Patrick D'Orazio - Into the Dark

“Is Ben sure they know we’re here? Maybe they’re just wandering around like they always do. Maybe they don’t know… ”

Michael lips were pressed into a frown as he looked at Lydia. She had lifted her head to speak, still holding the children close. Her words faded when she saw the look Michael gave her.

“They are headed right for us.” Michael glanced at Ben as he spoke, a question in his eyes. “Ben estimates that they’ll be here in…?”

Ben shrugged. “The first wave will probably hit the tree line in about fifteen minutes. Maybe less.”

“What? You’ve got to be shittin’ me!” Frank swung around, his eyes frantic as he stared at Ben. “That can’t be true, goddamn it! Those fuckers can’t be that close!” He turned to face Michael, his eyes wild. “We’ve got to get the hell outta here, man. If what he’s sayin’ is true, we’re screwed!”

Michael put his hands on Frank’s shoulders and spoke quietly. “Settle down. Come on, Frank, keep it together.” He repeated the words several times as Frank shook and uttered one word, over and over. “No.” It started out at the same volume as Michael’s words, but grew in pitch until the fat hick shrugged off the hands gripping his shoulders.

“No! I’m not gonna settle down! This is bullshit!” Frank backed away from Michael, his eyes darting everywhere, scanning everyone, until they settled on Jeff. He stiffened.

“It’s that bastard! He’s the one who screwed up everything! It’s all his fault!” Frank stopped moving and almost looked like he wanted to charge at Jeff, but instead remained frozen in place. He clutched the rifle in both hands and raised it, slowly. “He killed Marcus and woke up all those bastards! That stupid son of bitch is to blame! We need to feed his ass to th-”

Ben stepped forward and grabbed the weapon, pushing it into Frank’s chest, sending him sprawling. The rifle stayed in Ben’s hands as Frank landed with a surprised “ooof!” The hick looked stunned as he stared up at the sun-blotting figure of the man above him. His mouth slammed shut when he saw the rabid look on Ben’s face.

After a few moments of the one-sided staring match, Ben turned to Michael, who looked nearly as surprised as Frank, and tossed the rifle at his feet. “Better be careful who you let handle that thing.” He looked back down at Frank, a snarl of contempt on his face. “Some jackass without a clue could end up blowing their damn fool head off. We wouldn’t want that, now would we?” He turned and spat on the ground in disgust as he walked away, ignoring the shocked looks on everyone’s faces.

Michael’s frustration was evident, but whatever desire he had to reprimand the most valuable member of his little clan faded as he moved next to Frank and extended his hand. Frank’s eyes, which had been fixed on Ben, moved toward the proffered hand, and he stared at it dumbly. After another second, he reluctantly took it, glaring at everyone as he did. His demeanor changed when Michael retrieved the fallen rifle and handed it back to him.

Michael turned to face the others. He stiffened his back and spoke.

“We only have a few minutes to prepare the camp for an all-out attack, people. This is no time to screw around or freak out.” He looked over at Frank again, the emphasis clear. “If we’re going to make it, we have to work together.”

Jeff’s eyes widened. He glanced over at Megan and George, who looked as surprised as he did.

“Excuse me, Michael.” He raised his hand as if in a classroom. “Does that mean we plan on staying? We’re going to fight those things?”

Before Michael could respond, Megan chimed in. “We have to leave! Don’t you understand? We have to get out of here before they surround us!” She was not speaking directly to Michael, but to everyone else, who looked as stunned at Michael’s proclamation as she did. The pleading in her eyes matched the tone in her voice. Suddenly, several people were talking all at once, to Michael and to each other. Panic was starting to set in.

“We are NOT leaving, people. LISTEN TO ME!” Michael raised his voice and startled the other survivors into silence. Glancing around, he made sure to catch everyone’s eye. “I am NOT giving up our home that easily. AND NEITHER ARE YOU! We made this fortress to withstand an attack, and WE’RE GONNA DO JUST THAT!”

Michael’s eyes stopped on Jeff. He jabbed his finger at his nemesis and growled. “You coward. You want to run? Well YOU didn’t put this place together, and YOU haven’t busted your ass to make sure it’s safe.” He shook his head in contempt and looked around at the others. “We’ve all run before. But I’m tired of running!” Michael did his best to stare down the entire group. “So we’re going to stay put and deal with this shit.” He pointed at the ground for emphasis. “Right here and right now.”

Michael intended his speech to be a rousing battle cry, but it was clear that very few of the people listening to him were buying into what he was trying to sell. As he stood looking out at the doubt and fear smeared across the faces all around him, he grew even angrier.

“It doesn’t matter that those things are out there. It doesn’t matter how afraid of them you are. What does matter is that We. Are. Not. Leaving!” Michael spat out the words through clenched teeth. “We’re staying put and fighting, people. Get that through your thick skulls!”

“How in the hell do you plan on holding those things off, Michael? And for how long? Have you seen how many of them are out there? Have you been listening?” Jeff paused, letting the moans, which had been background noise for some time now, take center stage. “I saw them, Michael. I saw how many there are. Ben did too! There are hundreds, maybe thousands of them!” He paused again, letting the comment sink in before looking into Michael’s eyes, which were full of hate. “I’m no goddamned coward, but I’m not interested in some sort of last stand either. No one, and I mean NO ONE, is going to remember this Alamo.”

Even with the rage in Michael’s eyes and the tension in his body, Jeff was caught off guard by the fist that came crashing down on his chin. He fell to the ground, his head bouncing off the turf as stars exploded before his eyes.

The M16 was off Michael’s back and pointed at Jeff’s face before he could blink. Any idea that George had of stepping in disappeared as Michael swung the weapon toward him then back at Jeff. The middle-aged man raised his hands, surprised to see the rifle aimed his way. He had barely moved after watching Jeff crumple to the ground, yet Michael seemed prepared for anything. At the same time, Megan screamed and knelt at Jeff’s side while Jason and everyone else looked on in stunned silence.

“Say one more word. Please. Just one.”

Jeff, who had not gotten used to being punched and kicked, despite the events of the past few days, felt dizzy. Michael’s words sounded funny inside his head, as if they were being edited in some sound studio, sliced up and stuttered. When he'd landed, his head had bounced hard. The soil was soft, but the contact was abrupt and made his vision fade for a moment. Even with all the pain and blurriness, he had a good idea of what was happening. He tried to focus as he raised a hand and lip-synced the word “okay.”

Megan looked up at Michael but did not speak as George stepped closer to the two of them. Ben inched forward, and Michael spun around to point the rifle in his direction. Ben slowed to a stop.

“It’s cool, Michael. Relax. We’re all friends here.” Ben had his hands up in a placating gesture. “You’re right, anyhow. We can’t leave.” Michael’s rage was still boiling over, and the words didn’t sink in right away, until he seemed to go blank for a second and blinked. When his eyes fixed back on Ben, they were clearer, more cognizant of what the big man had said.