Black Sun by Clifford Beck - HTML preview

Chapter 19

As the final sliver of the day's waning light faded from the surrounding cityscape, Ryan and Abigail struggled to find what they would need to get through the night. Bottled water was available here as well, but instead of packing all of it, they decided to take only a few bottles and some energy bars. The cold may make sleep difficult, but they wouldn’t starve. Having grabbed two sleeping bags as well, they found their way to the back door, leading to the storeroom. The knob turned with only a slight click but, as Ryan opened the door, he noticed that its hinges gave way without a sound. Under the circumstances, he might have expected a loud creak, but to hear nothing left him uneasy and wary of what might be creeping beyond this metal barrier. Now, with the door pushed wide, Ryan and Abigail stood staring into a black abyss, contaminated with lung wrenching humidity. With the first breath, both took a step back from the open doorway, already feeling as though the room had been robbed of oxygen and replaced by a heavy cloud of unbreathable vapor. They had not even stepped through the doorway and already felt put off by the room’s heaviness. Abigail was quick to protest. “Do we really have to sleep here?” she asked. Taking another step back from the doorway, Ryan took a breath of relatively cool air and expressed his concerns as well. “I know, but unless you want to sleep out here, this is the only place close by where no one can see us.” Stepping through the doorway, he put a hand near the floor, where he found the air cooler and largely free of humidity. “It’s cooler near the floor,” he said. “C’mon, let’s find a place to sleep.”

Letting the door close behind them, Ryan felt his way through the darkness with Abigail following close behind, again, gripping his hand. Absolute darkness had filled the room, leaving it immeasurably vast. Without the thinnest shard of light, its emptiness weighed heavily on their senses, testing their sanity in a strange world of deprivation. Abigail's breath began to quicken as the dark nothingness overwhelmed her, sending her into a panic. “Ryan,” she began. “I can’t do this. It’s too dark. I can’t see.” Her voice trembled as she began weeping. “Please, I have to leave.”

Ryan felt it too, but he didn’t expect to be so deeply affected. A fear of the dark was one thing, but the black void they found themselves in was far too much a threat for him to continue. “Okay,” he said. “Let’s get out of here.” They had only taken a few steps into the storeroom and, turning around, found it fairly easy to find the door with a minimum of disorientation.

Again, the door opened smoothly and just as quiet, yet as they had escaped the brutal silence of the black void behind them, they stepped back into a place familiar only by touch. They had what they needed except one thing, sleep, and finding a well-hidden place for it was proving to be more difficult than either Ryan or Abigail first suspected. Now, with the mall blackened by nightfall, navigating its hallways would be nearly impossible and after a bit of tense discussion, it was decided that they would sleep on the floor, behind the counter. As in the stockroom, it was cooler near the floor, yet hidden away from the passing eyes of anyone who might be interested in more than gathering a few necessary items. Having been an architect in his former life, Ryan had a special gift for anything visual and upon entering the store, he had unconsciously mapped its layout in his head and instinctively knew where the checkout register was. Faced in that direction, he pulled Abigail by the hand.

“C’mon,” he began. “The register’s over here.” Confused by the darkness, she wondered where she was being led and didn’t want to find herself face down on the floor, having tripped over something she would otherwise be able to see. “Are you sure?” she asked.

Ryan replied with confidence, telling her that it was on their way in that he noticed it was on the right-hand side, near the wall. Yet, his memory of it was not keen enough to help him avoid running into the top corner of the nearby display counter. Now, upon scraping his arm across its plate glass edge, he grabbed the bleeding wound and cursed quietly.

“What is it?” Abigail asked.

She had heard the dull thump of his arm impacting against the counter, but in the darkness, she had no idea what had actually happened. Still, Ryan clung to his arm, not knowing how severe his injury was, but in spite of the pain, he suspected it would amount to not much more than a bruise and a mild scrape.

The aisle behind the counter was wide enough for both Ryan and Abigail to lie next to each other. Laying out both sleeping bags, they unzipped them and crawled in. They found them comfortable enough with one exception. Abigail, having seemingly been most affected by the effects of fatigue, was the first to complain. “Oh my God,” she said. “I’m freezing my ass off.” Zipping up the sleeping bag, she curled her legs up. Yet after a few minutes, even this was not enough to keep her comfortable and she continued shivering. Ryan was having similar problems and had also zipped up his sleeping bag.

“Jesus Christ,” he began. “It’s cold as hell in here.” Feeling the same frustration, he sat up and pulled off his clothes, packed them around his body. Hearing the rustling of clothes, Abigail asked what he was doing.

“Well,” he said. “I hope you don’t mind, but I had to take my clothes off and pack them around me because of how fuckin' cold it is in here.”

Now, a different frustration was quickly growing as Abigail's skin began running with tense sweat. They had shared a bed as well as several brief exchanges of romantic passion, yet they wanted much more. Without the least hesitation, Abigail sat up and stripped off her clothes and, like Ryan, packed them between her body and the sleeping bag. Unable to see through the darkness, Ryan knew the sound of falling clothes and, once again, tried to be gentlemanly. “Are you sure you want to do that?” he asked. “I mean, you don’t have to, ya know.”

Although she appreciated Ryan’s concern, their circumstances had forced her to put her dignity aside, and she desperately wanted to be comfortable enough to sleep.

“Listen, Ryan,” she began. “It’s freezing in here, and I need to get some sleep. So, don’t worry about it. I mean, we’re both adults, right? Besides, the first night we slept together, you woke up with your hand on one of my tits. I know you were trying to be gentlemanly, but honestly, I kind of enjoyed it. So, it’s okay.” Ryan’s response came with a bit of hesitation. “Well, alright. But...”

Abigail's tension had mounted to the point where she could no longer control it and, quickly turning over, interrupted Ryan’s words with a heavy kiss on the mouth. Ryan, having been living with his own internal fury, responded in kind. His hands wandered over her moist skin, touching everything his fingers could find. Rolling over on top of him, Abigail sunk her fingernails into his chest as her breasts pushed themselves into his body. As their tongues met repeatedly, Ryan’s hands worked their way around from her back and found their way to her breasts and, cupping them, massaged gently.

But, reality soon intruded upon the heightened anticipation of further sensual exploration when Abigail heard a small sound. It seemed distant, but sound is often produced by movement and many times, the night air magnifies it. It could’ve been nothing, a breeze blowing in through a slightly open door, or perhaps, it was a sign of something far more sinister. Her voice now lowered itself to a whisper.

“Did you hear that?” she said.

An eternity seemed to pass as she waited to see if the sound would repeat itself. She needed Ryan to hear it and at the same time, didn’t want to feel as though she was losing her mind. “I don’t hear anything,” Ryan said.

But, no sooner than he finished did they both hear the quiet occurrence of something neither could identify. Yet, they reached the same terrifying conclusion that they were not alone. Now, they would be forced to either pursue it or risk being pursued. However, the one thing they had not heard was a voice. They hurried to clothe their partially naked bodies as Ryan quickly crawled over to the green bag, where their weapons were stored. At the same time, Abigail, lying on her stomach, worked her way towards the edge of the front doors, where she put an ear to the cool air, listening for the sound to show itself again. If it returned, she might be able to tell where it was coming from and, perhaps, make it easier to identify its source. However, as Ryan crawled next to her holding one of the pistols they had acquired from the arsenal, both were startled to hear a large pane of glass shatter down the hallway. The presence of company was now a certainty, and knowing that Abigail would not be willing to even hold a gun meant Ryan had to be the one to eliminate a threat that would soon arrive.

Right after the plate glass rained to the floor, two voices were heard. They were male and, although still somewhat distant, seemed to be celebrating the joy of mindless vandalism. Shortly after, another window was heard as it splintered and collapsed to the floor in small, sharpened shards. Given the circumstances, Ryan and Abigail assumed that if they were discovered, they would have to fight or run, and it was dark enough that running might not be an option. On the other hand, in such darkness, the vandals, whose presence was growing closer, might not see them at all, and they would simply continue on their destructive path through the mall. But as the sound of shattering glass got closer, Ryan realized that the only way to remain hidden was to retreat back to the storeroom, in spite of the seemingly endless emptiness it possessed.

Turning back to Abigail with a whispered voice, Ryan told her where they would most likely be safe. She had already been traumatized by its inconceivable blackness. Now, she would have it once again. But, it was better than being beaten and raped by two faceless vandals, bent on the idea of wreaking havoc, simply for the pleasure of doing so.

“I don’t like this,” she whispered. “Can’t we hide someplace else?” Ryan didn’t like the idea either, yet he knew that it was the safest place to go and if they were discovered, he would likely have no choice but to take aim and kill them both. Besides, in the pitch blackness of the storeroom, they would never be seen, even if they were only a few yards away.

“I know,” Ryan replied. “But we don’t have any place else to go and if we leave, they’re probably going to, at least, hear us.” Abigail reluctantly agreed and, retrieving their sleeping bags, retraced their steps back to the storeroom door. Again, it opened without a sound and, once more, standing in absolute darkness, they were both overtaken by the disorientation of deprived senses as the surrounding space began to spin. Now, with feet apart, they tried to fight the swaying of an unreal world, whose only governing force was an incomprehensible span of immeasurable blackness, seemingly never-ending, lost in some forbidding place outside of time.

Abigail's breath began to quicken as panic quickly set in. “I fucking hate this,” she whispered. “What the fuck are we doing here?”

Ryan was faring non better, but withheld his fearful reaction in order to take command of his senses and direct Abigail to a calm place.

“Take my hand,” he whispered.

Speaking without thinking, he soon realized that with the boundary of blackness having faded into the disturbing reality of nothingness, it was pointless to throw a towline of safety through its brackish waters. His request, however, was met with an irritated response as Abigail chastised him for what she thought was nothing less than sheer stupidity.

“What?” she replied. “I can’t see a fucking thing.” Ryan let out a sigh of frustration as he saw the foolishness of his request.

“Just follow my voice,” he said.

With his hand still extended, Ryan continued to provide a verbal compass, drawing her closer until their hands finally clasped together.

“What now?” she said. “I can’t see anything.” Having remembered the layout of the store, Ryan knew that the closest wall was likely within arm’s reach and, with his other hand outstretched, found his way to it in only a few steps. Now, it was just a matter of making their way down its edge to a place where they could sit, remaining as still and quiet as possible. But, the blackness that surrounded them was unforgiving and sitting against the wall, their minds continued to fight the waves of the screaming void that tumbled around them. In her continued panic, Abigail sat next to Ryan, whispering to herself.

“Please don’t come in... please don’t come in... please don’t come in…”

The same thought ran through Ryan’s mind as well. But unlike Abigail's fear of being violated, his centered around the very real possibility of having to kill. He would avoid it if he could, however, he would kill to protect Abigail without giving it a single thought and now that he faced that possibility, he was more than ready.

Sitting together in the dark, Abigail clutched Ryan’s arm as the sound of shattering glass drew closer until they heard the store’s windows collapse. The pair of vandals seemed to be moving from one store to another, celebrating as they left each storefront in pieces on the floor. Neither realized how loud the sound of smashing glass could be and as the voices of celebration rose only yards away, Abigail's fear peaked as she began quietly sobbing into Ryan’s shoulder. At the same time, Ryan held his nine millimeter with the safety off while his hand trembled and his skin broke into a sweat. In his mind, he saw the storeroom door burst open as two dark figures walked through. With almost unrecognizable faces, twisted by the darkness, they picked both Ryan and Abigail from the floor, taunting them viciously. Ryan was rendered unconscious by a single blow as Abigail was dragged screaming to the back of the storeroom.

“Ryan!”

Ryan’s mind suddenly snapped back to the darkness, where Abigail still sat with her face buried in his shoulder. The vandals had done their damage and seemed to be moving on, but out of fear, Ryan thought it's best to wait and soon, there was nothing. Silence had, once again, taken over and flooded the darkness with its deafening heaviness. The electrifying experience of fear now gave way to emotional decompression, leading both Ryan and Abigail to a sudden fatigue that drained them of energy, and thus, the Ability to stay awake. Now, Abigail dozed off on Ryan’s shoulder as he quietly slipped away with his nine millimeter gently resting in his hand. A terrifying crisis had been averted and sleep had come easily, guided by the ever-present hand of Morpheus. But, their test of courage and wits was far from complete, and there continued to be a great deal for both of them to learn. Strength, resilience, and a knowledge of survival would not be easy to acquire. Both would spend a great deal of time inspiring courage in each other to do what needed to be done for the sake of continuing their lives together in a world that had collapsed into frightful insanity.