The Long Dark by B.J. Farmer (important books to read .TXT) 📗

for being the fat bastard I was, Quill gripped her ears and began to cry loudly. The metallic clang of the trailer latch could be heard, followed by the rumble of fast footfalls. It was the second wave of them.

“Show us, Duane! Now!” I yelled.

He blurted a one-word reply: “Kitchen!”

I flipped every light switch I came to hoping the darkness would slow the Grays down. As I ran down the long hallway, I heard Duane pleading for help moving the fridge. I entered just as Sam and Duane managed to topple the large double-door industrial fridge. The loud bang of the fridge coincided with the first signs of Grays entering the community building.  I shivered as howls erupted down the hall.

An old door stood hidden behind the fridge. There was a metallic clang of a latch, followed by the sound of a wooden door vibrating to a halt as it hit against one of the new laboratories. Damn the people who had designed the layout of that place. I wasn’t fitting through that exit. That much I was sure of. I flipped all the remaining light switches and whispered to Sam that he needed to get the hell out. “And shut Quill up if you have to.”

He shot me a look of disappointment and or disbelief I will always remember. I wasn’t sure if I meant to kill her or not, and maybe that was the problem. It was the instant disregard of speaking so easily about something that should be so difficult.

The sounds of slow shambling footfalls and probing sniffs could be heard from just down the hall. Sam and I alone stood by the broken door, locked into a silent debate. I handed him what mags we had managed to reload, minus two, and nudged him out the door.

Sam’s face softened as he peered back through the half-opened door. He sighed and said, “I ain’t leavin without ya, son.”

The community center went utterly still. No movement, sniffing, or shambling footsteps. Only recognition – the recognition that their prey was a mere twenty feet away, in a dark kitchen.

Clenching his left arm, I pleaded for him to leave. “I have a plan,” I whispered. “Just take care of Avery.”

The wisp of hope I gave him, coupled with how he knew I felt about Avery, was enough. With Grays within spitting distance of the kitchen, Sam turned and whispered, “Boat dock.” He quickly faded into the night, leaving me alone with a building full of monsters.

***

I half jumped half fell over the overturned fridge. More sniffing and shuffling. I began rummaging through the backpack as soon as my ass smacked the floor. I froze. Something was rolling across the floor. It sounded like a can of vegetables or maybe a soft drink. It rolled for what seemed like an eternity before coming to a halt against the center island. A Gray had accidentally kicked something across the floor. I was no longer alone in the kitchen. I redoubled my efforts.

Breathe, I thought. I sucked in a breath and quietly exhaled. I continued my search for the metallic tube. One of the Grays must’ve been injured. His foot dragged along the floor as it walked. Its raspy breaths were just feet away, his stench reaching long before he did. I finally found the tube of gel. My hands shook so violently that I nearly dropped the cap after I managed to unscrew it. I squeezed the hell out of the small amount that remained, trying to get every drop possible. It was going to have to be enough. Please be enough, I thought.

Then I thought about how the Grays at the radar base hadn’t seemed to care about the gel. Were they evolving, I wondered. I wasn’t taking any chance. I rubbed it on my coat, hands, and the last little bit on my face. I gagged. A little went a long way. I gagged some more but managed not to throw up. I shouldn’t have put the stuff on my face. I then fumbled around until I found two remaining full magazines for my rifle and quietly sat them on the floor. I hoped they were full. I couldn’t remember.

I sat there waiting. The Grays weren’t doing what I had expected them to do, which was bum rush every part of the community center until they found what they were looking for: me. They were slow and calculating. Then something occurred to me. A tingle moved from my scalp and terminated at the base of my spine. The second trailer might’ve been full of the smart ones. Or hell, maybe all of them had been.

I told myself I was okay. It was dark, and I had Kelley’s gel. I could make it through this. I gripped the rifle tightly as I pressed myself against the overturned fridge. Part of me just wanted to stay there until it was over, but I knew if I was going to live, I had to move. I knew I had to get the hell out of there. There were no other options.

I felt the floor for the two mags I had sat down beside me. I grabbed them one at a time and put them in separate coat pockets so they wouldn’t knock against each other. I then slowly and methodically slipped the strap of my backpack over my shoulder, trying my damnedest not to make a sound. I was in my version of stealth mode.

Although the Grays weren’t tearing through the building, it was quite clear it was full of them. Their hallmark stench was pervasive. The smell of urine and shit filled my nostrils. Trying to get my mind off the stench, I ran through my plan one last time. Okay, plan was strong. It was more like a hope, a dream, and fantasy rolled all together and wrapped with my lucky Powerball numbers.

I had to leave the way I came; you know, make my way back through the building full of