The Long Dark by Billy Farmer (best books to read non fiction .TXT) 📕

was man made or a product of the wind piling the snow was still up for debate. Nevertheless, we walked towards it.

“This is the road," Tom said. Avery agreed.

“Holy squirtin Mother Mary, do ya guys see what I see?” Sam asked.

That happiness evident in Sam’s characteristically crass retort quickly faded to apprehension as we got closer to the edge of town. Off beyond the rough banks of the seawall, I saw a smattering of small structures still mostly cloaked in darkness and blowing snow, but slowly coming into frame as we moved closer. Something odd quickly became evident about those structures and the light poles dotting the road beside them, but also went a long way in explaining why we didn’t see lights in Barrow. There weren’t any. The town was ominously dark.

Chapter 5

Barrow is a Jekyll and Hyde kind of city. If you were to walk the streets, seeing all the wind-battered and tattered houses, all the junk lying around, not to mention the unpaved roads, you might leave with the impression that it was one of the most forsaken and impoverished places you’ve ever seen. Take a closer look and you might be surprised by what you uncover. You’ll see schools that are equally as nice, and even in some cases nicer, than most back in the lower forty-eight, libraries and administrative buildings that are also top notch, and rounded off with many valuable services offered to the community. All of this wouldn’t be possible if it weren’t for the glut of oil revenues that flowed through Barrow, and, well, Alaska in general.

The bleak emptiness battered our spirits worse than the buffeting winds that assaulted us as we passed over the sea wall. There was no one in the streets but us. Our headlamps danced in the darkness, trying to find any sign that our initial reaction was just carryover pessimism from the Patch. Tom tried in vain on at least three occasions to rouse people from their houses by pounding on their doors. There were no answers.

The Hyde side of Barrow was on full display.

Sam pointed to a group of small houses. “You see anythang odd ‘bout ‘em?”

“The doors are open,” I said.

“Lot of houses with the doors wide open. Some shit goin on here.”

“Lot of that going on right now – shit, that is.”

Sam cocked his head, grinned, and said, “We should of done stayed in East Texas.”

“No argument here.”

Tish led us. Because she did her clinicals in Barrow, she had a much better idea about the lay of the land. She had become invaluable as a member of our crew, even before the power went out. It’s funny to think that she almost didn’t come to the Patch.

The day I called her for an interview, she said she was packing to go back to Fairbanks. She was finishing up her clinicals when she had gotten into it with one of her advisers. The lady at the hospital told me not to hire her because she was hateful, but I needed someone to help our nurse. Not taking the woman’s advice, I interviewed her, and we hit it off instantly. We were glad to have her then, and we were gladder to have her that first night in Barrow.

We had just crossed over Stevenson Street and were making our way southeast to Momeganna Street. That would take us to the Wiley Post-Will Rogers Airport. Miley’s office complex was about a mile to the east from there. We were already several blocks into the city by this point, and we still hadn’t come across anything that would ease the fears that something ominous and strange was happening. It was going to be a long, weird walk to Miley’s.

“Must be about midday,” Tish said.

I hadn’t noticed until that moment it had gotten a little brighter outside. Twilight isn’t just a movie about douchey, brooding teenage vampires. It’s also a time in the arctic winter (around noontime or a bit earlier) when the sun is oriented just below the horizon, but high enough to provide enough light to keep everything from being drenched in complete darkness. Depending on the time of year, it might last two or three hours. The extra light it brought was welcomed indeed.

“At least we know about what time it is. That’s something,” I said.

Titouan sighed. “Does it really matter?”

“To us it does.”

“I guess.”

“We’ll just haft ta make the best of things, fellers,” Sam said as he hurried to catch up with Tish.

Shaking his head, Titouan asked, “What’s he got to be positive about?”

“The converse could be said about you,” I said, smirking.

“Something is wrong with him if he can be happy during this,” he said.

“The difference between you and Sam is he’s not trying to bring people down. He’s trying to help. You could learn a thing or two from him. Hell, we both could,” I said.

He exhaled loudly and slowed his pace, so I would walk ahead of him.

I couldn’t shake the feeling that we were being watched. During the entirety of that period there weren’t any noises or obvious indications that would warrant a normal person like I supposedly was to call for a full-on red alert, but I had a deeply visceral feeling of a looming threat lurking in the darkness. Obviously, with the hunt for Titouan’s ghost episode not that far behind me, I didn’t want to be fat-dude who cried wolf. Even when I finally heard real evidence that justified my fears, I was hesitant to act.

I slowed down. Avery synchronized his pace with mine but was seemingly oblivious as to why I had slowed. I gave him a quick look, hoping he had heard it, too. His eyes remained forward. He was there but we were obviously focused on different things, not to mention him not hearing what I thought I had. We walked further, my head on a swivel, watching every alleyway and nook and cranny we passed. I saw nothing.

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