’s Field Guide to the Undead
(as Shane MacDougall)

Ultimate Jujutsu

Ultimate Sparring

The Martial Arts Student Logbook

Judo and You

GRAPHIC NOVELS

Marvel Universe vs. Wolverine

Marvel Universe vs. The Punisher

Marvel Universe vs. The Avengers

Captain America: Hail Hydra

Klaws of the Panther

Doomwar

Black Panther: Power

Marvel Zombies Return

Rot & Ruin

V-Wars: The Court of the Crimson Queen

Bad Blood

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Jonathan Maberry is the
New York Times
bestselling and multiple Bram Stoker Award–winning author of
Code Zero, Dead of Night, Patient Zero,
The Pine Deep Trilogy,
The Wolfman, Zombie CSU,
and
They Bite,
among others. His work for Marvel Comics includes The Punisher, Wolverine, DoomWar, Marvel Zombies Return, and Black Panther.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

FALL OF NIGHT.
Copyright © 2014 by Jonathan Maberry. All rights reserved. For information, address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.

www.stmartins.com

Cover design by Rob Grom

Cover photograph ©
Shutterstock.com

eBooks may be purchased for business or promotional use. For information on bulk purchases, please contact Macmillan Corporate and Premium Sales Department by writing to [email protected].

The Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available upon request.

ISBN 978-1-250-03494-6 (trade paperback)

ISBN 978-1-250-03495-3 (e-book)

e-ISBN 9781250034953

First Edition: September 2014

Visit
stmartins.com/jonathanmaberry