Rowan Steele - The Dying Light

Before he even said anything, she knew that wouldn’t fly. He confirmed it with his next words.

“No. No shelter,” he said.

“Why?” she asked.

“Because shelter means people, and people mean danger. Haven’t you figure that out yet?” he asked.

“All I know is that you ran over somebody,” she snapped.

“What do you think that somebody would have done to us if I’d give it the chance?” he asked.

Cassandra had no answer, and she didn’t even try to argue. She didn’t want to accept it, but she knew what the man said was true. Still, they needed a plan.

“So are we going to go?” she asked.

“West,” he said.

“What’s west?”

“It doesn’t matter what’s west. What matters is what’s not west. And this is not west,” he said.

“You’re not making any sense. Something is going on, and we have to—”

Cassandra’s words died in her throat when she looked up ahead.

Shit.

Almost instantly, Jack realized what he had done, but that realization came too late.

There was no time to reverse, and there was no way he could maneuver around the Humvee that blocked the road.

He hadn’t liked being in the open like that, exposed, but he still didn’t know what he was dealing with, and he’d meant it when he told the woman they needed to be away from people.

But he’d been so distracted that he’d driven them directly into a trap.

“Get out of the vehicle.”

The firm voice came across the speaker system that Jack knew was installed in the Humvee, and he cringed. If that woman’s car locks had been like ringing the dinner bell, he didn’t want to think about the attention the speaker would draw.

He didn’t want to risk them using it again, so he got out of the car. The woman followed suit.

“Soldier,” Jack said, nodding at the man sitting on the passenger side of the Humvee holding the intercom.

Jack pegged the man at about ten years younger than his thirty-five, and he could clearly see he was the oldest of the crew. Jack spotted two others and the driver in front and figured there was an equal number in the vehicle behind, though he didn’t look.

However many there were, Jack was outnumbered, and without a weapon, he had no shot. When a man in the passenger side got out of the vehicle, Jack figured he had made the same calculation.

He walked toward Jack and the woman briskly, looking businesslike, almost impatient.

“There’s a curfew. Why are you on the streets?” he asked.

“We didn’t know about a curfew,” Jack said.

“Where the fuck have you been?” he asked.

Jack heard the snickers from a few the man behind and risked taking his eyes off the guy in front to look. Three others had gotten out of the vehicle.

“We got trapped in an elevator. Only just managed to get out,” Jack said.

“Aren’t you lucky?” he said.

“We hope so,” Jack responded, knowing the solider picked up on what he was asking.

The man didn’t respond but instead walked around the vehicle and came to stop next to the woman.

He studied her intently but then looked back to the vehicle.

“Your car is in good shape,” he said.

“Yeah, like a said, we just got out of an elevator,” Jack said.

“Well, I hate to be the bearer of bad news. We’re in some deep shit. The president has declared martial law,” the solider said.

“What kind of shit?” Jack asked.

“The kind there’s no getting out of,” came the reply.

“Is there something we can do to help?” the woman asked.

He looked at her and noticed that her expression seemed worried but also optimistic.

“That’s an interesting question,” the soldier said.

There was no way the woman missed the implication of his words, but she overlooked it.

“We have some water on the backseat. A couple of granola bars. It’s not a lot, but if it would help…”

“Is that all you have to offer?” he asked.

“You can take the car,” Jack said.

That got the soldier’s attention and he looked from the woman to Jack.

“What am I supposed to do this piece of shit?” he asked.

“It’s electric. I figure some smart guys like you could do something with that much battery power,” Jack said.

“Electric, huh?” the soldier said.

He circled the vehicle, looking at it.

“Where’s the water?” he said.

He’d come to a stop next to the woman again and stood close to her as she opened the door and reached into the backseat.

“Here’s some. And there’s more the trunk,” she said.

“Roberts!” the soldier called. He could see the woman wanted to flinch, but she kept it together. “Get this car.”

“We appreciate your patriotism,” he said, still standing close to the woman.

“You’re welcome,” she responded. She sounded a little bit afraid but was holding it together admirably.

“Can you point us in the direction of the nearest shelter?” Jack asked.

“East. Everybody’s in that huge church that has a coffee shop in the lobby,” the solider said.

“I know it,” woman whispered.

“Well, good luck,” soldier said. “I’d be sad to see anything happen to you.”

“I’m sure I’ll be fine. I hope the water helps,” she said.

Then, without looking at Jack, she started to walk away.

He took her cue and followed.

He could feel the soldiers watching as they walked away, but, mirroring the woman, he didn’t look back.

That had been close, on the verge of getting ugly, and he didn’t want to exacerbate it.

He also didn’t like the idea of being out here, exposed, but he’d make the best of it.

Jack kept walking without looking back until he heard the Humvee crank, no doubt to get back into position for the next person that might come along.

At the same time, he tried to keep his eyes open, to take in everything that he possibly could.

So far, the street had been deserted, and as they walked, he saw nothing. Everything on the street looked pristine, like it was any old normal, quiet day.

It wasn’t, and Jack felt even more urgency than he had before. Things might look good here, but he knew everything could change in an instant.

He needed to be ready.

He didn’t know if he could be.

They kept walking and had made it about a mile from Jack’s best guess.

“I have to go to the bathroom,” the woman said.

She hadn’t spoken since they’d left the soldiers, and Jack had been too lost in his own thoughts to say anything.

“We need to keep moving,” he said.

“We need stop,” she responded.

He hated that she argued with him, but he also knew that she had a point.

He looked around, noticed that the neighborhood had again changed. The houses were still very nice but were even more spread out. Now, instead of the manicured lots, these were larger with some lawn and lots of trees.

Maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea. They’d have to stop at some point, and Jack needed some time to think, plan.

“Up here,” he said pointing ahead.

Cassandra was relieved he seemed to be agree with her.

She was exhausted, cold, and she had to pee more than she ever had in her entire life. That made for an interesting combination, and given the come down from the adrenaline that had been spiking, she felt completely worn out.

He walked toward a house that was set off in a far a lot, trees surrounding each side and no houses in the immediate vicinity.

It looked deserted, and Cassandra deeply hoped it was. She didn’t know how much longer she could keep going, but she also didn’t know what to expect when she ran into other people. It was best if there was no one there.