Kevin McLaughlin
patreon
Chapter 2 - Things in the Dark
🕑 Added 2025-06-23 23:51:08 +0000 UTCI peered through the window again. The folks in the next car over were getting increasingly agitated, moving around a lot. One of them, a middle-aged woman, came over to the door, facing me, and jostled the handle. To my surprise, the door popped open. Gerald must not have locked it behind him when he left. I twisted the handle on my door and it opened as well, sliding into the doorway. Now there was just open space between us.
“Are you folks okay over there?” I asked her.
“Yes, but are you hearing those shouts?”
“Screams, you mean?” I asked.
She nodded. “There’s something wrong.”
There was a lot wrong. We were in a train car, underground, with the power out and almost no lightning, our phones were all dead, and someone sounded like they were in agony not too far away from us. I didn’t say that, though. I just gave her a nod.
“Why don’t you come in here?” I asked.
“Oh, I couldn’t,” she replied. She pointed behind her. “My husband is over there. I just wanted to see if you folks knew anything we didn’t?”
I shook my head. “Sorry. Wish we did, but we’re as in the dark as you. Pun intended.”
She gave me a dry chuckle for my trouble. “The conductor said to wait, so I’m going to go sit with my husband. Good luck.”
“You, too,” I told her. She shut her door, and I shut mine.
Then I turned and went back to Amanda, who was still surrounded by the kids. “Can we talk?”
“Sure.”
She left the chem light with the kids and we stepped toward the front of the train. More screams erupted from behind us, and the mood in the train was headed fast toward panic again. The kids especially were wide-eyed now, all of them staring at the rear door of the car like some monster was going to come through it at any second.
I wasn’t entirely convinced one wouldn’t, which said a lot about my state of mind, too.
“I’m not sure we should stay here,” I told her.
She glanced the way Gerald went as another scream broke out. She was scared, too, but she was keeping her shit together. Another reason I loved her. “The conductor said to stay put, though.”
“That was before people started screaming back there,” I said, keeping my voice low. “I think we have to assume something is going very wrong toward the rear of the train.
More screams, closer still. Whatever it was, it sure sounded like it was working its way forward, and I really didn’t want to be there when it arrived.
“But if we leave, in the dark? No guide, no lights except that one stick? I don’t know, Cam. It feels risky. If it was just us, you know I’m always up for an adventure, but with the kids, too?” She sounded scared, and I couldn’t blame her.
Either choice had risks. Which was safer? We had no way to tell. I thought about it a minute, but the fact was, if Amanda and I disagreed, odds were she was right. I tended to be the one going off half-cocked and trying to right the wrongs of the universe. She was the solid ground that I relied on for stability.
“Okay, we’ll stick around, at least for now,” I said. “But can you quietly make sure the kids are ready to move, if we need to?”
She nodded. “Sure can. That makes total sense.”
“Good. While you do that, I’m gonna check the front of the car for any supplies that might be useful. Just in case, right?”
She nodded again, although a frown flickered across her face. “Don’t get yourself in trouble, right?”
“I won’t.” I gave her a quick peck of a kiss, grabbed my mostly-empty messenger bag, and turned back toward the little cubby where the driver sat, looking for anything that might be useful.
I searched the area, but didn’t turn up much. I found the compartment where the glow sticks had been stored, and was delighted to find three more of the things and a pair of road flares. That was a serious plus. I stashed them all in my bag. If a rescue team arrived soon, I’d hand it all right back to them, but if we had to walk out of this tunnel on our own, I wanted to be sure we had plenty of light to do it!
“Hey, something’s happening in the next car!” That was the guy at the back of the train again, and this time he sounded like he was having a full-on anxiety attack. He practically shouted the words, and his voice shook at the same time.
Of course that got all the kids’ attention right away. It also got mine. I stared straight out the back window of the car into the one beyond. I caught a glimpse of movement, something coming into the car from the far end. There were shouts, then screams, and the green light of the glow stick in the next car suddenly flashed brightly then dimmed, like it had been tossed across the car and landed under the seats.
More screams. More shouts. I raced toward the back of the car, but I couldn’t see much through the dirty windows. Just flickers of movement. Something was happening in there. Something bad.
I reached the back door just in time to see the woman I’d spoken with before rush to the glass, like she was trying to open her door again and come across. Her forehead was dark, and I realized that was blood, dripping from her scalp. Her mouth was open in a scream I could barely hear through both doors, her face a mask of raw terror.
Then something yanked her away from the door, and I couldn’t see her anymore.
I had zero doubts. There was something very bad happening, and it was coming our way. I grabbed the door handle, hoping I could keep the thing closed. Without the key, I couldn’t lock it again, but maybe I would be strong enough to keep it closed?
“Help me hold the door!” I shouted to the man next to me, but he ignored me and just continued staring out the back window, gibbering in terror. I’d never heard someone gibber before, but now that I had I understood the word a whole lot better.
I glanced over my shoulder back toward Amanda and shouted to her. “Time to go, hon! Grab the kids and make for the exit at the front of the car!”
“What about you?” Amanda shouted back.
“No time! Go!” I said.
Movement in the next car caught my attention again. There was little light there now, so all I could see were the barest flickers of motion, but something opened the door across from me. I saw something, not someone, because when it came through the doorway into the space between the trains, it was shorter than a person, with a face that looked more like an animal than a man. I had no idea what I was looking at, out there.
But then it was crossing the gap between the trains, whatever it was. It moved fast, so quick I could barely keep track of it. One moment it was in the other car, then it was at my door, down low where I couldn’t see its face, working at the handle. I held fast, grunting with strain as I tried to keep the door shut. It wasn’t working. Somehow, small as the creature was, it was still stronger than me.
It wasn’t alone, either. Two more of them moved into the gap between the cars, staging themselves to spring as soon as the door opened.
I glanced back to make sure Amanda and the kids were already on their way, but they were all still bunched up at the front of the car!
I shouted back to them. “Amanda! You need to get out of here now! They’re coming! I can’t hold it!”
“The door won’t open!” she said, her voice more desperate than I’d ever heard before.
We were screwed.
There was no way I could keep them out. She hadn’t gotten away. The kids were still here, too. I strained, working to keep the thing shut for just a few more seconds, like every instant I could buy was the most precious thing in the universe.
Then the things outside pulled hard, the door slipped open, recessing into the side of the doorway, and they were inside.
One of them bowled me over in an instant, knocking me back onto the seats. It reeked, the smell a mixture of animal and a sewer. The creature was definitely not human, its face long like that of a fox or rat, its body covered with fur. It pounced on top of me as I fell, and I barely managed to stop it from plunging a twelve-inch knife into my chest. I blocked, then grabbed its wrist and strained to keep the blade away from me.
As I fought, I was dimly aware that more of the things were swiftly moving through the compartment. The terrified man who’d been watching through the back windows went down in a flash, gurgling briefly before falling to the floor of the train, bleeding. The other two creatures I’d seen raced forward, attacking each passenger as they reached them.
“Amanda! Run!” I shouted again while I strained against the knife. I couldn’t believe how strong this thing was! Let alone what it was. I’d never heard of anything like this. It was a biped, with hands not that different from mine, but its face, its fur, everything else about it was just wrong.
I jerked my body sideways and the knife smacked down into the seats, stabbing through the plastic seat. Damn, how strong was this thing? It jerked the knife back, but it was stuck. That wasn’t going to last long. The thing was already working the blade free, using its other arm to keep my body pinned to the seats. Soon as that blade was loose again, it was going to bury the thing in me.
I couldn’t let that happen. Amanda needed me. Those kids needed me.
Desperate, I reached down. My hand hit my messenger bag, and I remembered what I had inside. I flipped it open, fingers grasping for what I was looking for: a flare. Once I had it, I popped the cap off and swung the flare at the creature. It blocked with the same arm it had been using to pin me down, which freed more of my body.
Then I swung the flare again, and this time it scratched against something the creature was wearing—some bit of rough metal, almost like scrap that had been turned into armor. It was ragged enough that the tip of the flare sparked, caught, and lit up like a small sun.
The brilliance of the flare blinded me for a moment, but it was even worse for the creature. It shrieked as brilliant light filled the space between us, heat rolling off the flames. I didn’t hesitate—I shoved the burning tip of the flare directly into the monster’s face.
It screamed again, staggering backward as its fur caught fire. Those flames spread fast, too. It gave a series of howling and hissing noises as it fell against the wall, twisting from one side to the other trying to put out the fires, even as they grew.
It had dropped the knife. I snatched the weapon up, then stabbed the thing in the torso once, twice, and a third time. On the third strike, it stopped making noises and slid down the wall, falling to a heap on the floor of the train.
I whirled toward the front of the car, Amanda’s cries already ringing in my ears.
Comments
MARK FRINK
almost no lightning should be: almost no lighting
