Black Sun by Clifford Beck - HTML preview

Chapter 21

“Well, I guess we’re almost there,” Ryan said.

“Yeah, it shouldn’t be much farther,” Abby replied. They stood briefly, looking out at the campus of the state university. Somewhere amongst the concrete buildings was an apartment house that housed a small efficiency apartment where Abigail lived her previous life as an art student. Now, it was nothing more than a shelter, a place tucked away on the outskirts of the city. Its only purpose was a place to sleep and eat while the toil of living lay in lecture halls, classrooms, and labs. For at least four years, she would call it home. Today, with the world fallen into darkness, she would return with Ryan to a permanent abode, a place where they would live until such a time as they saw fit to leave. But for now, they would explore the resources of uptown Albany.

The morning was growing late and Ryan and Abigail had begun the final leg of their journey, where they could sleep without sitting against a wall, or lying on a cold concrete floor. Fear would be replaced with relief as they reclaimed a sense of safety away from a world possessed with as much uncertainty as the darkness that had befallen it. Still, neither could be absolutely clear as to what had happened that had brought the daily ritual of life to such an abrupt halt. With the injuries displayed by the dead, Ryan had a suspicion that perhaps the tri-county area had fallen victim to, perhaps, an electrical pulse, maybe from a satellite as an initial attack, part of a larger act of war. Certainly, there were countries capable of such weapons. However, he chose not to discuss this with Abigail, believing that the idea of a direct attack on American soil would only upset her further.

Walking down from the highway, they stood at the edge of the university campus and looked across its concrete expanse. Its centerpiece, a large circular fountain, was symmetrically offset by four high rise towers, each housing hundreds of students. However, as impressive as it was, both Ryan and Abigail noticed one strange feature. It was spring semester and although midterms were over, the campus looked abandoned.

“Where is everyone?” Ryan asked.

Abby knew that during the summer break there should still be a few students around, taking summer classes. “Well,” she began. “It’s July. Most students have gone home for the summer.”

In spite of what they had seen thus far, he thought that there must be, at least, a few panicked students wandering the campus. This, of course, forced his curiosity to the surface and, looking at Abigail, suggested they investigate.

“Well,” Abigail replied. “As long as we don’t stay too long, ‘cause looking at this kinda creeps me out.”

“Okay,” Ryan said. “But can we go to the library?” Abigail gave him an odd look, baffled by his request. “Why would you want to go to the library?” she asked. He had been thinking over the last couple of days that, given their circumstances, a bit of knowledge on survival could be a valuable commodity and what better place to find it than at a library. Certainly, the University at Albany would house such books, but with the power out, any computer catalog system would be of no use and daylight would only last for so long. However, Abigail agreed that learning a few survival skills was a good idea and that the library should be their first stop.

As a matter of caution, they walked down Fuller Road and skirted the edge of the campus, being certain to watch for others who may be wandering about. But, the campus seemed eerily empty and in the quiet broadness of daylight, the only sound that could be heard was an occasional breeze, wafting through the collection of buildings and towers, frozen into lifeless strongholds of past academic treasures; ideas that will never again be conveyed. Yet, as they continued to walk, the campus opened its full expanse to them, prompting Ryan into a sense of wonder. “Wow,” he began. “This is impressive. I should’ve gone here to study.”

“Where did you go to school?” Abigail asked. She didn’t see the conversation as being all that important, but it helped to ease her nerves.

“Um, I went to Clarkson,” he replied. “So, where’s the library?” Turning left on Tricentennial Drive, Abigail proceeded to give Ryan a brief tour of the central area of the campus. “Well,” she began. “There are two libraries. One is the University Library and the other is the Science Library. They’re pretty close to each other, so we should be getting to them soon.” Within only a few minutes, they reached the university library. The late morning light was bright and harsh, but walking into the library brought on the memory of their recent stay in the mall. Standing just beyond the doors, Ryan and Abigail faced the humid darkness that lay before them with shelves of books towering row upon row, trailing off into the darkness. Abigail had been attending the university for almost three years, yet the dark stillness of the library seemed alien and bleak.

“I don’t like this,” she said.

Ryan looked at her curiously.

“What is it?” he asked. “It’s just a library.” A chill came over her as she stared into what seemed like an eternal abyss. In her mind, this was not the same place she had repeatedly visited during her studies, but a place filled with creeping silence. She stepped off to the end of the nearest aisle and peered down, trying to find the far wall. However, the heavy blackness that enveloped the library stood fast, as a rampart against the rage of war, allowing nothing to pass. “It reminds me of the mall,” she replied. “I just don’t like it. It’s too dark and too quiet.”

Although he didn’t say it, Ryan felt it too, but he tried to stay focused on the one thing that brought them there. “Well,” he began. “This shouldn’t take long. If there’s a section on camping, we should be able to find what we need and get out, okay?”

Abigail continued to stare into the unyielding darkness. Her mind filled itself not only with a newfound fear of the dark, but doubts over whether a book was worth wandering through a place that had been so eerily transformed by a simple lack of power.

Stepping towards the darkness, Ryan began his search but having been overcome with fear, Abigail grabbed his arm, holding him back.

“Ryan,” she began. “Do we really need this that bad? I just want to go home, catch a buzz and get some sleep. Please, can we just go? We can find a bookstore later-someplace smaller. There’s lots of places we can go. Please, let’s get out of here. I don’t like this.” By now, Ryan had become fully aware of his own fear of the dark. And although he refused to give in to it, he wanted Abigail to feel safe and quickly decided that it would be best to retreat to her apartment for the next couple of days. “Okay,” he replied. “If we need it, we can get it someplace else.” Abigail clutched him with both arms and kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you,” she said.

She let out a sigh as her body began to relax with the knowledge that they would soon be safely tucked away within the shelter of a familiar place. In her mind, she would be away from the terror of living darkness that seemed to follow them relentlessly.

Leaving the dark halls of the library, Ryan and Abigail began walking to the other side of the campus. They kept a watchful eye for anyone who remained, assuming that most of the students had left out of panic – at least, those who had survived. But, as they made their way across the campus, one thing stood out. The campus seemed empty, with no signs of survivors, nor any dead lying about. The quiet abandon of the university screamed out its silence, humming in Ryan and Abigail's heads, not unlike the mall or the library where the sound of darkness had been paired with the impenetrable void of blackened air. However, the haunting of their senses would never pass, be it in the broadness of daylight or in the heaviness of night. While Ryan did his best to throw off the affliction of fear that had crept into his mind, Abigail was clearly shaken. The college she had spent nearly three years attending had turned into a ghost town and its collapse now represented the end of her artistic ambitions, leaving her rattled with apprehension. “Fuck, why is it so quiet?” she asked. Ryan had been asking himself the same question, but he tried using as much logic as the situation allowed. “I know this is going to sound stupid,” he began. “But maybe this happened during classes and the people who could leave just took off.”

It made perfect sense and Abigail, realizing that the dead had likely been left sitting in lecture halls and classrooms, felt a bit less fearful, knowing that the sight of death was, for the time being, taking a temporary respite.

Lead by tension and fear, they quickened their pace and soon approached the physical education building. From there, the edge of the campus could be seen and from there, Western Avenue was well within sight. Abigail squeezed Ryan’s hand in anticipation of finally arriving at her apartment and, pulling him off to the right, took the lead in the direction of a small residential neighborhood called McKownville. It lay between Western Avenue and Route 87, with her apartment near a small park by the same name. A smile came to her face as she broke out into a nervous sweat. She wanted to believe that her possessions had been left intact and that looters had not discovered what had now become a permanent dwelling, as she was unable to return home to her family. “We’re almost there!” she said.

Ryan tried to keep up, but Abigail was too excited to slow down and was nearly pulling him off his feet. “Slow down a little,” he said. “Abby wait.” His words went unheard until he stopped and pulled her back. “What are you doing?” she asked. “We’re almost there.” Deciding on a cautious approach, Ryan tried to convey his thoughts on simply walking in without making careful observations first.

“Abby, listen,” he began. “Let me ask you something. When you left, did you lock up first?”

Fishing into her pocket, she removed her keys, remembering that she always locked up her apartment. After all, she was a young single woman living alone and in a place like Albany, one never left their door unlocked.

“Yeah, of course,” she replied.

“Okay,” Ryan began. “So, what if we get there and the door is unlocked, or the lock’s been broken?” In her exuberance to return to the warm safety of her apartment, Abigail had not considered the possibility that it may not be safe to return and, turning to Ryan, looked to him for a suggestion on how to proceed.

“So, what do we do?” she asked.

Without hesitation, suggested they make a quiet approach, looking and listening carefully. It made perfect sense, but only served to instill more fear in Abigail, not knowing if her apartment was truly safe.

It wasn’t long before they walked into the neighborhood, where Abigail's apartment occupied a modest wooden tenement building. A quiet area of Albany, its centerpiece was a small park that lay between the neighborhood’s housing and route 87. But, in spite of its quaint appearance, the crisis that had befallen them demanded the assumption that no place was safe. And Ryan insisted that before entering the house, they walk around it and look in the windows for anyone who did not belong there. “How well do you know the people who lived here,” he asked. “Pretty well,” she replied. “But most of them were grad students and kept to themselves, writing papers.” Having gone to college himself, Ryan knew the chaos that could be created by enthusiastic undergraduate students and envied her for the quiet environment she lived in.

“Wow, this is a nice place,” he said.

With her fear briefly fading, Abigail turned to him and smiled warmly.

“Yeah,” she began. “I thought if I could get a job in advertising, I’d stay here. But now, it looks like I’m staying anyway.” Walking quietly, they circled the building and, standing on tiptoes, peered into the windows, seeing nothing but curtains and furniture. However, with Abigail's apartment on the second floor, they would have to enter the house in order to investigate further and circling around to the front, they walked up the wooden steps and onto the porch. It was an old Victorian house that had been restored and, looking at the double doors, Ryan noticed that the windows were made of leaded crystal.

“Wow,” he began. “This is a really nice. I wish I lived in a place like this when I was in school.”

“Yeah,” Abigail replied. “This is the kind of place you want if you like to be left alone.”

Going into her pocket again, she pulled her keys out and, fumbling through them, picked out her house key. “Okay,” she said. “This is it.”

They both held their breath as Abigail slipped it into the brass keyhole. Save for a small click, the lock turned effortlessly and with her hand on the brass doorknob, she slowly pushed the door in. The bottom of the door slid across the carpeted floor as it opened onto the foyer and walking in, Ryan marveled at the house's interior. As an architect, he had the gift of visual thinking and could see every detail of what had been to bring the house back to its historic glory.

The door trembled slightly as Abigail pushed it open, its hinges letting out a quiet creek. Taking several cautious steps, she led the way in, with Ryan following behind. The sky was bright and clear, allowing the house's interior to be well lit, with only a hint of dust in the air, creating shafts of light that streaked down to the floor from the tops of the windows. Continuing from the front door, Abigail felt a sense of relief at being back in the comfort of home. But, this was offset by the fear she held that any remaining occupants might be dead, their bodies left wasting in their respective apartments. Yet, the air was free of the smell of decay, leaving Ryan and Abigail cautiously confident that death had fled the house, along with the living, determined to continue the mad pursuit of survival.

Reaching the back of the house, they stood at the foot of the stairs. As with the rest of the house, the stairway had also been restored, mostly for safety and standing at the bottom, they listened closely for even the faintest indication that someone else may still be there. But, there was nothing. Ryan offered to lead the way up to the second floor, however, he told himself that this time he would not be falling up the stairs. Perhaps down, but certainly not up. The first few steps seemed to be the most nerve-wracking, yet as they continued up they kept an ear to the air, listening for any stirring or the faintest footsteps. Still, there was nothing and finally getting to the top of the stairway, Ryan studied the surrounding space. Anyplace untouched by sunlight was left dim and lifeless, standing out as shadows that seemed to possess a life of their own. Walking quietly down the hallway, Ryan and Abigail saw that many apartment doors had been left open, certainly the results of panicked people, trying to leave as quickly as possible. But, to where was a question neither would ever be able to answer. Now, looking further, they saw a door that had been left closed and quietly approaching it, Ryan directed Abigail to stand-off to the side while he tried the doorknob. He didn’t expect trouble, but if the apartment occupied, he didn’t want to take the chance of her being injured, should someone suddenly barge through the doorway.

Reaching down, Ryan gently grasped the doorknob. It was an oblong shape with years of patina built upon its cold brass surface, as his fingers moved across its surface he felt a relief design, as was common during the house's heyday. The doorknob turned almost silently, yet the door stood fast, resisting his attempt to open it.

“It’s still locked,” he whispered.

Facing the door, Ryan examined for any sign that it may have been forced open, still with the assumption that the apartment may now be occupied. Focusing on the edge of the door as well as the lock, Ryan quickly determined that nothing had been tampered with and that it was safe to enter.

“Abby, you got your keys?” he asked Abigail fished into her pockets and retrieving her keys stepped in front of the door. As with the unlocking of the front door, the key turned smoothly, with only a small click as the latch opened, allowing them to enter.

Like any young college student, Abigail's apartment was not exactly in pristine condition, but it was, at least, organized. A modest efficiency, everything was in one room with a small kitchenette and a bathroom nearby. Still, for a student on a tight budget, it was as much home as any palatial manner. Perhaps not fit for a king, but it was enough for her. “Finally,” she exclaimed.

As soon as she stepped into the apartment, Abigail felt the sudden rush of joy at the relief of being back in the place she had missed for what seemed like forever. With a broad smile and a deep, relaxed sigh, she threw herself on her bed, clutching the pillow to the side of her face.

“Oh my God!” she said. “I never thought I’d miss my bed so much.”

As Abigail began to drift off, Ryan set the green bag of weapons down on the floor and taking the time to scan her apartment saw the dwelling of a hard-working student. Situated on the back of the building, her apartment occupied a dormer, with three windows looking out over the backyard as well as the house behind them. He was hoping for a better view from the front so as to be able to see as much of the street as possible. But, if there was no one else in the house, then why not make use of all of it. Certainly, other apartments would still have food in their cabinets and blankets on the beds. Abigail might object to pillaging the rest of the house, considering that she knew most of its former occupants, but Ryan knew it was important to take advantage of any resources they could find. However, the first order of business was sleep. They had already shared a bed and become quite intimate during their travels to Albany. So assuming that Abigail would not protest, Ryan crawled onto the bed and as he lay down next to her, Abigail rolled over and intertwining her legs with his, pressed her face into his chest. Soon, both drifted off into a much-needed sleep on the warm softness of Abigail's bed, just outside the edge of Albany’s largest, albeit abandoned university, some distance from the less than safe inner city. More importantly, the dead they had so often seen had somehow buried themselves away from conscious memory in exchange for a short time of peace and rest. But this would not always be the case, as life has always been and will continue to be cold, cruel, and unfair. Ryan and Abigail would repeatedly witness the cold specter of death and had already learned that fear was the only thing that would keep them alive.