Patrick D'Orazio - Coming the Dark

Megan gave Jeff a fierce stare until he sighed and nodded again. She could see the slight touch of regret in his eyes and did her best to ignore it.

He looked at the house, sizing it up. “Let’s stick together, but stay a few feet back from me. We need to check things out around back before we try to figure out how to get inside.”

Megan nodded and waved him forward.

“After you.”

Jeff smiled and moved past her. He fumbled with the flashlight, attempting to shove it through a belt loop in his jeans. It wouldn’t fit and Megan rolled her eyes. She stepped up and took it from him, holding it comfortably in her left hand as she hefted the revolver in her right.

“I’ll give it back whenever you need it,” she assured him.

Jeff nodded as he gripped the baseball bat more easily with both hands. The late afternoon sun beat down on them as they moved around to the back of the house. There was no fence, so the trip took only a few seconds. He wiped the sweat from his brow and moved toward the patio. The sliding glass door was intact and a big couch with a loveseat on top of it had been pushed against the doors. Jeff looked at the first-floor windows and saw they were blacked out with what appeared to be garbage bags. No glass had been shattered. Backing up, he could see that the second-story windows had the shades pulled just like out front. Megan came around the corner, and he gave her a thumbs-up before heading to the other side of the house.

The garage door was almost identical to the one Jeff had on his house: aluminum painted beige. Whereas his had no windows, this one had two, both of which were covered with black garbage bags as well. He checked the handle on the garage door, twisting it quietly. It was locked. He tapped the bat against the windowpane gently. It did not sound as though there were any sort of reinforcement behind the garbage bag to prevent the glass from being smashed in.

“You gonna break it?” Jeff nearly jumped out of his skin when Megan’s question came from directly behind him.

“Jesus, woman!” he said as he grabbed at his chest. Megan’s face split into a grin despite Jeff’s obvious irritation.

“Sorry,” was all she said, without a speck of sincerity. After a moment, he had to smile too. He made an exaggerated gesture as though he were going to club her with the bat, and they laughed together. Jeff shook his head and moved to the front of the house with Megan following. He walked to the front door and tried the knob. Two quick twists and he dropped his hand.

“Why don’t you just ring the doorbell?”

Jeff glanced over at Megan, and she explained. “I mean, what difference does it make? You can’t hear it out here. Look around you.” She waved the gun at their deathly silent surroundings. “We have been talking out loud and driving the van, and no one has noticed.”

She had a point. Jeff nodded.

“Here goes nothing.”

He pressed the button. Expecting to hear chimes, he was surprised when there was nothing. Megan leaned forward and pushed the button as well, repeatedly.

“Come on,” she said, irritated, and Jeff began to laugh quietly. She looked at him.

“Boy, aren’t we a pair?” Megan continued to stare quizzically at Jeff. “Did we think that the electricity had come back on all of a sudden?” She sighed and shook her head, feeling stupid.

“Ding dong, dumbasses calling,” she said and barked out a short self-deprecating laugh.

“Well, how about we just knock?” Jeff banged on the door. The silent response was deafening.

“Maybe they’re upstairs sleeping.” He looked skeptical at Megan’s suggestion but rapped the edge of the door again, harder this time. The doorframe rattled under the blows. Megan looked nervously up and down the street but saw that the sound wasn’t drawing any undue attention.

Jeff motioned for her to step back. He wound up and took a full swing at the glass with the bat. A spider web appeared in it, but the ornate decorative display glass had lines of metal running through it. It would take several blows to knock it out.

“The side door would probably be a better bet,” Megan said as he swung again. Jeff ignored her and took several more swings before he paused, staring at the glass, which was cracked but still in place.

“Fuck it,” Jeff grumbled as he moved back to the side of the house. Megan hid her smile as she followed. He had already rammed the bat through one of the glass panels on the side door, shattering it, by the time she got there. “Nothing behind it,” he commented, sticking the bat through the hole to lift the garbage bag and get a view inside. He motioned for her to hand him the flashlight.

He clicked the Maglite on and swept the beam across the garage floor. Satisfied, Jeff set the bat down and reached inside for the deadbolt. It clicked open, and they walked in.

The garage was jammed full of stacks of junk and an old Pontiac sedan. There were bags of clothes and several pieces of broken furniture. The claw hammer lying on top of one of the disassembled chairs led Jeff to believe that the wood was what the family had used in their effort to barricade the place.

His eyes narrowed as he stared past the piles of clothes and wood. It appeared that no one had broken into the place before them, yet no one had responded to all the noise they had made. The place smelled musty, but that was a major improvement over the charnel house smell of the rest of the neighborhood.

Testing the knob, Jeff was surprised to find the interior door unlocked. He opened it a crack and nudged the flashlight against it. Megan tensed and held the revolver with both hands. When nothing happened, she relaxed slightly but kept a tight grip on the gun.

They moved inside. Particles of dust danced in the flashlight’s beam as Jeff surveyed the kitchen, splashing light in the shadows. Listening for any movement, they moved across the floor carefully. The kitchen and family area were combined in one large room, giving the two of them a clear view across the house. Splinters of light filtered in through the gaps in the couch barricade at the back door. Other windows had the ubiquitous black bags taped over them, but whoever had done it had not done the best job, and enough light trickled in that Jeff could turn off the flashlight.

Megan noticed a pile of empty cans and cereal boxes stacked in and around the trashcan in the kitchen and pointed it out to Jeff. He nodded. Someone had been staying here and, from the looks of things, had remained for quite some time. Other debris, including empty milk jugs, was scattered across the floor. A quick search of the pantry and kitchen cabinets revealed no more traces of food…at least not anything edible.

The garage had been musty, but the air inside the house was a bit riper. Jeff could smell the familiar stench of defecation that tended to overwhelm everything else once the toilets stopped working and there was no way to get rid of the human waste.

He was looking at the dual staircase leading down to the basement and up to the second floor when he heard a door creak open behind him and a sudden gagging noise.

Turning quickly, he saw Megan running to the kitchen sink. As he rushed to see what had happened, he was hit by a wall of foulness that nearly knocked him over. Pulling up his sweatshirt, he covered his nose and mouth, but the rich smell of feces was overpowering. As Megan began to retch into the sink, he turned and discovered the source of this new and far more potent odor.

Shaking his head, Jeff pushed the bathroom door shut. He did not bother looking inside but could guess that there were buckets or other containers filled with piss and shit. Looking down, he saw the towel that had acted as a seal to keep as much of the smell inside the bathroom as possible.