Into The Darkness (26 page)

“I
need all the luck I can get,” said Dylan, now freely petting the dog.

Ben
fanned himself with his hat a few times and turned to walk toward the
cornfield. He gave a quick wave and a smile. “I’ll be back at first light tomorrow.”
He disappeared into the rows of corn. Dylan heard a quick whistle and Lucky ran
into the cornfield, following her master.

Although
the man and his dog had already disappeared, Dylan waved towards the corn, and
then returned to Kevin and Mary. Dylan stepped over to his raft and sat down.
“He’ll be back at daybreak. We’ll head for town early.”

Mary
forced a smile at Dylan as she put a wet cloth on her husband’s forehead. She
knew that Kevin was deathly ill, but was trying to display strength during his adversity.

The
warm breath and cold nose of Lucky, Ben’s German shepherd, woke Dylan at the
break of dawn. Before Dylan could get his hands up to ward off her affectionate
advances, she had already licked the side of his face, which cooled from the
evaporating saliva. He immediately extended his arm to force her back from the
raft. His greatest concern was that her sharp claws would puncture it. She
promptly licked his hand and arm instead.

Ben
was crouched at the campfire prodding the glowing embers. He quietly laughed to
himself as he watched his dog interact playfully with Dylan. “I think she likes
you now,” said Ben, placing a small log on the remains on the campfire.

Dylan
eased the grip on his rifle and placed it down in the raft. He extended a
finger toward the dog and commanded, “Sit!” The dog partially lowered her
hindquarters and whimpered slightly, wanting to play.

“Sit!”
commanded Ben. The dog immediately complied. The dog sat with her mouth partially
open and her tongue hanging out the side of her mouth, panting.

Ben
continued to poke at the red embers with a stick, persuading the log to come
ablaze.

“Ready?”
asked Ben.

Dylan
stood and stretched. “Ready as I’ll ever be.” He noticed that Mary was awake,
her eyes wide as she listened to their conversation. Mary’s hand was on her
sleeping husband’s forehead.

Ben
started to walk away, and with a quick whistle, called his dog. Dylan wondered
if Ben had called him with that whistle, too. With little regard to the issue,
Dylan grabbed his rifle and filled his pockets with cartridges. Ben stood at
the edge of the corn with the dog, waiting for Dylan.

Mary
impulsively sprinted toward Dylan, and as he slung the rifle over his shoulder,
she grabbed him by his arm and stared hauntingly into his face. Her dilated
eyes were bloodshot and full of fear. “He has a fever. I’m afraid…no…I’m
terrified, Dylan.” She quickly glanced back at her husband. “He’s burning up.”
Her voice began to tremble. “You have to get some medicine. You have to come back
with some medicine, or I’m afraid he’s not going to make it.” She dug her
fingers deeper into his arms. “You have to promise me. Promise me you’ll come
back!”

Dylan
grabbed her shoulders and spoke confidently. “Relax. I promise I’ll come back.
Just stay with Kevin. Just relax, okay?”

Mary’s
tight grip on Dylan’s arms began to loosen and she slowly let go. Turning away
from Dylan, she cast her eyes toward the ground and folded her arms onto her
chest. She grabbed the crucifix dangling from her necklace, and went to her
husband’s side. She genuflected toward her husband, made the sign of the cross,
and began a silent prayer.

Ben
whistled again. This time it was obvious that the whistle was for Dylan.

“I’ll
hurry,” said Dylan, as he began to walk away.

Mary
nodded and tried to force a smile as she waved the men on.

Dylan
walked with Ben through the cornfield, heading toward Ben’s house. Lucky darted
in and out of the rows of corn, sniffing the ground as she made circles around
them. The corn was wet from the morning dew, and by the end of the rows of corn,
Dylan’s clothes were also wet, bringing a chill to his body. Emerging from the
cornfield, he welcomed the morning sun and the warmth it would bring to him as
his clothes dried in the breeze.

Ben
pointed toward a small corral by his house. There were two black horses saddled
and ready to go, trotting freely in the corral. Near the corral was a well with
a hand pump, a metal cup hanging from the handle. Ben pumped the handle several
times and water splashed out of the pump. He drank several cups of water and
offered the cup to Dylan, who did the same. Ben then let Lucky drink from the
same metal cup and Dylan’s stomach turned. Ben saw the expression on Dylan’s
face and said, “She’s family.”

“I
understand.”

“Have
you ridden a horse before?”

“No,”
said Dylan, as he began to walk toward the horses for closer inspection. As
Dylan got closer, he noticed that Ben had left a pistol belt hanging from the
corral’s gate.

Ben
grabbed the pistol belt and placed it around his waist. “This is going to be a baptism
by fire for you, then.” Ben laughed. “Don’t worry, your horse is broke.” Ben
opened the gate. “Follow me. Just do what I do, and you’ll be fine.”

Dylan
stood next to his horse and felt the coarse hair of its mane. He rubbed the
horse’s jaw and neck. The horse was ambivalent, chewing on hay. He touched the
saddle leather. It was stained and smooth from years of use. Ben’s horse had
saddlebags that appeared full.

“Ready?”
asked Ben.

“You
first, I’ll watch.”

“Put
your foot in the stirrup, grab the saddle horn, then step up and swing your
other leg around.” Ben demonstrated as he instructed Dylan and was immediately
in the saddle. He pulled on the reins and positioned himself to observe Dylan’s
mount.

“You
made that look easy,” said Dylan, as he shifted his rifle to his back, with the
strap tight across his chest. Dylan placed his left foot in the stirrup and
grabbed the saddle horn. He hesitated before he started to lift himself up into
the saddle. With one of Dylan’s feet in the stirrup, the horse began to walk
forward. Dylan fell to the ground, landing on his side. Only his pride was
hurt.

Ben
laughed. “Faster next time, cowboy. That horse isn’t going to wait for you.”

Dylan
stood and brushed the dirt off his clothes. He took a deep breath and shook his
head clear. With squinted eyes, he quickly looked around the corral. “Don’t you
have a mounting block I could use?”

“Mounting
block? There’s no valet parking where we’re going. Let’s get moving, city boy.”

Irritated,
Dylan looked at the horse and its saddle with heightened determination. In one
motion, he put his left foot back in the stirrup, grabbed the saddle horn, and
swung his right leg over the horse. He was now on the black beast and holding
its reins. Ben led them out of the corral and toward the dirt road, with Lucky
at his side. He explained that they would follow the dirt road for several
miles south until they reached blacktop. The blacktop road would take them east
to a bridge over the river, and that road would take them into town.

As
the road into town became wider, the ruins of the town became visible to the
riders. Dylan spurred his horse forward to be at Ben’s side. Although they saw
no people, the evidence of what pillagers had done was everywhere. Stranded
cars on the road had been looted, and all the businesses that they passed had
succumbed to the same fate. They were in a commercial area. There were no
houses. Every building, if it was not burned, had shattered windows, and all
the doors were broken open.

“Where
is everybody?” asked Dylan. He changed the position of his rifle to his front
as the horse slowly trotted along beside Ben and his mount.

“Just
businesses around here. They looted and left. I didn’t think it would look this
bad.” Ben pulled his hat a little lower, held the reins with one hand, and kept
his right hand close to his pistol. “Just ahead less than a mile is where we’re
headed.” Ben pointed forward and then looked around to survey the damage to the
area.

At
the next main intersection, Lucky ran forward and began to bark at an abandoned
car. The dog circled wide around the car and began to bark at the back of the
vehicle. Cautiously, Dylan and Ben guided their horses to the other side of the
car and saw a decomposing body. Bullet holes riddled that side of the car, which
explained the man’s death. The dog started to approach the corpse.

“Get
back, girl!” commanded Ben to the dog. He dismounted and walked toward Lucky,
ushering her away from the dead body. His fear was that she might try to eat
the corpse’s decomposing flesh. Pulling his horse behind him, he went to the
dog and used his foot to turn her and get her to move away. Dylan stayed
mounted on his horse and Ben stood by the dog.

“I
can see the strip mall and the shop we need to get to.” Ben pointed in the
store’s direction. “Right there on the corner.”

“What
are we waiting for?”

Ben
lifted the flap on his saddlebag, revealing several sticks of dynamite. He
explained to Dylan that he wanted to try to blow his way into a bank vault and
pointed to the bank at the next intersection.

Dylan
shook his head. “I don’t want any part of it.”

“You
don’t have to.” Ben removed the dynamite and detonation equipment from his
horse. “Just take my horse and dog with you. I know where you’ll be. I’ll meet
you there.”

Dylan
leaned forward and grabbed the reins of Ben’s horse.

“This
will take me about as long as it will take you to get into the store and look
around. Tie the horses tight to something, and get my dog inside. You’ll hear
the blast.” Ben laughed.

Dylan
grumbled his disapproval again and led Ben’s horse away. The dog reluctantly
followed Dylan to the strip mall. As he made his way toward the pet store, he
passed by several abandoned cars in the parking lot. All of them had broken
windows. At the end of the strip mall was the large pet store. All the windows
were broken; it had obviously been pillaged and looted. In front of the store
was a bicycle rack where he could tie the horses. After dismounting and tying
the horses, Dylan nervously looked back toward the bank at the far end of the
parking lot. It was not a big bank and Dylan could not understand the appeal of
what Ben planned to do. What could he get? Money? Money had no value. Jewelry
in a safety deposit box? Maybe jewelry would have some type of intrinsic value,
but you cannot eat it. Jewelry would be worthless to a starving person.

After
double-checking the knots that held the horses to the bicycle rack, Dylan
called Lucky into the store. Although the windows were shattered, allowing a
breeze through the store, there was still a terrible stench of death that
remained. The small rodents and fish were dead and rotten. The dog and cat food
sections were scavenged clean. Dylan wondered if the looters had taken the food
for their pets, or if they had become desperate enough to eat it themselves.
Since most of the other cat and dog merchandise was gone, he surmised that they
were still keeping their pets alive.

The
store was divided into departments. The dog section was the farthest from the
front, then the cat section, pet toys, and near the front of the store was a
large picture of a fish. That would be the section he wanted. Unfortunately,
large metal shelves separated these sections, and the shelves had been toppled
over and collapsed like dominoes in the direction of the store’s front,
covering the fish section. Dylan would have to lift these shelves back to an
upright position, starting in the back, to get to what was buried at the front
of the store. The empty shelving was not very heavy, but it was awkward to
move.

Lucky
left Dylan by himself as she patrolled the store. She methodically sniffed at
almost everything, as Dylan worked his way toward the store’s front, lifting
each of the metal shelves. As he lifted the last shelves, he glanced behind
himself and noticed that Lucky had found a rope toy. She leaned forward with
the toy and moved her head from side to side as a signal to play.

Suddenly
an explosion rocked the store, and reflexively, Dylan dove to the floor. Ben
must have set off the dynamite. The explosion was loud, much louder than he
would have expected at this distance. Lucky dropped the toy and whimpered in
the explosion’s aftermath. Dylan quickly looked back to see that the shelving
was still standing. He grabbed the rope toy and tossed it for the dog, then
went to the broken store windows to get a view of the bank. From that distance,
he could see that all the glass from its windows were gone, and smoke billowed
out of the openings. Emerging from the bank was a man holding a hat with one
hand and the side of his head with the other. It was Ben, stumbling as he made
his way toward Dylan and the pet store.

Dylan
stood by the two horses and stroked their faces. The explosion had startled the
horses, and he tried to calm the animals as he watched Ben approach.

Ben
made it to the storefront and, holding his hat in his right hand, bent at the
waist and put his hands on his knees to lean forward. He was shaking his head
back and forth.

“It
didn’t work. I got nothing, not a damn thing,” said Ben, in an unusually loud
tone.

“What
did you expect to get?”

Ben
was looking at the ground in front of him. He did not see Dylan ask the
question and could not hear him due to the ringing in his ears.

“Hey!”
exclaimed Dylan. “Can you hear me?”

Ben
looked up with a contorted face. “Sorry, my ears are ringing, I was too close.
I can’t hear anything.” Ben cupped his ears with his hands and shook his head.

Dylan
did not speak, but motioned for Ben to get inside the store. With Ben inside,
Dylan stayed out front momentarily to observe his surroundings. Ben had made a
lot of noise. That might bring unwanted attention in their direction.

Inside,
Dylan found Ben sitting on the floor with his dog next to him. Lucky had
brought him the rope toy and they were playing tug of war. Dylan pointed to the
fish supply area. The toppled shelving had covered it so most of the area had
been protected from the looters.