Into The Darkness (18 page)

In
the heat of the late afternoon sun, the men met the river’s edge at Omaha. They
stepped out of the rafts onto loamy soil, and dragged their belongings into the
concealment of a small grove of trees. Shrubbery helped to conceal the rafts
after they covered them with tarps and buried them with dirt from the riverbank.
Dylan stepped back, adjusted the fit of his rifle, and paced around the three
buried rafts.

“Does
it look good?” asked Kevin.

“It
looks good. But I don’t know about the clouds coming in. If we get a bad storm,
maybe strong winds and rain could blow the cover away.” Dylan pointed to the
horizon. Dark clouds were visible and the air was thick with humidity. The
skies looked like rain was on the way and the distant wall of clouds looked
ominous.

Kevin
put on the backpack and adjusted the straps. “If it rains, the dirt will get
heavy. I don’t think it’ll blow around. It should stay concealed.” Kevin
removed his pistol, verified that there was no cartridge in the chamber, and
engaged the safety.

Dylan
came back around the rafts, and spoke as he did. “I’m worried about dogs, too.
I can only imagine how many dogs are loose now. They’re going to form packs and
prowl around, hunting. If they get near our equipment, they may smell the food
we left in the rafts. What if they dig it out and tear apart our rafts?”

“We
don’t have any other options. If someone stays to watch this stuff, we’re split
up. That’s not a good idea, either. Let’s hurry, get in and get out,” said
Kevin, as he was adjusting the heavily loaded backpack for the search to find
his wife.

Dylan,
scanning the urban landscape with cautious eyes, asked, “Which way?”

Pointing
in a westerly direction, Kevin said, “Follow me.”

The
tall buildings of the downtown area were just beginning to silhouette in the
setting sun. One of them was still smoldering from a recent fire. Other billows
of smoke, from sporadic fires in the area, could be seen in the distance. Kevin
pointed in a direction that would take them out of the loamy soil and onto
rough open grassland near a railroad-switching yard. Walking through the
massive rail yard would put them directly on course to enter the concrete
jungle ahead of them. The two men walked away from their buried rafts and out
of the sandy dirt toward the railway complex. After spending so much time
rowing and paddling on the water, walking on the rough ground felt awkward.
Their pace was cautiously slow as they advanced, carefully scanning the path
ahead and frequently checking what was behind them.

Kevin
stopped walking and looked at Dylan briefly, then turned and looked back at the
river. He said, “I never did thank you.”

“For
what?”

“Getting
a plan together that worked. Look how far we’ve made it.” Kevin paused and
pointed toward the city. “I made it home alive, and you offered to get me out
of this place and will let me stay with you, too. If all this hadn’t happened
just like it did, I can’t help but think I would have ended up like Richard.”

Dylan
visibly cringed at the thought of what happened to Richard, and said, “Don’t
thank me for anything. We’re a team and I’d like to think we’re just working
together for survival. As for Richard, what’s done is done. I don’t want to
talk about it. I‘m more interested in getting your wife, and then getting out
of here. I’m happy we’re here, but don’t forget, the journey isn’t over. We
have quite a distance left to go and I’m not with my family yet.”

Kevin
adjusted the backpack and looked toward the city. His body language said he was
finished talking. Nothing else was said as they continued to walk toward the
railroad tracks. A large pile of debris, mostly composed of railroad ties, was
in their path, obstructing the view ahead. As they walked around the stack of
railroad ties, Dylan saw something moving in the distance. He saw motion around
the stalled railroad cars. There were miles of stranded freight cars in this
complex. It must have served as a railroad hub. Dylan extended his arm and
gestured for Kevin to get behind the stacked railroad ties.

“I
see movement ahead. There’s a lot of motion behind the railroad cars. Get the
binoculars out of the backpack,” said Dylan, in a hushed tone.

Kevin
had already slipped the backpack off and was getting the binoculars before
Dylan was finished asking for them. Dylan peeked into the open backpack as
Kevin was removing the binoculars.

“Hand
grenades. You aren’t kidding around today. How many did you bring?” Dylan
asked.

Kevin
answered silently with two fingers. He pointed to Dylan and then to himself
indicating one for each.

Dylan
smirked. “Nice of you to share,” he muttered, as he turned the binoculars
toward the stalled railroad cars. “I see people. They must be raiding the freight
cars. Some are on top of the cars. It looks like they’re throwing something
out…it’s too small to see what it is. Here, take a look around.”

Dylan
handed Kevin the binoculars. Just as Kevin began to focus, they both heard the
sound of firearms coming from the direction of the railroad cars. Kevin quickly
lowered the binoculars and looked around.

“I
heard it. It’s coming from straight ahead. That’s right in our path,” said
Dylan, angrily.

Kevin
pointed to an alternate direction to get to his apartment and wife. They needed
to keep moving to avoid traveling in the dark of night. He had just begun to
explain the detour to Dylan when dozens of people from behind the railroad cars
began to run in their direction.

Dylan
tapped Kevin on the shoulder and pointed to the obvious. Kevin had already seen
the throng headed toward them. Dylan chambered a round in his rifle and placed
the stock against his shoulder. “Get ready…stand your ground, Kevin.”

“Hold
it. They aren’t running at us. They are running away from something. They must
be running from the shots we heard,” Kevin said, as he put his hand on Dylan’s
rifle and lowered the barrel.

“You’re
right, Kevin. Look at them. They look sick and weak; they must be starving.
There are children out there, too. We got caught in the middle of something. We
need to go, now.”

As
the people fled from the railroad and got farther away, they began to scatter
in different directions. Dylan and Kevin remained hidden behind the railroad
ties. A middle-aged woman and a young boy continued in their direction. The
woman was running as fast as she could, but appeared to have an injured leg.
She was limping badly. The young boy tried to help her move as she leaned on
his shoulder while running away. In their panic, the woman and boy did not
notice the two men hiding behind the railroad ties. She could not run anymore
and wanted to hide there. When the starving pair got near to the pile, Dylan
and Kevin stood up. The woman instantly stopped, frozen in fear, as she saw the
two men with a rifle and a pistol, directly in front of them.

“Please
don’t kill us,” the woman pleaded. The young boy began to cry. “There’s so much
of it. We just need a little coal to boil water and cook what little food we
have.”

Dylan
looked at the woman’s leg. She had been shot. Both the woman and young boy were
covered in black coal dust. “Lady, we’re not going to kill you,” said Dylan, as
he pointed the rifle down.

“If
you’re hiding from someone over there, you better get on the other side of this
pile,” said Kevin.

The
young boy stopped crying and looked up at the woman, who was still frozen with
fear.

“Lady,
you and the kid better get over here.” Dylan motioned to their position behind
the pile of railroad ties. “You better sit down.” He then gestured toward the
wound on her leg.

The
sound of additional gunfire, closer this time, brought the woman out of her
trance. She hopped on her good leg toward the two men and collapsed on the
ground at their feet. “I thought you were going to kill us for taking the coal
out of the coal cars that are stuck on the tracks. There’s an armed gang that’s
hoarding everything. They shoot to kill. I’m lucky to be alive.” Her eyes
squinted. “You aren’t one of them?” Emotion overcame her, and she began to cry
uncontrollably. “They already killed my husband...his father.”

“An
armed gang shooting innocent people? That’s not good,” mumbled Kevin to
himself, as he looked back toward the railroad tracks.

Dylan
knelt down next to the woman and gently put his hand on her shoulder. “I’m
sorry about your husband.” He paused. “We need your help. Tell us about this
gang.”

“They
look just like you, men with guns. Except they wear a red cloth, like a
bandana, tied around their upper arm.”

“I
need to know where—” Dylan started, but Kevin abruptly cut him off.

“We
have company. Two headed this way. Red armbands,” said Kevin, peeking around
his cover.

“Shhhh…they
don’t know we’re here. Keep it together and stay quiet,” whispered Dylan to the
woman and her son.

The
woman nodded and her son sat next to her and wrapped his arms tightly around
her.

Kevin
peeked through a gap in the railroad ties and watched the two strangers walking
their way. One man had a rifle and the other had a shotgun. The rifle appeared
to be a .22 caliber. Kevin knew that a .22 caliber bullet could spin around in
the body and leave a nasty wound. The shotgun would be dangerous at close
range, accuracy not required. Kevin leaned over to Dylan and whispered, “They
look too casual. It looks like they are telling each other jokes. What are they
doing?”

Dylan
shrugged his shoulders and continued to stare at the advancing men, his eyes
unblinking. The armed gang members were now less than twenty yards away and
they heard their sinister voices. They were making fun of the people they had
shot. One of the men placed his weapon on the ground and began to imitate one
of his victims. He went to the ground on his knees begging for mercy, holding
imaginary wounds. The other man laughed hysterically. When the bad actor stood
up, leaving his weapon on the ground, he unzipped his pants to relieve himself
and the other man did the same, after placing his weapon on the ground, too.
Dylan saw this and turned toward Kevin. Kevin was already staring at Dylan with
wide eyes. Dylan nodded his head and held up five fingers for a silent
countdown. At Dylan’s closed fist, both men sprung from behind the pile with
their weapons drawn.

“You
move and you die!” yelled Dylan. “Step this way, we need to have a talk with
you.” Dylan motioned with his rifle for the two men to walk to the other side
of the stack of railroad ties.

Kevin
found some twine and plastic rope on the ground and tied their hands behind
their backs, then tied their feet together. He sat the men up to face them for
questioning.

Dylan
looked at the injured woman and asked, “Lady, did either of these men hurt
you?”

“You
can call me Dorothy. I don’t know, my back was turned and I was running. It
could have been any of their gang. People see the red armbands and they run.
Their pathetic gang has a reputation of murder.”

“Dorothy,
please move around to the far end of this pile. Take your son with you. I don’t
want him to see this,” said Dylan.

“Kevin,
take their armbands and hide them in the backpack. We’ll use them later.”

The
two captives were sitting on the ground with their backs to the pile of debris.
Dylan and Kevin stood directly in front of them. Dylan withdrew his large knife
and Kevin did the same. When Dylan began to speak, Kevin slowly paced back and
forth behind Dylan, tapping the blade of his knife on the palm of his hand in
rhythm with his paces. He stared directly at the two men and nodded his head in
agreement when Dylan spoke.

Dylan
knelt to the ground and leaned forward toward the captive men. “This is what’s
going to happen. I’m going to ask questions and you are going to answer. If I
suspect you are lying, we’ll kill you. If I think you are telling me the truth,
we won’t kill you. Do you understand?”

The
men were obviously terrified and simultaneously agreed to tell them anything.
They begged for their lives and explained they did not want to join the gang,
but only did so to get food and protection. A man named Cyrus led the gang. He
was getting an armed force together to move through the city and confiscate anything
of value, and he wanted to get control of the stalled coal cars. People would
need to boil water and cook food. In the winter, the people who had not starved
to death would also need it for heat. He wanted to trade the coal to get food
for his gang, so they had moved into the railroad hub today to take it over.
They had also found an Amtrak train and that was where they planned to stay.
Cyrus and a few others were planning to take up residence in the sleeper cars.

“How
do we avoid your gang? We want to get into the city,” asked Dylan, as he
prodded the closer man on the head with the blade of his knife.

“Put
on the red armbands and stay clear of the railcars. Walk around them. Go
straight west. They’re focused on looting the freight cars right now and will
be for several days. Just walk around like you’re on a patrol looking for
something. People will avoid you if they see the red armbands.”