Judgment Day: Part 10

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The doors opened and Daryl stepped out, trying to look in every direction at once. The uppermost level was uncovered, the rainy night pressing hard against the lights. To Daryl, parking garages always seemed to have a certain absolute loneliness. On a rainy day, people didn’t like parking up top, so it wasn’t as full as the lower levels had been. That did nothing but underscore his feeling that the elevator had opened up on some small town, far from Washington’s suburbs. Or an alien environment. It was a world of unnatural peace up here, away from the smoke and the dead rush hour. Nearly half of the level was empty, all the cars clustering in the parking spaces near a far set of stairs that led to the Metro’s pedestrian overpass. He stared hard at them, looking to see if any of the cars were idling, or if any shadows twitched. Everything was quiet up here, though. No headlights speared into the night, nothing moved. The rain gentled the harsh glow of the sodium lamps, the city-lights of the adjacent shopping mall chased the shadows into the corners. The adrenaline falling back and out of his system was like coming down off of some drug. He shook his head and stepped into the rain, no time to crash. But with the sudden wave of exhaustion came images of the evening – the train braking, Molly, the fireball, the hideously burnt faces of the subway creatures, killing and death and staring at Molly’s thin body. He looked back at her guiltily, then he reached out his hand. She paused, thoughtful, then grabbed it and they moved towards the cluster of parked cars, stopping at the closest, a Chrysler with tinted windows. Daryl tried the doors. There wasn’t a clear plan in his head, but safety was the first order of business: Get out of the rain and the night. Rest. Above all, he needed to rest. He felt as if something had sucked years off of his life. He felt like he was going to sink to the ground, babbling, at any moment. Was he responsible for those people who died down there? They were following him and he just stood there while that thing beat them to the ground. He stared at himself in the darkened windows of the sedan, trying to remember their faces, but barely able to make out his own face in the reflection. His heart skipped a beat when Molly gasped and clutched his arm, and he spun around expecting to see an army of those creatures surrounding them. Instead, Molly pointed towards a big travel van. The side door was open, the dome lights lonely in the night amongst all the silent, dark cars. On the pavement beside the van, a woman’s body lay on top of a bag of groceries. He let go of Molly and moved cautiously towards it.

The woman had died in agony, but there was no sign of a struggle. She had clawed at her throat in her final moments, perhaps in the grip of the same sickness that passed over Daryl down below. Her face was pressed against the concrete and he turned her over gently. The dead eyes stared upward, the whites colored by burst blood vessels. He clicked his tongue, then hauled her into the next aisle behind a small compact car. The van’s keys were gripped in her hand and it took a moment to pull them loose, then he quickly frisked her pockets and pulled out a cell phone and a bottle of pepper spray. In the van, four bags of groceries lay on the floor behind the passenger seat. For her, it had been a normal evening. Up until the world ended. But death, even if in agony, was better than turning into one of those creatures. Hell, was it better than surviving? All those apocalypse stories were about survival, but what was the world worth without civilization? No bills, no stupid customers, no need to get up and go to a cubicle every morning. But, then, no new books, no new movies and, before long, no lights and no water. Daryl was a creature of the modern world and, without it, he was at the bottom of the food chain. That though had been driven home several times tonight.

“What happened?” Daryl whispered to the corpse, then he gently passed a hand over her eyes, like he had seen in movies, but they didn’t close. He glared at the cell phone, then turned it on and dialed his home number. All he got was a whirring, clicking sound soon replaced by the automated error message saying all lines were busy.

The interior of the van had two bench seats and a small place for luggage in the rear. It was a nice vehicle, clean and well broken in. The tinted windows were just what Daryl was looking for, as well. That would protect them from anyone making a casual pass-through. Even then, who would single out one car from a full garage? Assuming those things got together and decided to hunt them, which wasn’t a thought to dismiss. He felt certain that they were hunting him, or that they would soon get around to it once they pulled themselves together.

He looked over at Molly, who was pressed against the Chrysler, watching him. Now that the madness had passed from his muddled brain, he didn’t see sex in her body. She was soaked through, her thin frame gaunt and unhealthy in the light and her hair hanging flat and wet around her angular face. He nodded towards the van and she stepped forward. When she was close enough, he whispered, “It’s okay. It was just a body. It’s gone now.” She hurriedly climbed into the van and he followed her, then closed the door and locked it and leaning against the back of the passenger seat with a sigh. Then he looked at her and said, “Why the garage?”

Molly glanced over at him, huddling against the far back seat and hugging her legs to her chest.

“That’s what you asked back there,” he said, watching her closely. “Let’s assume those things are out here.” He said. “More of them, I mean. The garage is no safer, of course, but it’s better than being outside. We’re tired, we’re cold, we don’t know what’s happening. I don’t know about you, but I want to operate with daylight on my side.”

“What could have happened?” Molly’s voice was a crackling whisper.

Daryl shook his head, “I don’t know. But our world isn’t going to wake up in the morning, that’s for sure.”

“Maybe it’s an accident, maybe help is coming.” Molly whispered.

“Do you hear any sirens?”

Molly shook her head. She must have been thinking the same thing. “I don’t hear a thing.”

Daryl nodded, “Right. A subway just blew up in the tunnels and there are no sirens. Everyone on the road is dead. We’re alone, Molly.”

Molly lapsed into silence, staring at her feet. “We’re not alone, though, are we?”

Words echoing what had been said before. Daryl turned around and looked out the windshield, watching the rain pass through the lights. “No, we’re not.” The lights in the stairwell leading down to the pedestrian bridge glowed blue-white, no dark corners or hiding places there. Getting a grip on a situation like this was a hard thing to do, but he was certainly thinking more clearly in the van than he had been outside. It had been less than 20 minutes since he had stepped out of that emergency exit, but it felt like a lifetime had passed. He was still in high gear. A world without police, military, government. A world without protection. How could a wage slave hope to deal with that? The added terror of hostile forces in that kind of world left him cold. One of those creatures was still in the subways… Hell, hundreds of those creatures could be down there. And out here. What they were and where they came from were low on the priority list at the moment. Right now, he wanted to see the morning more than anything else. Then, hopefully, things would be a little more clear. He glanced around and out the other windows, trying to shake the feeling that he was being watched.

“No, we’re not alone.” He said again. “There’s got to be more of those things out there.”

“But what are they?” her voice pitched higher, and she caught herself, glancing away with a determined look on her face.

“I don’t know, Molly. I don’t know anything.”

“Is it just us, then?” she asked. “I mean, it can’t be, can it? Those other people survived…they…”

They didn’t survive, though. The creatures were killing on sight. Daryl turned and looked at Molly, then he reached out and gently touched one of her hands. “There must be other people. Look at us, we made it through. If we can make it, others can make it.”

He didn’t doubt that, either. Where there was one, there was another.

“Where do you live?” She asked in a small voice.

Daryl blinked, the question seemed out of place. “Just near the Glenmont station. About 15 minutes away.”

“Why are we waiting?” Molly asked. “Let’s go.”

“I don’t want to start driving around at night,”

“Why not?” Molly clutched the seat. “We have to get out of here,” she spun around, looking out the windows, “We can’t just sit here. What if those things are looking for us?”

“Then the only car picking its way through a dead rush hour will draw them right to us. I don’t relish the idea of pushing abandoned cars out of the way on a dark street if they really are looking for us.” Daryl tried to sound calm, secure, “We’ll do better with daylight on our side, and if we relax.” He felt as if he were about to scream. The focus of escape and battle was wearing off and panic was setting in, so the calm, secure voice he was trying to achieve probably wasn’t working out to well.

“Relax? Are you crazy?”

Daryl shrugged, “What do you want to do? Panic and run? And what if more of those creatures are out there? What if you simply run until you realize there’s no one left – which appears to be the case from what we’ve seen so far. What if one of us falls down or gets hurt? What if the van blows a tire? What if the road is blocked and we have to backtrack and those things are behind us? Look, it’s all over out there. We need to relax, get our heads together. We’re safe for now. I don’t think those things, if they’re out there, are going to do a car-by-car search. There are probably 200 cars in this garage. We’re safe.” Abruptly, he realized that he was babbling.

“How can it just end?” Molly stared glumly at the moon window.