Darkness Falls Page 5

  Swiping away the tears trailing down my cheeks, I trudge out to the living room and scan the surroundings. A large, blue plaid couch and matching recliner overpower the room. Bookshelves and end tables sit untouched, displaying an impressive collection of dust. Not finding what I seek, I stride to the kitchen. This room has clearly been ransacked. Cupboards hang open while silverware, plastic lids, and napkins lie scattered about the floor.

  My eyes land on a cylindrical white vase that sits proudly on the window sill overlooking the sink. Perfect. Its artificial bouquet of brilliant yellow daffodils will never wither. Maneuvering around the mess, I extend my arm and grab the vase, emptying its contents. Turning back toward the bedroom, I stumble over a coffeemaker that was probably knocked down when this place was looted.

  Graceful as ever, my kneecaps break the fall. My palms plant the floor a moment later, scoring an assist. Raising my head, I’m greeted by the wooden door of a bottom cupboard. It differs from all the others in that it’s the only one still closed. Curiosity overpowers the distraction of my throbbing knees and I tug it open. The small cupboard is crammed with boxes and cans neatly organized. All of the food is organic, the bright packaging heralding its contents’ healthy virtues.

  “Quinn! Are you okay?” Riley’s voice practically startles me right out of my skin. “I heard a thump and you’ve been in there for a long time.”

  “I fell. I’m okay. There’s no one here, um, I mean there is someone here, but she’s…”

  “So, they were right?” Riley asks. “What Aidan and Jeff told you is true?” I nod gravely. “So, what are you doing? Can we go?”

  “I just need to do one more thing. I promise I’ll be quick. Just give me two more minutes,” I say, holding her gaze. Riley nods and steps back out the door. I pick myself up and rush down the hallway, daffodils in hand. I place them on the bed, lean down and whisper, “I’m sorry this happened to you. I’m sorry I didn’t try to stop it. You deserve so much more, but this is the best I can do right now. I hope you’re in a better place. I hope you have peace.”

  With that, I rise, leaving the corpse and her crypt, gently closing the bedroom door behind me. I pause for just a moment to brush the tears off my cheeks. Guilt overcomes me. I might have been able to help that woman. But I didn’t. I hid under the covers, feeling sorry for myself. I wrap trembling arms around my body, trying to contain the regret seeping out. Rushing outside to the porch, Riley’s eyes meet mine as she scrambles up and follows me back to our place.

  Chapter 10

  Catching up to me, Riley places a gentle hand on my arm. “Quinn, are you okay? Do you want to talk about it?”

  “Let’s just get back,” I say as my eyes bounce from home to home. Whoever did this could still be here, just waiting to hurt someone else. My heart lurches and my feet stagger when movement catches my eye. Tilting my head toward the short, bald man shuffling toward us, Riley’s eyes widen.

  As our paths cross, the man barely gives us a passing glance. “Hello,” he says, disinterested, continuing on his way.

  “Hi,” Riley replies.

  At least we know we aren’t the only ones in this whole trailer park besides Jim, Dan, and Benny.

  Back at the trailer, Riley and I plop down on the dusty old couch and I breeze over the details of my discovery. As I replay everything in my mind, one detail feels off. “Riley, why would one cupboard in the kitchen be packed full when everything else in the room was a mess? Do you think whoever ransacked the place missed that one cupboard?”

  “I saw that kitchen when I ran in to check on you,” Riley says. “I can’t imagine whoever did that left anything unturned.”

  “But that’s the thing,” I counter. “The other rooms were fine. It was just the kitchen that was torn apart.”

  “Well, that just shows that whoever did this wanted food and didn’t care what they had to do to take it,” Riley says. “Maybe they just couldn’t carry it all?”

  My mind slides more puzzle pieces together. “Riley, if whoever did this took the time to organize, and maybe even inventory that cupboard, then that means they’re coming back for it.”

  Feeling unsettled, we decide to check in with Benny. We were supposed to be thinking about going to the military base, but too much else has cluttered my brain since we last talked to him.

  As we tug the front door closed behind us, I think about how once again everything has shifted. After a week of isolation, we’re spending more and more time outside the trailer. During that time right after the crash, I kind of forgot that life continued on outside of these walls.

  Our quiet walk to Benny’s is interrupted by what sounds like motorcycles revving to life in quick succession. Turning toward the commotion, we see two riders. The first wears a black helmet with a tinted shield that covers his whole head. It matches his solid black bike. It’s smaller than a motorcycle; it must be some sort of dirt bike. When the second rider comes into view, it’s clear who it is.

  Jim’s brother, Dan, doesn’t bother to wear a helmet. His bug-like goggles must block the wind, but they certainly won’t do him any good if his head meets the asphalt. The guys glance our way as they pass. Riley gives a quick wave and Jim throws a slight nod in our direction. Thankfully, they continue on their way, so we do the same.

  Ambling up Benny’s familiar front steps, we knock on the door. When he doesn’t answer, my heart flutters with panic. What if someone hurt him just like that woman? I knock long and loud this time, not caring if anyone hears. I need Benny to hear. I need Benny to be fine.

  After several long minutes, the sound of shuffling feet travels toward the door. Benny peeks out the window, his wrinkled face relaxing in recognition. Swinging the door open, he waves us inside. “Hi girls, come on in.”

  He moves stiffly. His chestnut face looks pale, and the wrinkles around his eyes are more pronounced than they were just yesterday. Riley touches his arm once we’re inside. “Are you okay, Benny? We were worried when you didn’t answer the door right away.”

  He waves her off. “Oh, I was just taking my afternoon nap, that’s all.”

  “I’m sorry we woke you,” I say. “Want us to come back later?”

  “No, not at all,” he says thoughtfully. “I’ve been thinking about you girls a lot, about your parents, and I’m glad to see you. I’ve always got time for you two.”

  The three of us settle into the living room and talk. We fill Benny in on our discovery. He listens in silence, a fist to his mouth. I’m not sure if he’s using it to hold his words or his emotions inside. Maybe a little bit of both. Guilt flickers through me when I realize how much grief and pain we have brought him over these few days. I know he cares, but maybe it’s unfair of us to unload all of this on him.

  When Riley and I finish, Benny looks between us. “That sounds like Mrs. Adams,” he says, rubbing his chin in thought. “People make bad decisions when they’re scared. I’m glad you girls have each other, but I still think you should be staying here with me.” He pauses briefly, as though he wants to say more. “Have you girls thought about leaving? Going to the base?”

  “We honestly haven’t talked much about it,” I admit. I’m not sure what else to say but Riley jumps in, voicing a thought I whole-heartedly agree with. “Benny, what if all three of us stuck together? What if we all go to the military base? Things aren’t safe here anymore and we don’t want to leave you behind.”

  Benny chuckles a hollow laugh. “Oh, girls, I just don’t get around like I used to. I’d slow everyone down. I’d make the trip more difficult for everyone.”

  His argument has changed. I need some facts if he’s going to play this card. “Benny, how far is it to the base? How many people are going and how are they getting there?” His steely gaze tells me he doesn’t like my challenge, but he must know we’re not going to just forget about him.

  He releases a long exhale and rubs his forehead. His deep voice is strong. “There’s a group of about 20 going. They’re headed nort
h to Dover Air Force Base. It’s about 30 miles from here.” I cross my arms and raise my eyebrows, waiting for him to answer the rest of my questions.

  “They have cars, but they aren’t sure how far they’ll be able to drive.” Riley and I look at him questioningly. Benny splays his hands in front of him as he explains. “With the Route One wreck, they might not be able to get through. And even if they do, there could be more wrecks along the way, blocking the road.” That’s right, of course. Who knows if the smashed and stacked vehicles have been cleared or how far their clutter reaches. They must block a good portion of the highway. In our single-minded goal to reach the trailer that first day, we didn’t pay much attention, but I vaguely recall feeling like a tiny boat surrounded by a sea of cars and trucks. It probably wasn’t our smartest move to boycott the news.

  “Benny,” Riley starts. “Who is planning to go? We’ve barely seen anyone around here.”

  He scratches his chin and answers. “There’s about a dozen residents, permanent residents, that are going. They’re packing, getting ready to leave. It’s a little early in the season, you’re the only ones I know of that came for vacation.” He leans back, eyes bouncing back and forth between us. “The ones that can get around better have been making trips to the highway, trying to get a feel for a direction to head. They’re gonna take four cars and make a caravan, sticking to the shoulder where the roads aren’t cleared enough yet.”

  Scrunching my eyes and tightening my crossed arms, I eye Benny warily. “So, let me get this straight. You would just have to sit in someone’s car for a few hours and tag along for the ride, but you don’t want to go?”

  Benny immediately adopts the face my dad would get when I challenged his authority. A flicker of heartache washes through me. As if on cue, my tag-team partner jumps in. “Benny, if you cannot give us a good reason to stay here, then we have to insist that you come with us.” I’m impressed. For Riley, that is a forceful statement.

  Backed into a corner, Benny’s gray eyes shift between us as a smirk tugs on his mouth. “I guess saying that no one wants an old man tagging along won’t help?” Riley and I rise in unison and wrap our arms around him. “No!” I say, smiling. We’ve won him over.

  “Ugh. You girls wear me out. I think I need to get back to that nap you rudely interrupted,” he says, grinning.

  Now that we know he’s going with us, even though he didn’t exactly say it, I can freely laugh at his little joke.

  “Benny, I’m really glad you’re coming with us,” Riley says softly. Her words are tinged with emotion. No doubt she feels as I do right now—Benny is the closest thing we have to family here and neither of us wants to let him go.

  “How about we come back tomorrow to help you pack things up?” I suggest. Still grinning, Benny nods once. “That would be real nice, girls. I’ll see you then.”

  Riley and I give Benny one more hug and then say our goodbyes. It’s early afternoon but I’m emotionally drained. We plod back to the trailer and grab a quick, and late, lunch. We weren’t very hungry after finding Mrs. Adams’ body, but now my stomach is demanding sustenance.

  Raiding the cabinets, we find one lonesome can of spaghetti that must have been hiding during our previous searches. After we scarf it down, I inform Riley that I’m following Benny’s lead and taking a nap. She follows me to the bedroom, and as my eyelids grow heavy, the last thing to cross my vision is Riley settling into the other bed with her Kindle.

  Chapter 11

  Talking to Benny must have eased much of the burden on my mind because peaceful dreams dominate my sleep. Visions of Riley, Benny and I at the military base flash through my consciousness. As we enjoy a salty breeze on a sunny afternoon, a cocoon of safety envelops us. Gently, my mind eases out of the dream and my eyes flutter open.

  My eyes sweep the room, landing on a Riley-shaped lump in the other bed. She fell asleep too. Glancing at the wall clock with starfish representing every other number, I confirm my suspicion. It’s 5:30 and we’ve got to get ready for dinner with Slim Jim and Dim Dan. A root canal sounds more fun right about now.

  After gently waking Riley, I splash some water on my face and tug a brush through my tangled brown locks. Just as we’re ready to leave, Riley insists that we bring something with us, like a host gift. I am certain Jim and Dan have no idea what a host gift is and thus there is no need to bring anything. Riley’s manners win and together we scavenge the kitchen for any food we can afford to share. Our stores are dwindling and the best we can do is a box of expired saltines.

  Forcing my feet out the door, I trudge behind Riley for the short walk to Jim and Dan’s trailer. Before Riley can even raise her arm to knock, Jim swings the door open and brandishes a sly smile. “Thought I saw you heading this way,” he says.

  “Thanks for inviting us for dinner, Jim,” Riley politely answers.

  He motions for Riley to enter. I follow her, sealing my lips in hopes that I can avoid saying something rude.

  Dan buzzes around the kitchen, overseeing the stove. Steam pours from a medium-sized pot and the aroma of barbequed meat penetrates the air. Spatula in hand, Dan throws us a wave.

  “Hey, Dan,” I say. Dan’s a decent guy. His biggest flaw is being Jim’s brother.

  After some idle chit-chat and the presentation of our unimpressive host gift, we settle at the table and begin passing around plates of food. Dan has prepared what looks like chicken, buttered noodles, and creamed corn.

  Piling noodles on my plate, I start asking questions before Jim can. “So, where’s your dad?” When silence greets me, I assume my question sounded a bit blunt, maybe because I’ve said about two words since I arrived.

  Jim’s expression darkens, but before he can respond, Dan answers, “Um, Dad passed last fall. Heart attack. Went to sleep one night and…never woke up.”

  I hold Dan’s gaze to convey my sympathy. “I am so sorry. I had no idea.”

  Riley speaks up, “I’m sorry too. Your dad was a good man. I bet everyone misses him around here.”

  Their mom left when the boys were very young, so that means they’re on their own now. Just like me and Riley.

  Jim’s face softens, but it looks forced. “Well, Dad had a good life. Now Dan and I watch over the park and everyone here.” My face flushes as I remember how Jim’s been coming around to check on us. If they took over the property maintenance for their dad, then they really did come over just to check on us. Why do I always have to be such an ass and expect the worst from people?

  “Well, come on now, let’s dig in,” Dan says, his eyes volleying around the table. “Might as well eat while it’s still hot.” With that, he forks a small slab of meat and pushes it onto his plate with his finger. Ever the gentleman, he passes the plate of meat to me when he’s done serving himself. The barbeque scent makes my stomach rumble, but the meat looks really stringy. I take a shot at asking nicely.

  “Dan, this smells really good. What kind of meat is it?” It doesn’t look like pork or chicken. Dan and Jim exchange a knowing glance, and Jim answers me. “Well, Quinn, Dan and I went hunting a bit today. Down the road there’s a…chicken farm, and we went and got ourselves a chicken to cook.” Dan chuckles under his breath.

  “You stole someone’s chicken?” I blurt.

  Riley kicks me under the table.

  I’m not sure this is chicken but whatever it is, I’m not eating it.

  “We didn’t steal anything,” Jim says. He swipes away the trail of barbeque juice running down his chin. Dan holds a bowl out in front of me, “Quinn, have some noodles.” It seems like every conversation we have ends up with Jim and I at each other’s throats.

  “So, Riley,” Jim starts. “What’s your family planning to do now that the highway is a shit storm?”

  Riley shoots me a quick glance and stumbles over her words, “Well, it’s really just me and Quinn now. Mom and Dad...We got into an accident on the way down here and Mom and Dad…”

  I finish for her, explaining that
, between the hammering rain and the shaking ground, we were powerless to avoid landing in the middle of what felt like a NASCAR smashup. Jim and Dan listen intently as I describe how the front half of the car was crushed, yet Riley and I were able to walk away from the backseat physically unharmed.

  “Oh damn, Riley, you were in the Route One wreck last week?” Jim straightens in his chair, genuine concern overtaking his features.

  Riley stammers, “Y—yes. Quinn and I walked to the trailer and kind of laid low for a while.”

  “Oh man,” Jim says. “Dan and I heard all kinds of commotion that day. We hopped on our dirt bikes and raced over to the highway. It was just bumper to bumper metal and glass, people and cars everywhere,” he says. “I wish I knew you were there. I would have found you, Riley.”

  Um, I was there too. It’s as if I’ve completely disappeared from this conversation. Dan must feel left out as well because he chimes in.

  “It was a mess,” Dan interjects, as if our memories and Jim’s recount aren’t clear enough. He starts counting off what happened on his fingers. “So, first a nasty rain storm hit, then the ground started shaking from that earthquake. A few days later, they started talking about some franking accident because of the aftershocks.”

  Riley asks before I can, “What? What are you talking about?”

  Jim jumps in to translate for us. “He means fracking. Didn’t you hear about this? It was all over the news.”

  All over the news? Of course. Jim and Dan have actual cable TV. Our small screen has just a few static-tainted local channels. Aunt Grace doesn’t bother with cable since the trailer is only used a few weeks each year. And, it didn’t exactly help that we turned the TV off after the first few days. I’m guessing Jim and Dan have a really good home entertainment set-up to compensate for what I imagine are pretty flimsy social calendars.