“The kids love the cottage. It was easy enough to get them to come up here for a spontaneous vacation, but I think they suspected it would only be for a week, two at the most. We spent those first days fishing and relaxing. But every day became a reminder that something really bad was coming. The radio and satellite TV gave dire reports of what was going on in the big cities: Chicago, Detroit, and Indianapolis. It was getting closer and all around us. We decided to close up the homestead. We left the trucks down on the road, covered everything up with brush, ran the trip wire around the property line, and shuttered the windows.
“A few days later, I heard the first gunshots and the screaming from over the hill. I took the boys with me and we watched them take the town; we laid up from that same lake view trail that we used against them yesterday. Couldn’t believe my eyes at how fast it spread. The boys and I couldn’t just sit there. We tried to stop some of ’em. Used the usual tactics—ambushes on the road, set traps, shot at them from the hills to try and slow them down. We killed far more than our share. But for every one we killed, more came in to replace them.
“Eve heard about the ponds over the VHF. We confirmed it a day later down at the East Bay; we saw them dragging people to the water. It got too hairy for us after that. They seemed to be looking for us. The things started spending more time out here in the woods, hunting for survivors. It was like they knew we were here somewhere. We decided we’d stretched our luck to the limits and voted to lay low and hide, wait for the military to retake control. We stayed locked up in the cabin most of the time, and always at night. Only making runs into town for essentials. The boys, well they—”
Jacob held the bottle, taking another sip, which was easier this time. “I’m sorry about your sons.”
Stone nodded, looking away. “You know, some people think losing someone you love is the most painful thing you can experience in your life. It’s not. It’s hard, but the pain will fade,” Stone said, looking at the red door. “The real pain is knowing that when the Devil comes down those stairs for the ones you love, there isn’t shit you’ll be able to do to protect them from it. I live with that every day. How will I protect those kids back there? I don’t know, Jacob. What will I do when they come for us?”
Jacob swallowed hard and looked away. He took a third sip, this one longer, now finding the bourbon smooth. The pain in his body relaxing, he slouched in his chair and stared into the lantern. Rogers wended toward them from the darkened corner of the room. He rummaged over the table and filled a small tin cup with coffee before moving closer to the other men and taking a seat. He reached over, grabbed the bottle from Jacob, and topped off the cup before setting the bottle on the floor.
“Radio is sending fine, but nobody is picking up,” Rogers said. “I think I’ll go on alone tomorrow. I can move faster and send help back for you.”
“Where exactly will you go?” Stone asked.
Jacob, suddenly caught off guard, didn’t know the answer to the question. He looked at Rogers, waiting for a response.
Rogers put the cup to his lips and took a sip. “I guess I’ll continue driving north; find that comms tower on the Army base. Try to reach command and get a ride out of here then send a bird back for you all.”
Stone chewed his lower lip and used a hand to rub his tired eyes. “I’ve been thinking about that—this Army base. It doesn’t make sense to me.”
“How so?” Rogers asked.
“For starters, Grayling is even farther away. Why would you want to go farther if you can’t send a message from here? There's a local state police post in town. I’d bet they have just as good a radio tower—hell, maybe better. I know they can hit patrol cars a good distance upstate.”
Rogers took another sip, thinking about what the old man had said. “This police station, is it close to the lake? You sure it’s still intact?”
“I’m sending Eve to town in the morning. I want to make sure those things are gone. She can take you to the station to have a look.”
Chapter Forty-Eight
Jacob opened his eyes, trying to remember where he was. It was dark, but the silence had ended. The noise outside reminded him that he was in hell; the constant calling, the high-pitched screams. The Darkness, Deltas, the black-eyed bastards—whatever they hell they chose to call them—were out there, wounded and blinded. They were emerging from their dens, or wherever they spent their days, to howl, hunt, and feed. Except tonight they came out screaming. He’d heard them crying out in the night before, but this was different; this wasn’t the typical moan of the hunters. It was agony. They were out there dying and suffering the effects of the dioxin.
He lay on the top bunk, listening to their cries. He tried to sleep, but every time he closed his eyes, their screams entered his dreams. He felt James shift below him, the big man tossing in the bottom bunk. “You awake?” James whispered.
“I am. You feeling all right?”
“I woke up a few hours ago. Warm and soft in this bed. The night was quiet. I tried telling myself this was
