Dark Creations: Dark Ending (Part 6) (21 page)

His clothes clung to his clammy skin and readied muscles twitched anxiously as he waited for the sound of Yoshi’s gunshots.
  A cool gust stirred at his back and rustled treetops all around him.  The breeze was brisk and refreshing against his overheated body and told of more pleasant days ahead.  He only hoped he and Melissa would live to enjoy them.

Awareness sped through his core
just as the first blast rang out.  Every nerve ending in his body prickled at once, prepared to act.  He listened closely and heard the first of many voices call out.  A flurry of activity could be heard all around the compound, as if the very walls had come to life.  Yoshi had fired from the woods.  Gabriel’s plan had been enacted.

He wanted to go, to
scale the fence and run across the grassy area to the casement window he planned to enter through, but the member positioned on the other side of the fence had not budged.  He’d looked over his shoulder briefly, yet had not made a move to leave his post. 

“Come on!” Gabriel whispered to no one.  “
Leave
dammit.”

For a moment, Gabriel thought the member had heard his commands and would follow them as he turned his entire body toward the uproar among his fellow guards.

Realizing he might not have another opportunity, Gabriel sprinted toward the fence, all the while, his eyes remained on the lone member posted on the roof before him as he silently prayed he would keep his back turned as it was.  He scaled the fence as quickly and quietly as his legs allowed. 

He
let his body to drop to the ground below.  When he felt his body hit the wet earth, he squatted there for a fraction of a moment, his eyes on the member on the roof. 

The member
was still turned, his attention focused on the intermittent popping of gunfire that echoed from deeper in the woods than it had at first, and the ruckus that followed it. 

The distance between the fence and the compound seemed like miles, though it was only a few hundred feet.  After a quick glance at the armed guard on the roof, Gabriel took off toward the wall.  He kept his head down and his thoughts centered on saving the woman he loved.  All the while, his footfalls slapping against the wet grass kept time with the frantic beat of his hea
rt.  He made it to the compound and pressed his back flush against the exterior wall.  He was out of view of the gunman on the roof, but more patrolled the perimeter, more were on foot securing the grounds.  Several more shots sliced through the predawn and Gabriel hoped they would keep the ground patrollers busy. 

He surveyed his surroundings quickly and when confident he was not under attack, he dug his hand into his pocket and retrieved his pocket knife.  He opened the blade and slid it along the side of the casement window.  Then he wedged the pointed tip deep into the narrow gap and twisted his wrist with all his might. 

The faint cracking sound Gabriel heard made his racing heart leap to his throat.  Wary of being overly optimistic, he attempted to force the pane to the side.  It needed little encouragement before it glided open.  Once the window was opened fully, Gabriel climbed through it headfirst and promptly landed on the hard floor beneath it, courtesy of a seven-foot drop.  Every inch of his body ached when he strained his eyes against the pitch black he lay in.  From the faint smell of must in the air, he guessed he was in the basement.

He sat up slowly and carefully, his arm smarting
from the fall and his back complaining, still unable to see his hand in front of his face.  But his injuries were irrelevant.  He was inside, and close to Melissa.  He inexplicably sensed her nearby.  He swore he felt the faint thrum of her life force pulsing through his veins.  He rose to his feet and was about to take a tentative step forward, a step closer to her, when he felt cold steel press the nape of his neck. 

“Turn around slowly,” a voice ordered and light suddenly flooded the room.

Gabriel squinted, his eyes struggling to adjust to the brightness of the basement.  He found himself face to face with a man of similar height and build to him, a member.

“Gabriel James,” the man said without the slightest hint of emotion.  “I was told you might try to break in.  My maker never thought you would get this far
without being seen, though, especially since his house in invulnerable.”

“I’m here, aren’t I,
inside the house.  Must not be all that invulnerable,” Gabriel said and matched the member’s tone. 

“Yes, her
e you are,” the member said slowly.

Even though the member’s words were not threatening and his demeanor was robotic, Gabriel felt his blood chill as though he were being toyed with. 
The barrel of the sizable gun pressed to his forehead did not help matters either.  He knew he needed to act, and soon, before he was hauled off to a cell or torture chamber or God only knew what else.  The possible horrors awaiting him were limitless. 

Without another thought, he spun a roundhouse kick.  His foot met with the gun and sent it sailing across the
room.  It landed against the concrete floor and made a loud clacking sound, but it had not fired thankfully.  He then launched his fist forward and punched the member squarely in the nose.  Bone yielded beneath his fist and blood splattered.  The man cried out in pain and he bowed, his hands clutching his face.  Gabriel kicked him in his midsection and he collapsed to his knees, winded.  He tackled him so that his back was flattened to the concrete floor and gripped his throat tightly, squeezing as hard as he could.  The man thrashed and flailed, but Gabriel did not let go, could not let go, not with Melissa being held prisoner somewhere in the confines of the compound.

He breathed in short, shallow pants and every muscle in his battered arms trembled when life finally escaped the member beneath him.  He climbed off him, his chest heaving
hurriedly, and walked on legs that did not feel steady enough to carry him to the gun in the far corner of the room.  He picked it up and clutched it between his hands, felt its heft.  A staircase to his right undoubtedly led to the main level of the house.  He ascended it and stopped before a door.  He pressed his ear to it and listened carefully to movement on the other side of it.  He took several deep breaths to calm his sprinting pulse then reached for the doorknob.  He did not know what waited behind the door and would find out soon enough.  All he did know was that he would do whatever it took to save Melissa, even if it meant surrendering his own life. 

Chapter 17

The energy in the car crackled with tension and the kind of troubled c
harge felt in the midst of traumatic events or accident scenes.  Only no accident had taken place.  Everything transpiring was deliberate. 

Jack
’s temples pounded as he twisted the steering wheel and guided Ed’s Bronco into yet another neighborhood and pulled to the curb of the first house.  He could not recall how many neighborhoods they’d visited so far.  All of them had been a blur of similar houses with similar doors answered by people who bore similar looks of utter horror when they’d been told of what was happening.  Their horrified faces would not be soon forgotten.  He’d seen enough fear to last him a lifetime.  But Jack had to force it to the back of his mind.  After all, he’d rather see temporary terror etched in living features than an eternal mask of fear on the faces of fallen residents of Eldon. 

He watched as a car approached then stopped
behind him, Joe’s car.  Mayor Sheldon burst from the back seat clumsily and waddled to one door while Sheriff Baker raced across the street and began banging on the door of the first house.  Cries of shock and alarm echoed through the quiet community, their panic raw and palpable. 

Jack wished there had been a better way to deliver the news, but d
oor-to-door notification had been their only option since all phone lines were down, undoubtedly a strategic part of Terzini’s plan to cripple a town before seizing it.  The number of people with them should have been sufficient for them to split up and move more coordinately from one neighborhood to the next, but the mayor had been certain that the residents of his small town would not even open their door to strangers, let alone believe something as outlandish sounding as the news they brought.  So Jack had been forced to be little more than a bystander while firemen, EMTs, and police officers canvased the area, spreading word of the town-wide evacuation.  The people dispatched, all local government workers, were well-known and trusted. Their neighbors and friends would heed their warnings.  The fact that it was such a tight-knit community was proving to be an advantage.  Everyone undertook the responsibility of spreading the word to others.  After they’d been warned, they’d been asked to tell as many neighbors as they could think of, thus causing the news to snowball quickly.  Residents of Eldon were faced with two options: fight or flee. 

Jack watched
from a distance as the limited choices were presented to a household a few hundred feet from where he was parked and felt his heart dive when he saw their features contort.  Fortunately, movement near the driver’s side window tore his attention from the gut-wrenching scene and caused his head to snap in that direction.  Mayor Sheldon’s puffy red face was framed there.

“Jack!” he wheezed.  “
This is awful.  I can’t believe I am going door to door asking anyone with a gun – which is just about everybody – to come to the center of town and fight.”

“Hmm,
it is unreal,” Jack nodded.  But a part of him wondered why the hell the mayor was wasting precious time chatting him up.  He decided to not beat around the bush and speed their conversation along.  “Mayor Sheldon, with all due respect, we need to hurry.  The sun will rise in less than an hour and the thousands of bastards we saw marching over the hill could be anywhere by now.”

The mayor held his gaze for a moment then cleared his throat.  “Yes, you’re right. I’d better get back to work,” he said solemnly before tottering off.

“How many people do you think we’ll help this way?” Anna’s velvety voice asked from the back seat. 

When she spoke, Jack felt his scalp tighten and his skin tingle as if hot breath had blown against it.  “Honestly, I don’t know.  Let’s just hope we can save as many people as possible.” He wished he had something better to say, words that we
re more comforting or inspiring.  But the truth of the matter was he just did not know.  He did not know who would truly believe what they were hearing without seeing it with their own eyes.  The mayor hadn’t.  The sheriff hadn’t.  No one had.  Only Gabriel, Melissa and their friends had journeyed across several states to hear him out.  But they’d been exceptions to the rule.  They had lived through nightmares most could not comprehend.  And they were his friends.  What the mayor and sheriff were asking of their citizens was for them to place every ounce of faith and trust in them, then either fight, or run.

“I need some air,” Joan said and pulled Jack’s focus back to her and her daughter. 

“Are you okay, mom?” Anna asked her mother. 

“I’m fine.  Just need some air is all,” Joan fanned her hand and smiled.  “The mugginess has finally lifted and I want to breathe in some of that cool air.  It might be the last time I get to do it.”

“No mom!” Anna said with conviction.  “There will be many more days like this one, cool, crisp spring mornings to enjoy.  I promise.”

“You cannot promise me that, dear,” Joan said and patted her daughter’s cheek affectionately.  “And neither can he,” she gestured to Jack.  “But I’m old and I’ve lived a lot of life.  You, you two have just begun.  You need time to love and
live
.”

Jack lowered his eyes.  He wanted to interrupt and tell her he’d lived enough and loved enough for two lifetimes, and all both had brought him was heartache.  Both were overrated.  He fought for his friends, for the people of Eldon, for Anna, not himself.  When he looked up, he was greeted by a pair of ice-blue eyes framed by dark curls.  Anna looked away immediately and Jack felt heat creep up from his collar and burn his cheeks. 

“We will all have time to live and love,” Anna assured her mother.  “All of us.  We will survive this.”

Joan did not say another word.  She
opened the rear door and slid from the back seat.  He watched as she began walking down the tree-lined sidewalk. 

“My mother,” Anna said.  “She’s a bit dramatic.  Sorry.”

“After what she’s been through today, I think she is entitled to be a lot more dramatic than that,” Jack said softly. 

“Oh come on,” Ann surprised him by saying.  “All that ‘I’m old’ stuff.  Give me a break.  She’s only in her sixties!  And that crap about needing to live and love!  There will be plenty of time for it.  If you ask me, all of it is overrated anyway.”

Jack felt his mouth hanging open but for the life of him could not get his brain and lips to work together.  He knew he must look like an idiot, staring at her with his mouth agape, but she had just echoed his thoughts exactly.  No one ever said things like that.  Not that he knew at least.  Even he never said things like that for fear people would think him a cynical grouch.  But Anna, a young, beautiful woman, had said it as if they were the oldest and dearest of friends, as if she’d known him her whole life and was comfortable being her true self in front of him. 

“Okay, well since you’re looking at me
like I’m crazy, I take it you are a happily in love zest-for-life kind of guy.  Don’t I feel stupid?” she shook her head.  “I guess I shouldn’t care.  I mean, we could be dead tomorrow, right.”  She paused then added.  “Most people use that as a figure of speech, but in our case, it’s true.”