The Darkness (6 page)

Another
large crash was followed by the scream from the girl downstairs—they were at
the house.

“Come
on, mister, you got to open this damn door!”

“What
did you do? You brought them here!” Jacob shouted.

Sounds
of shattering glass erupted from downstairs.

“I
have to help them; when I get back you need to let us in!” Frank yelled.

Jacob
heard Frank running down the stairs yelling, “I’m coming, Joey; hold on, boy!”

The
yelling continued, Frank’s voice no enraged shouting to the others. Jacob
turned to his wife sitting behind him. “Get Katy to the attic.”

“Come
with us,” Laura pleaded.

“I’ll
be right behind you.”

Jacob
moved closer to the door to listen. He heard the screams outside and more glass
breaking below, followed by a shotgun blast. He ran to the closet where Laura was
struggling to get the barely conscious Katy up the shelving. Jacob took his
daughter from Laura and helped his wife up the shelf, using his shoulders to
try to boost her up. He climbed as high as he could, then passed Katy to Laura
through the hole in the ceiling and scrambled up after them. The house was
shaking violently as he pulled himself up through the ceiling joists. He
quickly moved to the center of the attic and kept his wife and daughter behind
him as he looked over the access hole.

“We
have to help them,” Laura said, her voice trembling.

“There
is nothing we can do for them,” Jacob whispered.

Jacob
shook his head and grabbed his wife and daughter in a tight hug as he listened
to the screams below. Gunfire from the first floor, barely audible above the
roar of the things bursting into his home, found its way through the rooms. The
walls shook as it felt like hundreds of them must be pouring through his house.
Jacob watched nervously while the ceiling joists swayed and rattled under the
load of the things below. He left his wife’s side and crawled across on his
belly to the gable vent, wanting to see how many there were. He pressed his eye
against the opening and peered into the street.

The
front yard and the street were filled with them. Shoulder to shoulder, they
crowded and pushed their way into his home. The house heaved and shook with
protest in rhythm to the movement of the mass. Jacob watched in fascination as
the screaming suddenly stopped. The creatures halted their forward momentum and
slowly withdrew. As quickly as they had massed, they collectively dispersed
back into the shadows. The remaining ones in his home slowly bled back into the
street. Jacob saw a tall man cradling the young girl’s body, then another
carrying the boy. Several others vacated the home before he witnessed the gruff
man called Frank being dragged away.

“Where
are they taking them?” Jacob whispered.

***

Thunder
filled the night air as bold lightning strikes flashed in the distance. The
flashes filled the bedroom with light through the gaps in the drapes, a strobe
of patterns that played tricks on his mind as he watched the door. Laura was
curled into the fetal position beside him, cradling Katy as they slept in the
center of the bed. Jacob held the rifle in his hand, splitting his time
watching the bedroom door and peeking through the window. He tried to sleep,
but every slap of thunder thrust him awake so hard it made his chest hurt.

Two
hours had passed since the things left the house without even trying the second
floor, never even moving to the steps. They kept all of their focus on the
visitors below, and the pack left with them in their clutches. Jacob had
watched them move away and vanish from the street, leaving things as if they’d
never been there. He’d then waited until he was sure the things were gone
before returning his family to the bedroom.

Jacob
lay on the bed, listening to the sound of raindrops beating on the roof, the
cadence slowly increasing as the storm intensified and moved over them. He let
his feet touch the floor and moved to the window. Pulling back the drapes, he
saw that the street was filling with water. Without power, the pumps would be
down and basements would soon backup. The cars were still there; the dead man’s
body hanging out and soaked in the pouring rain. He looked across the street at
the ruins of Smitty’s home.

Jacob
thought of Frank’s story of the evacuation at the school. How he had to go back
for his nephew himself. There was no rescue; they had to do it on their own.
“Nobody’s coming,” he whispered. “Nobody.”

A
stirring in the bed snapped his gaze from the street. He turned and watched as
Laura propped herself up on one arm and looked at him. “Anything?” she asked.

Jacob
shook his head and closed the drape before walking back to the bed. He sat down
lightly at the edge, close enough that Laura could put an arm on his shoulder.
A loud rolling of thunder rattled the house, and Jacob flinched with the noise.
“Come to bed; lie down with us,” Laura whispered. “There’s nothing you can do.”

Chapter
5

There was a distant, low
rumbling noise and muffled voices when Jacob opened his eyes. He imagined it
was a dream until he heard them again, along with the growl of a diesel engine.
He jumped from the bed and hurried to the window. Down the street, he saw a
small military convoy moving slowly and deliberately. Green painted trucks,
with men walking along beside them, headed in Jacob’s direction. The convoy
stopped just in front of his wrecked car.

A Humvee, with a man
standing in the turret over a large machine gun, led two large transport vehicles.
As soon as they stopped, more soldiers dismounted the vehicles and stood near
the curbs with their rifles out. Ignoring the destroyed homes, another group of
soldiers ran to the remaining intact front doors, pounding on them and calling
out for survivors.

Jacob watched in amazement
as homes that he’d presumed were abandoned opened their doors. People were
guided out and they hurried to line up at the backs of the trucks. Soldiers
tossed in bags and helped men, women, and children climb steps to board the vehicles.

Rescue! They’re here!
Jacob
thought.

“Now! We have to go now!”
Jacob yelled, jumping to his feet and waking his wife.

Grabbing the cordless
drill, he removed the screws from the door as quickly as he could.

He grabbed the rifle,
slung it across his back, and placed the pistol in its holster. His wife was
fumbling with the backpack. Jacob grabbed it from her and put it over her
shoulder, then lifted Katy. He grabbed Laura by the wrist and pulled her behind
him as he ran for the stairs. He rushed for the already open front door, weaving
through the overturned furniture and stepping over the remains of the
splintered front door. Jacob worried when he saw that the trucks were nearly full.
He called out and caught the attention of a soldier who was near his porch.

“Show me your eyes!” the
soldier ordered, aiming the rifle.

Jacob stopped and raised
his hands staring at the soldier. “We’re okay, we are all fine.”

The soldier looked them
over and pointed a gloved finger at Katy lying in Jacob’s arms. “What’s with
the little one?”

“She is just sick; she
needs a doctor.”

The soldier stepped in
and looked at Jacob closely then down at Katy. He frowned sympathetically and
nodded his head. “Okay. Quickly, we gotta keep moving.” The soldier then yelled
over his shoulder, “We got three more over here.”

Jacob rushed his wife and
daughter ahead of him to the back of the first transport. A soldier was just
beginning to close the canopy. “Sorry, sir, this one is full; try the other
truck.”

 Jacob looked at the man
in shock. He knew there would be no arguing with him so he grabbed his wife’s
arm and dragged her to the second transport.

The soldier had already
removed the stepladder and closed the gate, but when he looked at Jacob and
Katy, his mouth dropped upon seeing the sick girl. “It’s okay. We can make
room. Lift her up!” he said, locking eyes with Jacob.

Jacob lifted his daughter
at the back gate. Someone grabbed her and pulled her on board the truck. He
could hear Katy’s screams as he lost sight of her. He hugged his wife and went
to lift her over the tailgate. From above, a man in a flannel shirt put his
hand in her face and pushed her away. “Truck is full, man!” he yelled.

A second soldier stepped
forward, put a hand on Jacob’s shoulder, and said, “It’s okay; you two can walk
with us.”

 “My daughter is alone in
there,” Jacob yelled. “Just let my wife on.”

He turned and looked at
Laura. “Don’t worry, I’ll find you,” he said before he lifted her again.

The soldier helped lift
Laura, and as she grabbed the top of the truck’s tailgate, a woman on board
grabbed her hand and tried to help pull her in. The man in flannel again came
forward; he tried to peel Laura’s fingers from the gate then went to push an
open palm to her face. “I
said
the truck is—”

Not allowing him to
finish, Jacob let go of his wife and grabbed the man’s wrist. He lifted his leg
to the tailgate and pulled back.

The flannelled man lost
his balance and tumbled head first from the bed of the truck and out to the
street. Hitting hard against the pavement, he lay motionless. Jacob watched as
his wife was lifted up and over the tailgate. A soldier moved Jacob aside and
began fastening down the canopy as shots erupted from behind them. Jacob spun
to see a black-eyed man sprinting toward them, but—already—soldiers were online,
firing. Jacob watched as the thing dropped and rolled to the ground as more
fast-moving runners came into view from down the street.

“Go, go, go,” a soldier
yelled, slapping the side of the truck. He then turned Jacob around and,
pushing him forward, said, “Let’s go, friend, keep up.”

Jacob stared as the truck
slowly moved away. With the gunfire erupting all around him and not knowing
what else to do, he chased after it. He watched as the soldiers fell in beside
him, turning often to check their rear for pursuers. They were moving fast but
not fast enough; the truck was pulling away and the mob was closing on them.

Jacob heard screams of
agony as the swarm overcame the man in flannel. The soldiers stopped; one of
them grabbed Jacob and turned him toward the center of a quickly forming
protective ring. Jacob looked at his surroundings and realized he was the last
civilian remaining on the street, encased in the human shield provided by this
group of soldiers. Hearing the screams and seeing the black eyes approach,
Jacob swung the rifle from his back and held it tightly in his arms.

“Make ’em count, boys!” a
soldier yelled.

The soldiers fired with
chaotic precision. Jacob watched them take quick shots into the crowd and work
as a team, covering each other as another reloaded. Jacob moved to an edge and
prepared to fire but was quickly pushed back to the center. Once the initial wave
was cut down, the men were back on their feet, shouting orders, and directing
Jacob in the direction the trucks had gone. The mob began to close in again;
Jacob saw the Humvee as it circled back over the sidewalk and lawns. Its engine
at a high roar, it raced past them and skidded to a stop in the street. With
the Humvee shielding them from the advancing swarm, the big gun on its roof let
loose a barrage. A
thump, thump, thump
resonated from the big gun up in
the turret, ripping the charging mass apart.

Following the soldiers,
Jacob ran and took cover behind the Humvee with two other men. The big gun cut
down wave after wave of the charging forms while other soldiers covered the sides
and backs. The gunfire became deafening; it disoriented Jacob, and he put his
hands to his ringing ears. When the gunner stopped firing, the street was
suddenly quiet. Jacob turned and saw through the billowing blue smoke that the
transports had moved on in the chaos.

The tight mass of
soldiers began reloading magazines while holding their position and watching
the surrounding neighborhood. Jacob felt lost in the group, and he looked to
the soldier next to him. The man was middle aged—maybe late thirties—and looked
like he hadn’t slept for days. His weather-beaten face was dirty and stubbly
with the makings of an early beard. He wore a tattered army uniform; the
sleeves were torn, and there was a long rip in one pant leg of his trousers.
The man’s knees and elbows were covered in dirt and blood.

“Where did they go?”
Jacob asked.

Pushing loose bullets
into a magazine, the soldier replied, “Back to the park. We’re staging folks
there before moving everyone north.” The soldier finished with his task and
looked up at Jacob. Seeming to notice the way Jacob looked him over, he continued,
“Yeah, I ain’t much to look at; it’s been a rough week.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to
stare.”

The solder waved his hand,
dismissing Jacob’s apology. “You know, I saw what you did back there,” the
soldier said. “The man on the truck.”

 “I won’t apologize. He
wouldn’t let my wife on the truck,” Jacob said.

“Yeah… he was an asshole.
I’ve lost a lot of
good
men the last few days. I won’t be shedding any
tears for that one,” the soldier replied and then extending a gloved hand. “By
the way, my name’s Murphy.”

Jacob returned the
handshake. “I’m Jacob.”

Murphy gripped Jacob’s
hand firmly and pulled him in close so the others couldn’t hear. “Listen, I
ain’t gonna sugarcoat this for you. They’ll be back and when they come, they’ll
come hard. You need to get that weapon up and be ready to use it; do you
understand? You can’t cower.”

“I got it,” Jacob said,
suddenly unsure of himself and missing the security of his second-floor safe
zone.

More screams erupted from
all around them, signifying the things were out there roaming the backyards of
the homes.

“Well, that didn’t take
long,” Murphy said under his breath. The soldier then rose to his feet and yelled
as he brought up the rifle, “Lock and load, boys—it’s time to pay the bills!”

The mob had somehow managed
to completely surround their position. Instead of coming back at them from down
the street, they had slipped through the backyards and were pouring at them
from between the houses. The turret gun opened up, sweeping and hitting
everything it could, and the soldiers on both sides of Jacob fired their rifles.
Jacob pulled the .22 rifle tight to his shoulder and took aim before pulling
the trigger, switching targets until his only magazine was empty. Then he drew
the handgun from its holster.

The deranged things had
gotten in close. He watched as a soldier was hit from behind and knocked to the
street. A black-eyed man tried to drag him away, and as another soldier went to
his aid, he was quickly taken down with him. More climbed over the hood of the
Humvee and swamped the mounted machine gunner from behind. The gun fired
wildly, the gunner refusing to be taken down without a fight.

Jacob looked up the
street in the direction the trucks had moved. He stood and contemplated running
after them. His hands were shaking with fear. His ears were ringing from the
close proximity of the gunshots, the screams blocking out his thoughts. He
raised his pistol when he saw another wave of the mob closing on him. He aimed
straight into the chest of the closest one and fired until the slide locked to
the rear.

They were all over him
now; they leapt and tackled him to the ground, then more piled on. Jacob tried
to fight back but was pressed against the pavement with his head turned to the
side. He could feel the things tugging at his legs, trying to drag him off. He
heard the clang on the street beside him and recognized the round metallic
object that was rolling in his direction. He closed his eyes tight and waited
for the explosion he was sure would come.