The Long Fall of Night: The Long Fall of Night Book 1 (27 page)

“I don’t want to be sitting out here eating and have someone surprise us.”

Brian nodded grimly, ready to follow. Ash pushed into the interior, wincing at the bell clanging against the door. Dammit. Rookie move. He kept still, waiting for someone to come investigate, and when no one did, he carefully took a few steps farther.

Keeping to the sides of the big room, Ash assessed the damage. A couple tables near the food counter were on their sides, but for the most part, the place appeared ready for business, the silver napkin holders and salt and pepper shakers gleaming dully in the light from the windows. Ash rounded the lunch counter to enter the kitchen but stopped short when the thing he’d seen lying on the floor came into focus.

A body.

It was a woman, possibly in her late forties, in a t-shirt and jeans, lying on her back and staring sightlessly. Her hand lay outstretched above her head and a few inches away, a butcher knife pointed toward the front of the restaurant. Her t-shirt had the restaurant’s logo above her left breast, but it was splattered with the blood that soaked her torso, a ragged hole near her stomach revealing a gunshot wound. Ash winced. The pool of blood beneath her was large, but not widening. He knelt, not bothering to check her pulse. Touching the edge of the blood puddle, he tested it; it was tacky.

“Not an expert,” he murmured. “But this is a lot of blood and it’s pretty congealed. My guess is she’s been here a few hours.”

“We call the cops?” Brian asked.

Ash scoffed. “What good would it do? It’s not like they can investigate. The judge on call for warrants won’t be answering his phone. The courts aren’t going to appoint a lawyer for the defendant, assuming one is even found.”

“Good point,” Brian conceded. “Just feels wrong to leave her lying here while we sit outside and eat.”

Ash frowned. “We can move down the road,” he offered, but frankly, he wanted to keep moving, keep walking, and the longer they took to find a comfortable spot, the less distance they could cover before sun set. He said as much, and Brian agreed.

Stepping over the body, Ash peered through the circular window in the silver kitchen door but saw no sign of life. With a nod to Brian, he stepped into a kitchen with a row of cooking appliances. For what appeared to be a mom-and-pop diner, it was well equipped and clearly cared for. The surfaces gleamed, and everything was in its place.

Keeping his gun half-raised, Ash moved past the grill to the next open space, where a stainless steel countertop stood across from a bank of doors. Dry storage was next to the industrial sized side-by-side fridge and freezer. Those doors stood open, as did the one beside the freezer leading to a courtyard bearing dumpsters and enough room for delivery trucks.

Approaching cautiously, Ash peeked in the open doors, grimacing at the body of a man on the freezer floor, a knife protruding from his back. With a quick movement to the exterior door, he surveyed the surroundings and quickly retreated from the kitchen.

“One more body, but no one else.”

They exited the restaurant and regrouped, Ash explaining in as generic terms as he could why they needed to keep moving.

“If they’re already dead, and the place has been picked over, then no one should have any reason to come back. This is probably safer than if we were to find somewhere not looted yet,” Elliot reasoned.

Charlotte crossed her arms, rubbing her palms up and down her biceps. “Make up your minds. We’re sitting ducks.”

“Come eat, guys,” Riley said behind them. Surprised, they saw he’d laid out on one of the patio tables a couple bags of beef jerky, a pouch of beans from their freeze-dried food stash, and some nuts and trail mix. “The beans aren’t hot,” he said almost apologetically.

“Look at you, kid.” Charlotte beamed, ruffling his hair.

“I guess we eat here,” Elliot said, clearly amused.

Riley stuffed a piece of beef jerky in his mouth, then swallowed. “I got hungry. If we eat fast, even if someone comes back, we can be long gone.”

Ash wasn’t thrilled about sticking around, but Elliot had a point. If the place was already tossed, there was nothing left to come back for.

Brian rubbed his face, then dug out spoons from his backpack while they all tucked in. Elliot opened a bottle of water and set it between him and Ash, indicating they should share.

After a few minutes of silence, Charlotte spoke up. “Looks like things are getting worse. No gas. People attacking other people. We have to get off the road,” she said, looking pointedly at her brother.

“It’s not like there are hiking trails through the trees, guys,” he retorted, digging into the beans. “We go off-road, we get slowed down.”

“I’d rather be slow than get shot at because we’re the only visible thing around,” Charlotte grumbled.

“Vote,” Brian said. “All in favor of taking better cover, raise your hand.” Charlotte, Riley, and Brian all raised their hands. After a moment, Elliot raised his, too.

“Then nobody bitches if they get poison ivy or have blisters on their feet from hiking through dense brush,” Ash grumbled. They were right, and he knew it. He’d just hoped conditions hadn’t deteriorated enough that they couldn’t get a couple days of easier walking before they had to avoid open space. “Once we get outside of town, it won’t be as bad.”

“Where’s the military?” Elliot asked, looking around as if he expected an armored truck to trundle past.

“Maybe that’s where everyone is,” Riley chimed in hopefully. “Maybe they’ve already been here and got the people out.”

“That’s possible,” Brian agreed. “Let’s hope you’re right, kid.”

“Wherever they went, we gotta keep an eye open if they’re already resorting to killing each other,” Charlotte said, sharing her water with her son.

They finished as quickly as they could, then shouldered their packs. This time, Ash took point as he led them over the exposed highway and into the stand of trees across from the restaurant. To his relief, they weren’t as dense as they appeared, once they got past the initial line. He was also grateful for the shade. Despite having put sunblock on that morning, the skin of his nose felt tight and tender. He should have gotten them all hats.

After a few minutes, Elliot came up beside him. “This isn’t so bad, right?”

“Not as hard as I thought,” Ash agreed.

“Where do you want to stop for the night?”

Ash consulted the GPS. “Somewhere away from a town.” He advanced the screen to the next waypoint. “Couple of rivers to follow. Might be best to stay near water when we can.”

“Okay,” Elliot said agreeably. He surprised Ash by taking his hand and squeezing briefly before dropping it.

“We should probably stop,” Ash said, deciding it was now or never to end their arrangement.

“Stop walking?” Elliot was confused.

“No, this. Us.” He wagged a finger between them. “We’ve got enough going on, don’t you think? We don’t really need the complications.”

“Complications,” Elliot echoed.

“We’re not a couple, Elliot,” Ash said wearily. “I don’t know about you, but I’m not exactly in the mood to get frisky, and now we’re going to be too tired to do more than set up camp, eat, and sleep. I have enough on my mind without worrying about hurting your feelings if I say you should sleep in your own tent. Better for both of us if we’re just friends.”
Better for me if we don’t get closer and then I lose you.

Elliot was silent for a few seconds. “Whatever you want.” His tone was cold, and he dropped back before Ash could soften the blow.

Which only illustrated that he was right to break it off. It didn’t keep a shard of regret from piercing his heart, but Ash tried to shrug it off. Day one of walking was only half over, and already he was too tired to deal.

They made camp that evening without any more incidents, and the exhausted group barely voiced their opinion at the spot Ash chose to stop, south of the tiny town of Caledonia, Ohio, population five hundred. The appeal was the secluded nature of the area and the proximity to water, where tributaries of the Olentangy River converged into a wider run. They chanced building a fire using rocks from the river to contain it. Brian offered to fish for their supper, but frankly the effort of cooking was too much, so they made do with boiling water and sharing freeze dried meal pouches. For their last three bottles of water, Ash dug out the flavor powder, giving them all lemonade to go with their bland dinner. Riley nearly fell asleep sitting up, and Charlotte bundled him off to bed after bidding them all goodnight.

“Officially getting water from the land now,” he murmured to Elliot and Brian, frowning into the dark when a stick snapped in the distance. Could have been a deer or another animal, but Ash assumed nothing, pulling his rifle within easy reach. “We should talk about having someone keep watch, too.”

“You think that’s necessary?” Brian asked, looking troubled.

“I don’t want to get surprised by some kind of wild animal or a landowner if we end up trespassing by accident. It can’t hurt, and if we take it in shifts, no one gets sleep deprived.”

“I’ll stay up first,” Elliot offered, giving a sniff that held an air of anger. “I can’t sleep without my music anyway, and I don’t want to waste the battery.”

“I’ll take second watch and turn off your iPod when you fall asleep, El,” Brian said. “Tired as we all are, it’ll probably only be a few minutes.”

“Thanks,” he said shortly.

Ash watched them, trying to keep his doubts about shutting Elliot down from showing. While he honestly believed they didn’t need to convolute their already fucked up situation, he could have been less of a jerk about it. Elliot was a good guy, steady and solid, and had proven himself more than valuable in that he could calm Ash like no one had since his parents. Yeah, Ash and Charlotte had always relied on each other, but their personalities were volatile, both of them strong-willed and stubborn when they thought they were right. He’d go to bat any day for his sister, but she wasn’t always easy to deal with.

Elliot, however, had held him when he’d freaked, kept him from panicking when they’d discovered they’d have to abandon the van, distracted him when he thought too much about the depth of the disaster, and had done so with a smile most of the time. The guy who needed to reduce his own stress so he wouldn’t have a seizure was the one giving Ash a way of reining it in when he got overwhelmed. Complicated or not, Ash was saddened and second-guessing himself.

Judging by the look on Elliot’s face, however, he’d royally screwed up.

T
he darkness
of death is like the evening twilight; it makes all objects appear more lovely to the dying.

—Jean Paul

T
HE MESS TENT AT Denver International Airport
bustled as the daytime sweep teams were relieved by the night shift. More boisterous than usual, since Lieutenant O’Neil declared the sweeps finished, the teams were rowdy, and there was a lot of laughter. It seemed there were new orders, and while no one would dare say it aloud, they were all glad to be done with sweeps. Civilians without power had been moved to various shelters, and those responsible for maintaining civility within the shelters had been doing so from day one. New orders meant they’d either be sent to cities where sweeps were ongoing or put on border patrol.

Chris hoped like hell they’d get to play in the mountains.

“I heard Atlanta is falling the fuck apart,” Donnie said through a wad of bread he ripped off in hunks and shoved in his cheeks like a squirrel storing sunflower seeds. “Gang war or some shit. Two rival gangs are blowing each other up with pipe bombs and loading them with nails for shrapnel. Couple of our guys got hit pretty bad. City is empty of civilians, so these teenage thugs are using it as their whole playground.”

“What do they call that?” Chris asked, pointing his fork at Donnie. “KIA is killed in action by hostile forces. Are we calling American citizens hostile forces now?”

“We call them Americans,” Roger answered, forking mashed potatoes into his mouth. “But if they try blowing us up, you bet they’re hostiles. Still, none of us are gonna die, West, so you don’t really need to know how the DOJ would mark your death notice.”

“You die on me,” Donnie said, “And I’ll dig you up and kick your ass.” He stared intensely at Chris, whose heart took an extra thump.

“Don’t worry, D,” he said with an impish grin. “When I go down, you’ll be right beside me in the hail of bullets. We die on the same day.”

Donnie grinned and offered his knuckles, which Chris bumped, and they both spread their fingers and made explosion noises.

“You’re both idiots,” Ness mumbled.

“Sarge,” Chris said, “I fully expect you to go on a rampage after we’re dead. Avenge your fallen and all that jazz.”

She leveled him with her ghostly green eyes and gave a nod. “Any one of you fuckers on my team bites it early, I’ll be after those responsible with Hell on my heels. And when I die, I’m haunting all of you. Every. Last. One.” She punctuated those last three words with points at Chris and Donnie, Matt, and finally Roger, who winked at her.

“I heard some of our teams in the cities are finding a large number of suicides,” Matt said in his usual quiet, serious tone. “People aren’t taking well to the idea they’re isolated from the rest of the country or world.”

“No access to the news, and no way of knowing why they’re suddenly fighting for survival, I can’t say I’m surprised.” Roger finished his meatloaf and pushed his plate away. “People have become so interconnected, sudden isolation is jarring, not to mention wondering if there’s more to come.”

“You think there is?” Matt asked, concerned.

“I don’t know,” Roger answered, drinking his tea. “But if there is, I’m ready for wherever they throw us.”

“I hope they send us into the mountains,” Donnie chimed in. “Think about it, fellas. April in Colorado is kinda chilly, but it sure as fuck beats the sandbox. Border patrol is boring, but it’s beautiful country.”

“There is that,” Chris agreed. “But I heard they’re leaving the border patrols to spec ops. Something about them using the terrain more to their advantage.”

“Pretty sure we’d be all right if they move us to the big rocks, boys,” Ness said. “We’ll just need to wait and see what L.T. has for us, and we won’t complain even if we have to go to Atlanta and babysit gangs.”

Chris drained his water. “I heard they’re also reserving spec ops for guarding the president.”

“That’s what Secret Service is for,” Ness said, crossing her forearms on the table. “Besides, you can’t believe everything you hear.”

Chris studied his sergeant. She was stoic as ever, but something in her eyes caught his attention. “You know something,” he accused.

“Who,
moi
?” she asked, the picture of innocence. It didn’t go well with the tattoo of the Four Horseman’s Death on the visible forearm. War was on the other arm, he knew, but he was too afraid to ask if she had Pestilence and Famine anywhere else.

“Yes, you,” Donnie joined in. “Spill it, Sarge.”

She leaned forward after a glance around. “Undisclosed location, you know? Standard protocol for the president and his cabinet members. But I heard that location is near here. I don’t know what our next orders are, but there’s a reason they’re saying spec ops is in the mountains. Secret Service ain’t equipped for this level of protection. Who else they gonna put on the man if not the elite squads? We might get border orders after all, gentlemen.”

Chris knew better than to let out his whoop of excitement, but he had no chance of suppressing the grin. He looked at Donnie and found his interest mirrored.

“Wherever they say we’re most needed,” Matt said, but even he had a gleam in his dark eyes.

“You know something, Sarge?” Roger asked quietly.

“I know what you know, Rog,” she said noncommittally, leaning back, her lips quirked in satisfaction. “Get a good night’s sleep, boys.” She stood and picked up her tray. “We get new assignments tomorrow.” She pointed at Donnie. “No throwing up in the helo this time.”

“That was one time!” Donnie protested to her retreating back as the others laughed. “I even got it outside the door as the pilot banked,” he bitched, glaring at Chris, who tried to stop his laughter and failed.

“I hope it showered an insurgent,” Chris said, finally regaining his composure and staring at his friend solemnly.

“I’ll puke on you next time, so you’ll need a shower,” Donnie grumped.

Roger rolled his eyes. “Then we’ll all have to smell him.” He, too, stood to follow the sergeant. “Get yourselves squared away. If we’re on a chopper for next assignments, we’re not going to be coming back to base every night.”

“Yes, sir,” the three of them answered, clearing their dinner mess and dispersing.

Chris walked out of the mess tent with his head down, trying to parse through bits of the conversation to see if he could figure out where they were going next. Footsteps at his back alerted him to Donnie’s presence. He’d know those clomping feet anywhere.

“Think we’ll get to go play in the trees?” Donnie asked hopefully.

“Dunno. We’re not going home yet.” Chris shrugged. He’d let distance creep between them since he’d had his little fantasy about Donnie servicing him in other, less official ways.

“Kind of fun, being deployed on home ground, though,” Donnie said quietly. “Gang stories aside, it’s nice knowing we’re not going to get our asses blown up by old mines or some shit.”

“Yeah,” Chris agreed absently. There was no more point speculating about their future, so he fell silent, trying not to think about the one thing that had bugged him for going on two weeks. He’d found himself observing all the people in their platoon, trying to decipher which team they batted for. In the doldrums of repetitious orders, he’d had a lot of time to think. If asked, he’d have said he was straight and just hadn’t found the right girl yet, but on closer reflection, the relationships he’d cultivated with his previous girlfriends had been flat. Not because he hadn’t respected or cared for them, Bitchmonster aside, but because there was something missing. His brothers in uniform had always been where he made his strongest connections, and something about the lack of shame with them, the ability to truly be himself and not something he was expected to be was a haven. It’s why his relationships never lasted more than a few months. His girlfriends could tell they weren’t getting all of him.

But he had to wonder if there was more to it. What if the lack of connection wasn’t due to laying his life on the line alongside his fellow soldiers but because the women weren’t exactly what he needed? Was he prepared to test the theory? Maybe, if he found the right circumstances to experiment with a guy.

For the last several nights, his jerk-off fantasies had taken on a distinctly masculine focus, and he’d never been more sexed up or orgasmed harder. Which was a sad commentary, if his hand was doing a better job than all the pussy he’d gotten since he lost his virginity at fifteen.

“What’s wrong with you?” Donnie asked, bringing him out of his thoughts. “You’ve been weird for a couple weeks now.”

“Weird?” Chris asked, feigning ignorance.

“Yeah, lost in your head, not joking around, avoiding me. What gives?”

I want to do things to you friends don’t do together. And not just tugging one out side by side, watching the same porn vid.

He already had an answer prepped, though, knowing it was only a matter of time before his best friend noticed his preoccupation and called him on his bullshit. It was the truth, but not the whole truth.

“It doesn’t bother you, knowing someone attacked us?” he wondered. “That someone had this much hatred and has killed American citizens in one of the most horrendous and catastrophic events in our history? We can’t even tally the dead yet, because we can’t
communicate
with anyone.”

“We’ve been in the dark before, Chris, and it didn’t turn you into a surly bitch then.”

Chris glared, but its potency was lost in the darkness. “Forgive me for taking exception to the country we’ve sworn to protect on pain of death taking a crippling hit.”

“That’s all this is? You’re upset about the outage?”

“We have no idea who’s behind it. We’re fighting smoke and shadows, and it’s turning our own citizens against us so we have to call the people we’re supposed to protect hostiles. Don’t you get it, Donnie? We have
failed.
Americans have gotten hurt because we didn’t see this coming and put a stop to it.”

“You know that’s not on us specifically, right? It’s on the intelligence community and those who monitor international channels.”

“What difference does that make to the people in Atlanta who are literally watching their city blown to pieces because their way of life has been decimated?”

“Okay,” Donnie breathed. “If you want to take responsibility for the entire fucking country going off the rails, you go right ahead. But I’m going to concentrate on fixing the problem where it counts, with the very people who need us most.”

Chris let his shoulders slump. “I want to fix it, too. It’s just, how do we know what we’re doing won’t be sabotaged again because we don’t know who we’re fighting?”

“They’re working on it,” Donnie answered, taking on a sympathetic tone as he squeezed Chris’s shoulder. “And when they know who to go after, you and I will be the first to volunteer to go get ’em.”

The conversation, while distracting from the problem Chris was really hiding, did help. Knowing it was him and Donnie against the world was a relief, even if it wasn’t the entire issue that kept Chris off balance.

Will he stand by you if he knows you have some schoolgirl crush on him?

The thought was like a rock to the heart of the little bit of relief he’d taken from Donnie’s words, sinking it beneath muddy waters. What would happen if he told Donnie the truth? Would he lose his best friend?

You heard him when that guy told us how Slink’s family kicked him out. Donnie’s not an asshole.

The devil on his shoulder, however, had to drive the pitchfork deeper.
Will he be so supportive knowing it’s
him
you want in your bed? Lots of guys aren’t homophobic, but putting themselves in those shoes is still uncomfortable.

He scowled and shrugged off Donnie’s hand. “I need to shower,” he muttered, leaving Donnie staring after him while guilt and confusion ate at his insides like ants in a swarm.

C
hris walked off
, his head lowered dejectedly and his expression miserable enough to see even in the dim light of the moon. Confusion and irritation fought in Donnie’s chest like indignant, hissing cats.

Very briefly, he considered finding Sarge and telling her he was concerned about Chris, whom he had never seen behave so strangely before. Ultimately, he decided against it. He wasn’t one to go behind anyone’s back, and he wasn’t going to start now, especially not with his best friend. Chris had never shut Donnie out before, however, and he was at a loss as to how to make him talk, but the only way he would ever go behind his back was if he believed Chris needed him to. It had to get a lot worse for that to happen.

He knew the blackout wasn’t all that weighed heavily on the man’s mind. They’d been several days into the disaster before Chris’s attitude set off Donnie’s alarm bells, and if it truly was the crisis getting the man down, he’d have been upset from day one. Trouble was, if Chris wasn’t talking to him, he wasn’t talking to anyone. The rest of the team thought they butted heads too often, but the truth of the matter was, Chris needed to let off steam sometimes, and he needed a target. Not only that, but he needed to be pushed to hit that target. Donnie could spot the signs of an imminent meltdown a mile away, so instead of worrying, he put his head down and walked to their racks, intent on finding a way to push Chris’s buttons.