The Long Dark by Billy Farmer (best book club books for discussion .txt) 📗

the lean-to. Quiet footsteps. They were the kind of steps someone took when he was hiding from something. The footsteps stopped directly in front of me. I heard fingers probing the same places mine did earlier. Someone knew about the fake wall. Maybe someone told them about it. I slowly raised the gun up to fire.

The door slid open. “Don’t move,” I said.

“Oh shit, man!”

I knew instantly who it was. Shit. “Aadesh, I almost killed you.”

“If I knew how to shoot dis damn ting, I would have most certainly tried to kill you also,” he said.

“Get in here.”

“I am wery glad to see you, Jack. Eweryone is dead. It is derrible oud dere… all our dead friends.”

“We should probably be quiet.” I paused for a moment. “But I’m glad you’re alive, Aadesh.”

“I believe dey have all left the premises. I heard wehicles being starded, and dem moving away wery quickly. I am not sure to where, dough.”

“I didn’t hear any of that… I just... What are you doing, man?”

He walked over to the wall and retrieved something. He then lit it up. “I am glad I lefd dis in here--”

“Put it out,” I yelled. “The sniffers will smell it… and we’ll--”

“Chill, bro. I’ll put it oud,” Aadesh said, taking a long hit before throwing it to the ground and stomping on it.

After several moments of awkward silence, he was ready to talk again. I wasn’t. “Dey killed eweryone but us…” his voice shook, and I thought he was going to cry.

“Aadesh, bro… I can’t talk about this right now, okay?”

He coughed and spat. “I’m sorry. But it is horrible, Jack – wery horrible. Why would dey do dad?”

“I don’t know.”

“Jim tried to hide in the drill shack…” He stopped.

I looked at him. “I know you need to talk about this, but I can’t. Not right now, anyway.”

“Okay.”

Aadesh had a terrible chemical smell to him that was making me sick and dizzy. “Dude, you’re flammable. I can’t believe you lit that joint.”

“I am wery sorry I didn’t dink before I lid id.  Our friends were murdered.”

I deflected away from our friends. I couldn’t think about it. “Did you hide in the mud pits?”

Looking down he shook his head and told me how he climbed into the mud pits in the drill shack to hide from the attackers.

He was freezing. He was soaked and needed to get dry and warm very quickly or things were going to be very bad for him. Until that point, I hadn’t even realized how much I was shaking. “I’ll go to the supply room in the Commons. That’s where the kerosene is. We’ll get warm and figure out our next move. Are you sure they’re gone?”

“I heard a woman yelling at someone on a phone or radio or someding. I did nod know whad dey were saying, but dey were raising dere voices with one anoder. It was right after dat when dey left the premises. Dey left wery quickly and were not happy to have done so.”

“There are some blankets on Sam’s cot. Wrap yourself up, and I’ll be back as quickly as I can with the kerosene.”

“Is dat a good idea?”

“We’ll find out, won’t we?

Shivering, he said, “Okay.”

***

On the way over to the Commons, I made sure to give the area where I thought Olivia and the others had been executed a wide berth, but there was no way of escaping the carnage of what had happened. There were at least ten bodies scattered not thirty yards from the lean-to. One of them was face down in the snow, with his rear end sticking up. I didn’t see Olivia, but I knew she was there.

Upon entering the Commons, I was greeted with just enough light from the two still burning kerosene heaters to see the shadowy forms making up the macabre scene inside. Bodies were everywhere, all of which were lying in one life-snuffed-out pose or another. Near the supply room, which I had locked to keep people from getting at the kerosene, there was a clump of bodies just outside. As I fumbled trying to find the correct key, I refused to think about why there were so many bodies just outside the door. I knew, of course, they were almost certainly trying to hide in the supply room, but I didn’t let myself dwell on it at the time. I would do enough of the dwelling later.

I quickly hand-pumped enough kerosene to fill the small container and was on my way back to the lean-to when I heard what I was sure was moaning to my left. In a room full of stillness, you notice movement. A man stirred just a few feet away. I turned the lamp to its lowest setting and moved cautiously to where he was lying. I didn’t recognize him, and instantly regretted not bringing the rifle with me. “Who are you?” I asked.

He began to speak but stopped, grabbed his stomach, and coughed mucous all over himself and me. After the coughing had subsided, he began to speak, but I couldn’t understand what he was saying. After another fit of coughing he spoke again. This time in English. “I couldn’t do it,” he said, repeatedly.

“Couldn’t do what?”

“I couldn’t kill for the Order.”

“Look, I don’t know what you’re talking about, bro. What the hell is the Order?”

“You have to leave. I’m going to turn… they, made me drink it.” He began coughing again.

“I don’t understand--”

“You have to go. NOW!” he yelled. “Don’t you understand,” he began to sob, “I’m going to turn.”

“Why…  Why did you have to kill my friends?”

He opened his mouth like he was going to speak. Before he could say anything he began to retch violently, the back of his head pounded the floor in sickening fleshy thuds. A geyser of vomit erupted from his mouth. He began to choke on his own rancid liquids. I tried to turn his head, but it was locked in place, his muscles so tight the skin on his