The Long Dark by B.J. Farmer (reading women .TXT) 📕

sure, but watching him was a mirror into the past. I’m sure my eyes were that big when I first saw a Gray.

Speaking of Duane, he had said the community center, where we prepared to battle, started off being just a single room but grew in chunks as Toolik became more popular with scientists. Because of this, the building was composed of a hodgepodge of different building materials, and rooms seemed to jut out like growths along the once singular rectangular building. There was a long hallway connecting the kitchen with the new dining hall and several other rooms, most of which were still under construction.

When I asked Duane about the wonky building, he told me he was a superintendent, not an architect. And it showed. There was a silver lining to the ad hoc design: there were only two windows large enough for someone to fit through and only one entrance door in what was the largest building in Toolik. The best part was those windows were on the same wall. We only had to defend two windows and one door. If we could clog the doorways and the windows with dead Grays, we might have a chance against them overrunning us. We would then worry about the Order later.

I was in the middle of changing mags when the second window was broken out. Sam reloaded at the same time. Because of all the practice before that night, we were all decently proficient at loading and firing our weapons. However, we still needed some work on coordination. Because Sam and I weren’t firing, and because of the newly opened ingress point, the Grays were entering faster than we were picking them off.

Just as I was lining up for a shot on the three Grays charging Avery and Duane, I heard four quick blasts from my right. Avery’s shotgun inflicted terrible damage to the Grays from that distance. They fell to the floor in a bloody heap. If I had time to worry about the long-term side effects of what he had to do, I would have. Instead, I concentrated on the snarling Grays, who were about to overrun mine and Sam’s side.

With a little luck and the last five bullets in my magazine, I dispatched the two charging Grays. I heard Sam curse as he frantically worked with his jammed rifle. I dropped the empty mag and slid another in place with a metallic click. No sooner had I primed the charging handle on my M4 did the front door give way with a thundering crash. Perfect timing, I thought. I emptied one entire mag into the tangle of bodies before Sam had his weapon up and firing again. We were losing ground quickly. We were going to have to more efficiently direct our fire, or we were going to die. It was that simple.

I was yelling before I even realized it. “Duane and Avery fire through the windows. Sam, concentrate on the door. I’ll switch back and forth.” There was no time for confirmation. Everyone understood the consequences of not doing what they were told.

Initially, I thought my orders had been a difference-maker. But then things were never that simple. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Quill sit up. Shots rang out in the distance at roughly the same time. Then as quickly as it had begun, the Grays were gone. Only the remaining cries of the dying remained. Oh, and Quill.

“It’s calling to me…” Quill said, crying, “Something… I feel like… God, my head hurts so bad.”

Everyone shared long, frightened glances. Avery held Quill. Her sobs and odd behavior only enhanced the terror everyone was feeling.

It got worse.

The night came alive with gunfire. The front façade of the building was obliterated by an ineffable number of shots fired. Dust, debris, shrapnel, and bits and pieces of dead and dying Grays. As quickly as it began, the Order’s firing squad ended.

I looked towards Sam. He shook his head, his eyes wide with terror. “What the hell comes next? They gonna burn us out?” he snorted.

It had apparently crossed his mind, as well. “Jeeesus.”

I quickly turned back to Avery. He still held Quill in a tight embrace. “She going to be okay?”

“I have no way of knowing, given I do not understand what is happening to her.”

“Quill, are you okay?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” she said, still sobbing, “I don’t feel right.”

That was a fucking understatement. I told Avery to, “Pay close attention to her.”

A scowl formed across his face, Duane’s, too. “Just fucking do what I tell you, okay.”

“Chill, son. That ain’t helpin.”

I took a deep breath and waited.

The death rattle from the remaining Grays filled the void that gunfire had occupied only moments earlier. The empathy I felt for them as they lay there dying was the single connection they had left to their humanity. The last gasps of mine, entangled and entwined in theirs, faded as their life’s blood emptied from them. I was growing colder than the Alaskan night.

“Check your ammo, Boys,” Sam said.

The fact that Sam was quickly reloading spent magazines as he spoke meant he was underplaying the severity of the situation. In reality, he was saying, “Load the fuckin magazines, boys.”  Duane tossing several empties our way further pounded the point home.

As I reloaded, I told Avery to, “Check his shotgun ammo.” He gave me a curt nod in reply, but he didn’t lesson his embrace on a still sobbing Quill.

“Do you think that was all of the Grays?” I asked Sam.

He laughed manically. “Not even close – not even close, son,” he said nervously, dropping as many rounds of 5, 5-6 as he was able to load into the magazines. I’d never seen Sam that rattled.

“Shit,” I spat. “We’ve got to get out of here.”

“How the Sam Hill we gonna do ‘at?”

“There’s a way out,” Duane said. “Through the kitchen, but I don’t know if...”

“If what?” I asked.

“The door won’t open the entire way.”

Before I could feel bad