Patrick D'Orazio - Into the Dark

His eyes burned into them. Teddy was still clutching at Ray, and Lydia had given up trying to pry him away. Instead, she leaned over him and whispered in his ear, rubbing his back.

“Everyone, move out!” Michael waved the rifle and motioned the survivors toward the RV. No one moved at first, and he hissed in frustration.

He went to Frank, who looked afraid of the other man. “Get them all aboard. Do it. Now.” He glared at his underling until Frank bobbed his head and walked away. The rotund hick looked relieved, as if he had barely escaped becoming Michael’s next victim. He waved everyone into the RV. They dragged their feet, a fatalistic look in their eyes.

As Jeff moved toward the RV, his eyes stayed locked on Michael, who was holding Cindy by the arm and giving her a command. She appeared to be the only person besides the leader who wasn’t upset by what had happened. Jeff was not surprised. He watched her bob her head and run toward Ben’s RV. Michael turned back to the others after she left. He kept waving the rifle, urging everyone to move at a faster clip.

Ben had regained his composure and moved over to Lydia and Teddy. He knelt over them and spoke to Teddy. The boy shook his head violently. Ben spoke again, and the boy’s thin chest hitched a couple of times before he finally nodded. Ben helped him up, and the three of them moved toward Michael’s Winnebago.

A few moments later, several heads turned at the sound of Ben’s RV starting up. They had been on top of it only minutes before, and now it was rocking violently, the infected excited by the sound of the engine roaring to life. With the increase in volume, all hesitation disappeared. Everyone, including Michael, moved rapidly toward the door of his trailer. Cindy was right behind, running across the courtyard.

Fear clung to everyone as they climbed aboard and moved to the back of the luxury cruiser. Cindy and Frank remained up front with Michael, each of them clinging to the remains of their small arsenal. When everyone was on board and settled, Michael shut the door and faced his crew.

No one spoke, but the trailer was noisy as fists and other body parts smashed into the outer wall. The windows were still intact, and the shades were pulled. None of the survivors was interested in moving them to snatch a quick look outside. There was a large piece of cardboard covering the front windshield as well, making the trailer seem cold and dark once the door was shut.

“We’ll wait a bit before we take off.” Michael’s words were a whisper. “Maybe some more of them will move toward Ben’s RV since its engine’s on.”

The hailstorm of fists did slow, and the sounds of moaning dissipated after a few minutes. Frank had his ear to the passenger window, and when he moved away, he gave Michael a halfhearted shrug. That seemed to be good enough, as Michael reached down and slid his key into the ignition. He nodded at Cindy, and she tore away the cardboard on the windshield.

Michael turned the key, and the diesel engine spit and growled. All that could be seen through the windshield was the back of Lydia’s RV. The right edge of its bumper was touching the right edge of Michael’s. To the left was their path to freedom along with a crowd of unsuspecting stiffs making their way toward Ben’s RV. Michael spun the wheel and flipped the gearshift into reverse. The Winnebago was equipped with a rearview monitor, and he stared at it as he carefully backed away from Frank and Marcus’s RV, which was situated behind them. Several thuds indicated that a few of the ghouls had shifted direction and were coming back. Michael pressed down on the gas, feeding the vehicle more and more until the tires elevated, climbing out of their ruts. The protesting screech as the side of the RV grazed Frank’s trailer made everyone cringe. After easing back until they were clear, Michael twisted the wheel again and flipped the big machine into drive.

He stared ahead at the world beyond the windshield. They were driving into hell, and everyone in the RV knew it.

Michael slammed his foot on the gas pedal, and they rumbled forward, directly into a crowd of rotting bodies waiting for them with outstretched, welcoming arms.