Page 12 of In The Darkness

Nick knew Clayton was the leader of the militia. Clayton Burger, a low level thief who had convinced this band of miscreants that all their lives were missing was the chance to show the man that they wouldn’t take being ignored anymore.

He hadn’t seen him since he’d been brought to the house earlier that day, but he wondered if he knew how restless his troops were becoming. Hunting zombies on TV wasn’t what these guys craved. They wanted real life conflict with the world they’d decided had turned against them.

That Ponytail wanted to make some videos of Persephone, likely with a gun held to her head just for good measure, smacked of something terrorist groups did, but in reality, that’s exactly what these guys were. They hadn’t had much success yet at being that, but it didn’t mean that wasn’t what they wanted to be.

He dreaded the moment when one or more of them would pull their heads out of their asses and figure out that sitting around some rundown house in rural Virginia wasn’t the way to get the world’s attention to your cause. When that happened, he feared they might figure out that holding a hostage is useful, but killing a hostage got you way more press.

Exactly what these assholes wanted.

“Maybe Clayton’s got other plans,” Nick suggested, unsure how Ponytail would take that idea.

But he seemed resigned to just that and shrugged. “I guess. I don’t know. All I know is that this isn’t what I wanted to do with my damn time. If we’re going to show the world what happens when you forget the most important people in society, then let’s fucking show them. We’ve got a hostage. Let’s show them what we can do to her!”

Forcing himself to nod, Nick inwardly recoiled in horror at the thought of what Ponytail and his buddies dreamed of doing to Persephone. Left to their own devices for long enough, he had no doubt they’d kill her, but he had a sick feeling that first they’d take out their resentment on her for everything they mistakenly believed society had done to them.

He couldn’t let them do that.

“So we’re just supposed to sit around twiddling our thumbs here?” he asked in a tone of phony disgust.

Ponytail nodded. “Yeah, it sucks, doesn’t it? Maybe a few of us could make a beer run. There’s got to be someplace around that has some. At least being drunk would be better than nothing. Clayton put a stop to smoking, so all we can do now is those fucking pills he lets us have.”

“Pills? What kind? Oxy?” Nick asked with an eagerness he didn’t have to force. If he was going to be dealing with that kind of shit, he needed to know right then and there.

His question made Ponytail laugh loudly and throw his head back. “I fucking wish! I would kill for Oxy right now. No, Clayton says the pills he got are better, but as far as I can tell, they’re nothing, man. They just relax you. Like that’s what I want now stuck out here in the hinterlands of wherever the hell this place is.”

Nick quietly sighed as relief washed over him. Clayton had probably just given the guys downers to keep them from spinning out of control. Considering all the energy drinks they had consumed just in the time he’d been at the house, he didn’t doubt the leader’s decision. That combined with the fact that none of them seemed very stable added up to the real possibility that without something to calm them down, they might become uncontrollable at any time.

“So, when is Clayton coming here? He doesn’t expect us to just sit around and do nothing for days on end, does he?”

Ponytail shrugged once again and answered, “Who knows? He told Drist he had something else planned for a few days from now, so I guess until then, we’re stuck here.”

Nick wondered what the leader planned to do as he mumbled, “Some revolution.”

“At least we’re moving tonight,” Ponytail said with a smile that showed off his crooked teeth. “Well, that’s what I hear anyway. I just hope we get somewhere closer to where real people live. All I’ve seen in the past week is cows eating grass and fucking farmers.”

So they planned to move to another location that night. That would mean they’d be moving Persephone too. Nick needed to get assigned to that job to make sure they didn’t hurt her.

The problem was he had no idea who actually made those decisions. The group of men didn’t act like any organization he’d ever infiltrated before. They had no leader present most of the time, and he had no clue who chose who for what job. All he knew was when he showed up Drist had told him he had to feed Persephone, but that was only because he didn’t want to do it anymore.

“So, when Clayton isn’t around, who’s the boss here?” Nick asked as Ponytail walked toward him to leave the room.

He stopped and thought for a moment before he answered, “I don’t know. I guess Drist, but that’s only because he threatens to kill anyone who pisses him off. But don’t worry. Just stay on his good side and you’ll be fine.”

How he’d be didn’t worry him so much as how Persephone would be under the control of that bastard. His need to constantly wave that damn weapon around made him unpredictable, to say the least.

But if cozying up to that madman was the way to make sure she stayed safe, then that’s what he had to do. He just hoped Ponytail was right about Drist being the one who would make the decisions.

By early afternoon,boredom or Clayton’s special pills had overtaken every guy in the house but Drist, so Nick took his chance to get friendly with him and hopefully ensure he could protect Persephone from that point on. He walked outside to find him sitting in the hot midday sun on the back steps that led from the kitchen to the large backyard he guessed went back for at least an acre or so.

As usual, the man had his gun in his hand. Before that moment, Nick hadn’t paid much attention to what kind of gun it was. That he pointed it at people all the time had been bad enough.

But now he saw Drist’s favorite accessory was a Glock .45. Nothing terribly unique or special, it would certainly do the job when he pulled the trigger.

Nick stared down at him for a moment as he stroked his fingers slowly along the barrel. Jesus, this guy had some love for that gun.

“Hey, man. What’s up? Everyone in there is crashed in the middle of the day,” he said from the top of the stairs to Drist who sat on the second to last step closest to the sidewalk.

He turned his head and looked up at Nick as he continued to run his fingers over the Glock. “Pussies. Why aren’t you in there too?”

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