Black Sun by Clifford Beck - HTML preview

Chapter 64

Walking at a slow but regular pace, Ryan elected to occasionally stop to search their surroundings for anything—be it a sign of danger or deliverance. Most of the time, he saw nothing by trees, reducing any hope of finding safety and without the necessary tools for making a shelter, his mind began to spiral into hopelessness. One thought ran through his mind almost continuously—‘there has to be something’. Adding to their crisis was the fact that he was not able to determine how far into the woods they had walked. But as the sun passed its high point, something stood out in the distance. Motioning for Abby to stop, Ryan studied the shape. Although it lay in the distance, it seemed to be consistently formed of regular angles and was brown in color. Bringing Abby up to his side, he pointed out the object. “Do you see that?” he asked. “What does that look like?” Barely more than a dot, Abby studied it when she noticed a glimmer of light reflecting from what could be a metal surface. Turning to Ryan, she asked if he too had seen it, being sure that her mind wasn’t playing tricks on her.

“Yeah,” he replied. “I saw it too.”

Abby wasn’t sure what she was seeing, but she knew that whatever it was, it was real.

“Do you think we should get closer?” she asked.

Ryan considered her question carefully. He knew the risks of exploring an unknown and barely being to see the object ahead of them certainly qualified, but he was willing to take his chances. His only concern was Abby and as he explored the mysterious object he would make sure that she was not far behind, hiding behind a tree.

Walking ahead, Ryan thought it best to stay near the trees in the event someone decided to shoot at them, using the trees as cover. Moving closer, Ryan and Abby stopped to examine what had become a familiar shape. Doubting her senses, Abby again inquired about what she thought she was seeing. “Is that what I think it is?”

Ryan stood next to her, his feet frozen to the warm, summer earth. He also questioned the reality of what stood before them. “Yeah,” he responded. “I think it is.” Quietly, they walked up to a modest wood structure, its windows covered from the inside with what appeared to be burlap. Not knowing if the cabin was occupied, Ryan removed a loaded nine-millimeter pistol from the canvas bag, still filled with weapons. Turning to Abby, he whispered the need for her to hide, pointing out a large tree several feet behind them. “I don't know if this place is abandoned or not, ” he said. “So I need you to get behind that tree, just in case.” But before she could turn around the door of the cabin flew open revealing a woman in her twenties aiming a shotgun at them. Her angry expression seemed more frightening than the shotgun she was holding. Ryan lowered the pistol, trying to avoid a standoff and, hopefully, lessen the tension that had suddenly erupted between them.

“Alright,” she said. “Now who the fuck are you and what the fuck do you want?”

Her name was Emma. She had been hiding in the woods since the beginning, when people began dropping in the streets. The ribbons of light in the sky were something she had never seen, but the amazement that captured her attention was short-lived. And as a witness to the surrounding chaos, a plan for her survival quickly came together, leading her into the forest just south of Pattersonville. Over time, she acquired the tools she needed to perform any necessary repairs, transforming the cabin from an uninhabitable eyesore to a woodland palace, disguised as an uninhabitable eyesore.

She pointed the shotgun at the green canvas bag still slung over Ryan's shoulder.

“What's in there?” she asked.

Ryan lowered the bag to the ground, and opening it revealed the cache of firearms obtained from the arsenal. Both Ryan and Abby felt the tension mount as the weapons were revealed. “Jesus Christ,” Emma said. “Are you getting ready for World War three? Shit.”

In the absence of any demands, Ryan assumed that he was allowed to keep them and started to think that a conversation might, at least, be possible. Emma turned the shotgun towards Abby, who began trembling with the fear that death may finally have caught up to her.

“What have you got?” she asked.

Abby searched her mind for anything that could break the tension and redirect the situation toward a positive direction. Taking off her backpack, she searched through its contents until finding the one thing that seemed to make the world suck a lot less. She still had plenty, sealed in a zip lock bag and holding it up smiled broadly.

“I got weed,” she said.

Emma's expression quickly turned from cautious and hostile to bright and cheerful.

“Oh,” she said. “Well, why didn't you say so? Come on in.” Lowering the shotgun, Emma held the door open as Ryan and Abby stepped in.

It wasn't much to look at from the outside, but once they entered, Ryan and Abby were dumbstruck at what Emma had done. The hardwood floors had been undamaged by time, and in some places were draped by area rugs. On the far wall was a gun rack where another shotgun and two deer rifles were secured. Boxes of ammunition were kept high up near the ceiling. Although Emma had boarded off the windows to prevent light from escaping, she hung drapes for a more homey feel. On a nearby table was a water distillery able to purify three gallons at a time. Lights, however, were a problem. Without electricity, Emma was forced to rely on oil lanterns. These created the risk of fire, but it was better than living in darkness. The cabin was sparsely furnished, but she managed to procure a single-sized bed and a couple of small chairs. Ryan wasn't much on interior design, but Abby, having the mind of an artist, wandered the cabin wide-eyed at what Emma had accomplished.

“Where did you get all this stuff?” she asked. Emma was quick with an answer.

“Well,” she replied. “Maria Lake is about a mile and a half that way. And there's lots of houses around it, so I pretty much have my pick of anything I want.”

Hearing this, Ryan became a bit confused. “Wait a minute,” he said. “If there are houses there, why don't you stay in one of those?”

Having anticipated this question, she explained that she preferred a life of isolation as opposed to the possibility of running into trouble with those who had forfeited their humanness. And if anyone got too close, Emma had no problem with the idea of shooting them. Furthermore, she told them that the only reason they were still alive was because of Abby's presence, believing it was unlikely that a young woman could pose a threat—especially if she was pregnant.