Read Online What Happens in the Darkness by Monica J. O'Rourke - Free Book Online Page A

plaster crumbling and dusting her hair and shoulders. She touched a trembling foot to the track beneath the entrance to the car, bringing her body slowly up to meet it. Listening—for what? sounds of life, breathing, gasping, moaning … ? A snort, a laugh, a wheeze, anything at all that would cause her to leave her senses completely, something so horrible she would run blindly through pitchy tunnels, yelling and screaming for her dead mommy.
    She inched past the open car door, her back to the wall.
    She had to face the train—refused to turn her back to it—but no way would she shine the light inside.
    She passed the open door and made it to the next car. Her breath came out in ragged, painful puffs, and dots danced in front of her eyes.
    Her body refused to move any farther. Knees locked, legs quivering like jelly.
    A slithering, rubbing sound beside her.
    Near the open car door.
    Nothing on earth could have convinced her to point a light back in that direction. She finally moved again, much more quickly than before, not caring about anything as she escaped from the horrible train and found the tracks again.
    Up ahead was a figure, too far to clearly make out. But not tall enough to be the bad man.
    “Hello?” she called out.
    The figure wasn’t moving.
    She stopped. “Hello?”
    Should she run back? But to what—the subway car, the dead woman and her son?
    But moving forward felt impossible.
    If he was a good man, why was he just standing there? He should have said something by now.
    Janelle swallowed, decided to keep moving forward. She couldn’t let him stop her.
    When she was a few feet away she shined the light in his face.
    Her dead father stared back. 
     
    *** 
     
    Walking around the compound, they passed mounds of rubble that had once been barracks and offices and official buildings.
    Martin touched everything they passed. Pebbles lay strewn at his feet, and he bent to retrieve a small handful, caressing them in his palm as if they were delicate silk. “It’s worse than I imagined,” he said, gesturing at the leveled buildings. “This is horrible.”
    “You were safe underground.”
    “Safe.” He smiled, but his eyes were distant, humorless. “Believe me, I didn’t feel—”
    “I’m sorry. Stupid thing to say.”
    Martin squatted beside a Toyota-sized chunk of concrete that had formerly been the roof of the library. A daisy, the only other sign of life, jutted from between rocks, and he plucked it.
    “Some things survive,” he said. “No matter what.”
    “And yet you kill it.” Jeff rested against the chunk of concrete.
    The moon provided the only light, full but blurred by dust and debris. Jeff doubted he’d ever see a clear night again.
    “I’ll need more help,” Martin said, leaning back against the rock and lifting his face into the breeze, looking as if he were in the throes of orgasm. “We can’t do this alone.”
    “Who do you plan to recruit?”
    Martin grinned, the meager moonlight reflecting off his bone-white teeth. “Recruit? Ah, you military men.”
    “You know what I mean.”
    “Doesn’t matter. Whoever I choose will be loyal. I’ll have my army.”
    “Loyal? Huh.”
    Martin held the daisy up to his nose and inhaled. “Are you interested?”
    “Interested in what?” But he knew.
    “In joining me.”
    “Not at all, Martin.”
    “You’d make a wonderful second in command.”
    “Not interested.”
    “I could force you. I don’t have to ask.”
    “Yeah, you could,” Jeff said. “But you won’t. I’ve never had to worry about this before. I never felt unsafe around you.”
    “Not when there were bars separating us.”
    This conversation unsettled Jeff. He changed the subject back. “So who are you planning to recruit?”
    Martin stood, wiping chalky dust from the seat of his pants. “The people in this country will be in sorry shape. But that won’t matter, after. I believe siring them will be safer than trying to … recruit … enemy soldiers.