Black Sun by Clifford Beck - HTML preview

Chapter 16

Although her vomiting had largely subsided, Abigail, again, refused to go back inside, leaving Ryan with the nerve-wracking task of retrieving as much food and water as they could carry. As he entered the house, he felt a strangely repelling sensation coming from the direction of the living room. This, he took as a warning against exercising any degree of curiosity, and quickly reached the conclusion that he had seen more than enough of death for one day. But although there seemed to be plenty of food stored in the kitchen, he discovered an obvious problem. How would they carry it? Solving this issue meant further exploration of the house and the odd force that continued pushing against his mind was preventing him from doing so, even though he understood its necessity.

After a quick examination of the kitchen, Ryan returned outside where Abigail sat against the house, finishing the last of her bottled water.

“Well,” he began. “There’s lots of food, but I think we have a problem.”

Abigail looked up with a confused expression. “What is it?” she asked.

He sat down next to her and, bringing a bottle of water to his lips, informed her that in spite of the amount of food they had discovered, there was no way to carry even the smallest amount. It didn’t take long for Abigail to fly into a tearful panic. “I’m not staying here!” she said.

Ryan tried to interrupt, not yet having suggested a solution. “Abby, listen...”

But, Abigail’s fear had already led her into the irrational as her emotions began to peak.

“There’s a fuckin’ dead body in there, and I’m not fucking staying here!”

Ryan let her rant for a few moments, allowing her to tire herself out.

“Abby,” he began. “We’re not staying here, but we need a way to carry some of this stuff.”

Having finally expended her energy, Abigail’s thoughts began to clear, but her mind had gone blank and lacking any suggestions, she turned back to Ryan.

“So, what do we do? It’s not like we have backpacks or anything.” Ryan’s mind turned back to the house as he realized the task ahead of him. He would have to search every room for anything that would accommodate their needs. Backpacks would be perfect, but anything would be better than nothing.

“Look,” he began. “I’m going to have to go back inside and look around. We have to have something, and all this food isn’t going to do any good if we can’t carry it. And I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry. So, can you stay out here while I look around?” Abigail agreed, but not wanting to be alone for too long, asked him to hurry. Having finished the last of his water, Ryan told her he would try to be quick and getting up from the ground, he opened the door and disappeared into the house.

Although the house's occupant was dead, Ryan quietly closed the door behind him, but as he let the latch close, he stopped to wonder why. He tried to shake off the overwhelming presence of death, glaring at him from the next room. Found it inescapable as the feeling filled his mind, manifesting itself as a racing heart as well as a pressure in his head. Knowing that he would not find anything useful on the first floor, Ryan walked towards the staircase near the living room. As he set foot on the first step, he heard a voice whisper from within his mind.

“Don’t look. Just get it done. Get what you need and get out. But, don’t look.”

Mustering his strength, Ryan continued his cautious climb up the stairs and reaching the second floor carefully examined the hallway. Not surprisingly, it looked exactly like the house they had stayed in the night before and Ryan, finding this to be an advantage, believed that searching it would be that much easier.

Making a quick search of the bedrooms, Ryan found them well-kept, almost to a fault. He rummaged through the closets, only to find clothes hanging from wooden hangers and shoes stored on the shelves above. Now, the only place left to inspect was the attic and in spite of the house's new construction, he couldn’t help but feel a dark sense of dread as he anticipated climbing up into its dusty space. He certainly didn’t expect some drifting specter, wandering out through the floor, but the idea of exploring such a place, when death lurked just yards beneath him, left him more than unsettled. Finally finding the trap door, Ryan reached up and pulled a thin cord that brought a set of steps down to the floor. With the power out, the dark view of the attic seemed to reach down with a taunting hand, filling Ryan’s mind with a surreal anticipation of something that only existed within his imagination. Slowly, he climbed the steps, his arms outstretched as he felt his way through the darkness and arriving at the top was struck by an uncomfortable wave of humidity. But, at the far end of the attic was a small vent, letting in only an inkling of light. Struck by inspiration, he made his way over to it and, working his fingers beneath its aluminum frame, pried it loose. Relieving it of its shallow moorings, Ryan squinted as the cool morning light, illuminating the attic with its divine purity. Turning away, he quickly set about the task of looking through the numerous boxes and bags that lay hastily spread out across the attic floor. Many were filled with clothes, books, trinkets and framed pictures of what appeared to be family members. Speeding his search, he dumped the entire contents of each bag and box out onto the floor until finally discovering a large canvas zippered bag and seeing no more reason to continue looking, Ryan quickly returned to the first floor. The presence of death still filled the house as he made his way to the kitchen. Once there, he began filling the canvas bag with canned food and opening the refrigerator, relieved it of every bottle of water.

With the bag filled, Ryan returned to Abigail, who still sat with her back against the house. The sudden opening of the door startled her into a wide-eyed gasp.

“Fuck,” she said. “You scared the shit out of me. What took you so long?”

Ryan set the bag on the ground.

“I hurried as fast as I could,” he replied. Having calmed her nerves, Abigail got to her feet and, with a look of anticipation, inquired about what he had retrieved. Without having made a mental list, Ryan kept his description brief, stressing the need to leave.

“So, which way do we go?” Abigail asked. In his obsession to acquire food and water, Ryan had momentarily lost sight of their goal to reach Albany, and it was taking longer to get there than he knew it should.

“Well,” he began. “I still think we should stay close to the roads, but not out in the open.”

Abigail agreed and, once again, they left in the direction of Albany.

The area they were traveling through was largely open, with trees lining the road as sound barriers for the developments that lay off in the distance. They soon found these trees to be more than adequate cover, hiding them from any passing eyes that may wander down the road, looking for trouble. But as they approached the intersection of Maxwell Road and Arthur Road, Ryan suddenly realized something they had forgotten and paused to chastise himself.

“Fuck,” he said.

“What is it?” Abigail asked.

Her eyes took on a worried look as though he had discovered some life-threatening issue, forcing them to return. “We forgot blankets,” he replied.

Now, a slight smile came to Abigail's face as she remembered their previous night.

“Do you really think that’s going to be a problem?” she asked. This prompted a smile from Ryan, who remembered waking up next to her with a hand on her breast. “Well,” he answered. “I guess not.”

Before taking another step, Abigail acted on the moment and quickly stepping in, put her hands on the sides of Ryan’s face and kissed him deeply on the mouth. Both fell into the trance-like state of passionate bliss, an instant of time that seemed to go on forever. But time suddenly called to them, and unwillingly breaking away from each other, Abigail was the first to speak. “So, I guess we should keep going, huh?” Ryan took a deep breath as he felt his face flush with arousal. “Yeah,” he replied. “We probably should.”

Continuing on their way, they took each other's hand, feeling the emotional and physical warmth the other so badly needed. Ryan, having denied himself the willingness to move on after the dissolution of his family, had suddenly realized his need for a deep human connection. Now, it walked beside him, hand in hand, near a lonely road, on the way to a life of certain chaos and overwhelming difficulty. But, they had each other and with as many hardships as they would face, the emotional bond that had been sealed with a simple kiss would serve as the tow-line for what would be their life together; the savior of sanity in a world that now lay in shattered disrepair.