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

The window gave way in the bedroom. The sound of shards of glass falling to the floor and further shattering on impact resonated loudly in the small house. The old floor boards groaned under the weight of heavy feet. Headbanger was in the bedroom. It wasn’t just him, though. There was another crash from one of the other bedrooms, followed by the thuds of bodies hitting the floor. The house was filling with the bastards.

In a primal wail I barely recognized as my own, I called out to Tom. As if his head was suddenly uncoiled, he violently turned to face me. In the dim light, I saw his eyes, changed and inhuman. He tilted his head slightly to the side and sniffed. His head jerked towards the kitchen before facing me once more. He seemed out of control of his own body. His eyes seemed to remain focused on me, but his head, as a vehicle, wanted to take him somewhere else: towards the kitchen. He never looked back at me.

“Dear Jesus,” Sam said.

My mind raced in an infinite loop of uncertainty. Nothing made sense. Tom’s eyes weren’t supposed to look like that. The eyes I knew were full of life. The ones I saw then were alien. A loud noise broke my trance.

The front door gave way and more bodies filled the house. Without a weapon, I was powerless to stop the mass of bodies flooding through the living room. The slow, unsure footsteps coming from the bedroom became fast and deliberate as the crazed man ran past, knocking me hard to the ground in the process. The side of my face bore most of the impact. I momentarily lost consciousness. The last thing I saw before blacking out was headbanger guy running past.

I wearily maneuvered myself to a seated position. I blinked and squinted, trying feebly to see in the low-light condition of the living room. I reached for the switch on my headlamp, but my fine motor movements seemed to have been affected by my brain smashing into my skull as my face pounded the floor. I flicked my fingers and flexed my hand before trying again. Success, I could see again.

I scanned the room. Avery remained in the chair in front of the window. He was frozen in fear but had all his pieces. Tish had apparently been knocked down in the carnage as well, and Sam was at her side making sure she was okay. Everyone was accounted for except Titouan. I flicked my head around the room wildly, looking for him. He was just a few feet away from me. Like a statue frozen in time, he stood locked in a trance, as he watched the events taking place in the kitchen.

In the mad press of things, my mind began racing, trying to neutralize the information my senses fed it, but my mind finally relented. The information it was getting was correct. The grotesque sounds assaulted my ears. The monsters, the Grays, were eating the woman in the kitchen. Her muffled screams bore that fact. And if they were eating her, they would also eat us, if we gave them the opportunity.

I looked at Sam and said, “We have to get the hell out of here.”

Sam took a couple quick steps towards the door before stopping. “What ‘bout Tom?” he asked.

“Sam, we have to go,” I said.

Avery whimpered something as he peered into the kitchen. Without being prompted, he began to help me hastily gather our belongings.

“Sam,” I said, as I tossed my backpack over my shoulder. “Grab your shit, now.”

He blinked, shook his head, growled, and began scooping up some of his and Tish’s things before moving towards the exit, Tish in tow, Avery was on his heels, things falling out of his haphazardly packed bag, as he stumbled his way outside.

I gathered what I could and began my own retreat when it occurred to me Titouan hadn’t moved. I ran to his side. His gaze was locked on the goings on in the kitchen. I cast my headlamp towards the source of his morbid fixation. Hearing it was bad enough.

“Titouan,” I whispered. “Let’s go.”

There was a marked decrease in noise level after I shined my light into the kitchen. I called to him again. Nothing. A fight broke out in the kitchen. One of the rooted-out Grays turned his blood-soaked face towards us. Words weren’t working. I grabbed his arm and dragged him through the house.

Sam stopped me at the road. “What ‘bout Tom?”

“Let’s go, Sam.”

“We gonna just leave him.”

“Yes. Now hurry.” I was in the middle of the road by this point and headed towards the airport.

“We can’t leave Tom, dammit,” Sam insisted.

I ushered Titouan and Avery along, while I walked towards where Sam stubbornly stood. “We can talk about this when we get the hell away from here,” I said. “It isn’t safe out here.”

Sam glanced towards Tish, sighed, and begrudgingly heeded my warning.

We ran south on Momeganna Street until we made a left on Ahkovak Street. By the time we reached Wiley Post-Will Roger’s Airport, I was too winded to run any longer. I was spent. The labored breaths coming from my friends told me I wasn’t the only one.

“What now?” I huffed, having a hell of a time catching my breath.

“What the hell did we just do, leavin Tom like that?” Sam asked, pacing in front of me.

“Lived. That’s what we did,” I said.

“Tom was sick, ya sonofabitch. You just don’t leave your friends ‘ike ‘at.”

“Fucking hell,” Titouan shouted.

I walked quickly to where Titouan stood. I shook my head, letting him know he should keep his damn thoughts to himself. Like almost every other time, he didn’t care to listen to me.

“You saw it and I know damn well you heard what the fuck was happening in that kitchen. Don’t pretend you didn’t dammit,” Titouan yelled.

“Dammit, Titouan…”

Several shots rang out. They seemed to be coming from the general direction of Barrow High School, which