The Darkness (14 page)

Stephens
picked up a loose branch and pushed it forward into the water, scarring its
surface. As he dragged the branch across the top, the scratch seemed to remain
and then slowly repair itself. When he removed the stick, the liquid pulled off.
Like a rod dipped into mercury, the liquid held together and none remained on
the branch. Where the surface had been broken, the water suddenly began to
bubble—slowly at first, then turning to a boil.

“We
should go,” Jacob said.

Chapter 18

With
their eyes focused on the oily surface of the pond, no one was watching the Others
on the far side. Tyree let out a high-pitched yelp as he backpedaled away from
the bank. Jacob looked up and saw it too; the entire mob had their heads up,
and their dark eyes were looking in the team’s direction. The mass hadn’t
zeroed in on their position, but it sensed them—somehow the mob knew they were
there.

Tyree
continued to scramble back until he was on his feet and off at a run. Jacob followed
him back up the hill at a sprint away from the pond, desperate to increase
separation from the mass. Tyree was out front, breathing hard and oblivious to
his surroundings. He ran head on into one of the armed sentry and plowed
through it. Both of them crashed to the ground, Tyree rolling headfirst to the
grass and the black-eyed man falling back and landing against a tree. Stephens,
who was close behind, maintained his course and ran directly at the thing lying
dazed against the base of the tree. Like going for a long-distance field goal,
he kicked it hard on the side of the head before falling to the ground himself.

Murphy
jogged up and stood over the now unconscious thing, stabbing it once at the
base of the neck for good measure. When he pulled out the blade, he paused,
looking confused.

“What
is it?” Jacob whispered.

“It’s
different… harder or something.” Murphy grabbed a handful of the thing’s shirt
and rolled the body. As before, he took his knife and opened the man’s arm.
Instead of being filled with the black oozing gel, the limb now had thick fibrous
flesh that extended bone deep. Murphy removed the blade and pulled at the
creature’s neck; the same snake-like skin extended up to wrap behind its ears
and the forehead appeared broadened and ridged.

Murphy
wiped the blade on the thing’s shirt before returning the knife to its scabbard
on his belt. Tyree and Stephens got back on their feet and moved closer.
“Whatever is in the pond, it’s changing them,” Murphy whispered.

“Not
changing… replacing,” Jacob responded.

Tyree
turned the man’s head to look at the neck while asking, “What do you mean
‘replacing’?”

“Like
a parasite, or those spiders that lay their eggs in their kills so they can eat
them from the inside out. We’re just a host for whatever that shit is,” Jacob
said, pointing at the black goo.

“Then
we should stop it—put gas in the pond, set it on fire, or something,” Tyree
said.

Murphy
shook his head. “Wouldn’t do any good… not now; these things are everywhere.
This can’t be the only pond. No… we stick to the plan. When we get to the lake,
we can pass this information up the chain.”

The
sounds of branches snapping and things passing through trees startled them.
“Let’s move,” Murphy ordered. “And Tyree… slower this time.”

Stephens
grabbed the younger man. “I got him, Sergeant,” he said, directing Tyree to his
to his front and then moving them out.

Murphy
looked over his shoulder as he turned away from them. “Go on; I’ll be right
behind you.”

Jacob
peeled himself from the damp grass and forced his exhausted legs forward. He
clutched the rifle in his sweaty palms and listened to the sounds of the Others
closing in from behind. Not wanting to lose sight of Tyree and Stephens ahead
of him, Jacob moved quicker. Soon they were back at the wall, and they turned
alongside it so that they were running parallel to the street. They worked
their way north in the direction of the lakeshore while gunfire erupted from
behind. It was more sporadic than before—quick shots of one and two rounds with
long pauses in between, mixed with the explosive crack of fragmentation
grenades.

Ahead
of Jacob, Tyree and Stephens picked up the pace as Stephens looked over his
shoulder. Jacob saw the look on his face. Stephens’ eyes showed fear, his mouth
opened wide, and then he turned away and sprinted as the noise from behind got
louder and closer. Jacob saw bark explode, wood splinter, and tree leaves rip
apart as bullets tore through them.

Murphy
overtook Jacob from behind and, breathing hard, said, “Pick up the pace; they’re
all around us.”

Ahead,
Stephens and Tyree had stopped near a section of a low four foot wall. Tyree
was pulling back the wire as Stephens snipped it with a small pair of cutters.
Tyree dropped the wire and pulled himself up and over the wall while Stephens
turned back, firing to cover Murphy and Jacob’s approach. The rounds were so
close to Jacob’s head that he could hear them zip past.

Jacob
continued running, aiming for the breach in the wall. He hit it fast; without
pausing, he outstretched his arms and thrust himself over the wall. He flew
high and clear, sailing over the top edge and crashing hard into the pavement
on the other side. Landing in a darkened area, he saw rows of railroad tracks
that ran parallel to the wall. Beyond the tracks, he spotted another high
fence.

Murphy
cleared the wall next, and then turned around to fire over the wall into the
mob. “A little help, guys!”

Tyree
had his pistol up and was firing over the wall as Jacob scrambled to his feet
and fell in behind him. He brought up the rifle and fired until his weapon was
dry. He pressed the magazine release button the way Murphy had shown him then
fumbled with his vest for a new one. He gripped the top and slapped it home,
pressing the bolt release. Jacob heard the clunk of the rifle and, feeling
satisfaction that he’d done it right under fire, he brought up the rifle and
squeezed the trigger. Stephens pulled himself over the wall between Tyree and
Murphy then took the loose strands of wire and quickly twisted the ends back
together.

The
mob hit the wall just as Stephens pulled back his hands. The wire screeched and
stretched as the things slammed against it and more attempted to climb over
them. Jacob stepped back when he spotted a shotgun-wielding, heavyset man with
empty eyes trying to scramble over the mob pressed against the wall. Jacob
leveled his rifle then fired into the man and the Others below him. The pile
collapsed, but more quickly filled the space.

Stephens
pulled the pin on a grenade and held it up. “Run!” he screamed as he tossed it
rows deep into the mob on the far side of the fence.

Following
Tyree, Jacob turned and bolted. Rounds zipped past their heads just before the
grenade exploded. They were running across rows and rows of railroad tracks
that ran into the city. Moving east now, they crossed the last set of tracks
and came to the tall wall at the other side. Looking back, Jacob could see the
things had already rebounded from the grenade blast and were pouring over the
fence to charge toward the tracks.

Just
beyond Murphy’s reach, the wall had a deep shelf where maintenance workers
could shimmy along the top. Murphy boosted Jacob up to where he could reach a high
handhold. He held it tight to allow Murphy to climb his back like a ladder.
Stephens and Tyree were similarly working together to scale the wall. Once they
were all at the top, not wasting time, they dropped into deep brush on the far
side. They were in a dark and empty residential area lined with tall duplexes
and apartment buildings on both sides.

“It’s
not far now,” Tyree said. “The golf course is just ahead, past that the
harbor.”

Jacob
could see that beyond the low wire fences was a long row of duplexes. Murphy
directed them forward and into a backyard behind the duplexes. It was a tight-fit
neighborhood where buildings stood close together with narrow strips of grass
and parking structures between them. They now moved quietly, taking their time
and trying to catch their breath as they traveled. Jacob focused on controlling
his breathing; his heart was racing and sweat ran down his forehead and into in
his eyes. He wiped his brow and looked up at Murphy who nodded back at him.
Murphy then stopped and knelt down near an overturned trampoline.

He
surveyed the backyard while his team rested. Murphy pointed toward an old,
weatherworn one-car garage. The structure was pushed back against a clapboard
fence; overgrown weeds and grass poked around the edges of the building.
Normally not a welcoming spot in anyone’s backyard, this morning the forgotten
and neglected structure would be a haven.

Murphy
patrolled ahead, allowing the men to follow close behind as he guided them into
the narrow space between the fence and old garage. He held up a hand to halt
them before he crawled to the far end, peeked around it, and then pushed back.
He concealed himself in the tall grass so that he was hidden from sight but
still could see the approach. Jacob dropped beside Murphy under the cover of
the building. He felt the old, warped wood against his back and, because he
could smell the lake now, he knew they were close.

Stephens
nestled into a tight spot against the building and he rubbed his belly. “Damn,
that enchilada MRE I was saving would be nice right about now.”

Jacob
looked back at him and whispered, “I’d just like a bottle of that water in my
bag.”

Tyree
pulled a small bottle of water from his knapsack. He twisted off the cap and
took a sip before passing the bottle on. Even though his mouth was dry, Jacob
sipped sparingly at the precious liquid. He could have all the water he wanted
once they reached the lake. His stomach growled; Murphy heard the noise and
looked back at him, grinning.

“Me
too, brother,” Murphy said.

Jacob
sat pressed back against the building and listened to the sounds of battle
coming from the city center. Like a violent thunderstorm, the air rumbled and
cracked while the ground shook with the impacts of faraway bombs. The sky was
now filled with smoke and the scent of burning wood and plastic hung heavy in
the air. Helicopters flew back and forth over them as the sun broke the
horizon.

Jacob
closed his eyes and let the warm sun dry his skin. He was exhausted and knew
that he might not get another chance to sleep. His mind raced, thinking about
Laura and Katy. Where were they? And were they safe? Were they worried about
him? Was he doing the right thing? Should he have gone south like the first sergeant
warned him? He must have drifted off and the thoughts became just a small part
of his nightmares until a hand squeezing his shoulder woke him.

He
looked up into the sweaty, dirt-streaked face of Tyree. The young man held a
finger to his lips. Jacob understood and looked across at Murphy who was now
sitting with his knees up, his rifle rested across them, and his eyes to the
rifle sights. Straining, Jacob could pick up the sounds of movement. The Others
were close—and there were a lot of them. He could smell the burnt rubber and
sulfur stench. And the sounds, they didn’t sound like crowds of moving
people—like a parade, or a crowd in a mall—but more like the rush of flowing
water caused by fabric swishing against itself and the gentle plodding of feet
against the pavement.

They
were still hidden behind the garage—Stephens and Tyree to his left, Murphy just
to his right near the fence. In one smooth motion, Murphy rolled to his side
and ducked next to Jacob into the concealment of the garage. Moving on his
belly, he crawled closer to the men, and then leaned forward.

“The
street is packed; they’re moving again,” Murphy said as he looked back at the
fence. He placed his hand on one of the clapboard planks. It was loose and
pulled back easily. “As long as they stick to the streets, we can cut through
the yards. We’re close now.”

Stephens
nodded and moved next to the fence. Together, Murphy and Stephens quietly slid
their hands up the plank, patiently loosening it, one precise pull at a time.
Removing planks and setting them aside, they continued the process on two more
boards until they created a gap in the fence.

Murphy
pointed to Stephens and signaled for him to move out. Stephens quietly
unclipped his rifle from his harness and held it through the gap with one arm
as he stealthily moved through. After a long minute, Stephens’ hand stuck back
through the gap to flash thumbs up, then an open palm to wave them on; Tyree
went next and then Jacob passed through the gap. Stephens shot Jacob a quick
hand signal, positioning him to where he could cover the left. Crouched low and
duck walking ahead, Murphy moved in behind him.

Tall
multi-family homes filled the lot. A beige stucco building was to their front
with windows broken all the way to the roofline, and the front door hung wide
open. Murphy moved them through the carport and halted the group beside a row
of green overflowing dumpsters. Sprawled out in the grass, only feet away, was
the body of a woman, her jacket sleeve torn loose, and Jacob could see she held
a small revolver in her hand.

He
stared at the back of the woman’s head, imagining how she’d gotten there and
sad that she had no one to retrieve her body. Looking beyond the dead woman, he
saw several more bodies. A barrier stood at the end of the carport: an SUV
loaded with belongings. The doors of the vehicle were open to reveal an empty
car seat still strapped to the backbench. Removing the woman’s pistol and
dropping it in a pocket, Stephens scouted ahead to the SUV and searched for
water and food. After a cursory check, he looked back, held up empty hands, and
then patrolled on, quickly covering the open terrain and pressing against the
beige building.