Patrick D'Orazio - Into the Dark

“Didn’t he shoot a man who had a rifle pointed at your head, Jeff? The very same rifle we found in your van?”

Michael paused as Jeff open his eyes and focused on him. There was a look of sickly sweet concern on Michael’s face, but Jeff could see the satisfaction hidden beneath it.

Before he could respond, Michael moved toward George.

“And didn’t he take care of one of the infected for you?” George stiffened when Michael placed a hand on his shoulder. “Didn’t he take a stick… ” He looked at Jason, “It was a stick, wasn’t it?” Michael turned back to George before the boy could respond. “He took a stick and beat one of those things to death with it.” He was whispering now, carefully enunciating each word. “He beat it to death while you watched, right?”

Michael lingered in front of George for a few more moments. Jeff could see that his friend was reliving what had happened back when he had escaped from the high school gymnasium with Jason. Before, there had been anger or perhaps embarrassment written on George’s face. Now it looked more like regret.

Satisfied, Michael slid away from George and faced Jeff.

“So tell me, gentlemen. Please enlighten me. Why on earth should I refuse the boy a chance to go back out there with us when he can clearly take care of himself?” He stared at Jeff. “Maybe even better than the two of you can.”

Frank snickered behind them, mumbling, “You got that right.” He moved toward Jason and grabbed the kid by the shoulder. He squeezed it, shaking him in an excessive show of camaraderie. Jeff looked on, the contempt in his eyes for the fat man hard to hide.

Gritting his teeth, Jeff forced his eyes away from Frank. He knew what he had to do. He glared at Michael, took a deep breath, and let it out in a slow hiss.

“Be that as it may, he’s still a boy. He’s not going. I won’t allow it.”

For a moment, Michael looked shocked. As he digested Jeff’s comment, his expression morphed into something closer to anger. Any trace of the smug smile he had before was gone.

“So you think you have that kind of authority?”

The words were made of gravel, rough and raspy. Michael was holding his rage in check, but looked anxious to unleash it. Jeff swallowed hard, stiffened his resolve and replied.

“I do. When it comes to my people, I sure as hell do. Not you or anyone else in this camp other than me, George, and Megan gets to decide what happens to that kid. He was our responsibility when we got here, and he will be when we leave.”

There was ice in Michael’s eyes as his lip curled into a snarl. “Oh, so you’re planning on leaving now, huh?”

“No, we plan on staying.”

They both looked at George. His voice was a surprise, an oddity in the conversation from which it had been absent for so long. His interjection was like a small explosion that startled the two other men.

Neither spoke as they stared at him. George moved between them and faced Michael. “We plan on staying. But if we do, you’ll have to respect our wishes.”

Michael’s lip quivered in surprise. His anger was diluted with confusion. “I thought you wanted to find your family, George? I thought you wanted to run off and leave us all behind.”

George moved closer to Michael, and Jeff stepped back involuntarily. He was no longer a part of the conversation.

“I’ll stay. I’ll go with you on this scavenger hunt or whatever you’re calling it. I’ll do whatever needs to be done. But the boy stays in the camp.” He moved to within six inches of Michael, his eyes narrowing to pinpoints as he glared at the man who was the same height, but fifty pounds lighter.

“Let me make this perfectly clear. If you try to take the boy with us, I’m leaving. I’ll walk right out of here. Your men can shoot me in the back, but otherwise, fuck you.” He bumped the other man’s chest with his own. “But before I go, I’ll snap your neck and toss you outside for those monsters to eat. I swear to God no one will be able to tear me off of you before you die.”

Jeff watched, his eyes growing wider with every word. Michael’s expression never changed, but his body went rigid with tension. George turned and stalked off.

“But what about your family, George? Won’t they be lonely without you?”

George froze, and Jeff could see the murderous look on his face. Apparently so did Ben, who tipped his hat up off of his eyes and watched the proceedings with much greater interest.

George walked back toward Michael, and Ben leaned forward in his chair, ready to spring to his feet. Jeff took a step back and noticed Frank getting out of the way as well. George stopped a few feet from Michael. His fists were clenched and air hissed between his teeth as he breathed. His fair complexion had turned crimson, and he looked like a volcano about to erupt.

Michael stood relaxed, motionless, but Jeff could see the fear the leader was carefully trying to conceal. He had not expected George to respond to the snide comment and was fighting to look nonplussed in the face of the thickly muscled man standing before him.

George’s color gradually returned to normal, and the throbbing vein on his forehead settled. The hissing of his breath stopped, but the look of raw hatred for Michael remained on his face.

“Don’t ever speak about my family again. Ever.”

George turned and marched off. Michael continued to stare at him as he walked away, his shoulders slumping in relief even as he tried to maintain a nonchalant air.

When he had composed himself, Michael looked around the camp again. “Fifteen minutes, people! Get your shit together and let’s get rolling!” He was already moving back toward his RV before he was done speaking. He slipped past Cindy and opened the door, slamming it shut behind him. She lingered outside for a moment, her eyes filled with malignant glee, as if she had enjoyed the argument immensely. Jeff watched as she turned and followed her boyfriend inside.

His eyes fell on Jason. The boy looked stunned by what had happened, and when he saw Jeff staring at him with anger in his eyes, he took off running across the courtyard. He reached their RV and fumbled with the door for a moment before charging inside, slamming it shut behind him.

Megan stood up as Jason ran by, calling to him, but he ignored her. She followed him to the RV door, banging on it at first and then trying to open it. When she realized it was locked, she went back to pounding on it. Jeff watched as Lydia stood up and walked over to her, taking the emaciated woman by the shoulders and whispering in her ear. Carefully, Lydia pulled Megan back toward the fire pit.

Jeff looked at George, who was sitting by himself at one of the tables, his head in his hands. Walking over, he noticed that Ben had his hat back down over his eyes, as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. He looked over at Frank as well. He was taking a swig out of a silver flask, and when he saw Jeff staring, he gave him a nasty grin.

George spoke first when Jeff reached him.

“Don’t worry about me, Jeff. Jason’s safe; that’s all that matters.” George raised his head. His voice was hollow and his eyes glassy. He looked almost frail, despite his stocky frame.

“I’m sorry, George. I tried… ” Jeff’s voice drifted off as George shook his head and rubbed his eyes. His shoulders began to shake, and Jeff timidly moved forward, thinking his friend was crying.

George moved his hands away and, to Jeff’s relief, revealed that he was not crying, just breathing heavily. “I know, Jeff. Don’t worry about it.”

George stared out past the walls, his eyes distant.

“You know, for nearly six weeks, I cowered in that church with Jason. We never did anything together but hide away from the world. I was so focused on getting to my family that I completely forgot about him… about what was going through his mind.” Jeff jumped when George slammed a meaty fist on the table. “I didn’t give a shit about him.”