The Long Dark Billy Farmer (romantic novels in english .txt) 📖

“No, we’re not going to do that,” I said.

Titouan shot me a hateful look.

“Besides the fact that those are probably Grays attacking that house, do you really want to take off running towards a bunch of men with guns?”

Titouan looked away and sighed.

Whoever held the lamp carried it to a different room in the house facing us. A dark outline of someone could be seen just outside the newly lit window. As soon as the lamp light illuminated the rear window, the dark silhouette could be seen looking in through the window from the outside.

“Somethin is ‘bout ta go down, boys,” Sam said.

“We have seen this before. They seem to be coordinating these attacks. It is hard to cover all the entrances, so they attack multiple egresses. Fascinating,” Avery said.

“Did you wipe, boy? ‘Cause, by the look on yer face back at the buildin and house, you probably pooped twice. Fascinatin, my ass,” Sam said.

Avery popped his knuckles and refused to look Sam in the face. “Their behavior is what it is. I can separate my fear from my fascination.”

“Dammit,” I said, “not now.”

“Maybe the military is clearing that house?” Titouan asked.

Straining to see details that were simply not discernible from our distance, and due to insufficient ambient light, but remaining skeptical nonetheless that what we were about to watch had anything to do with the military, I said, “I doubt that very seriously.”

Suddenly, the shadowy figure smashed the window. There was a scream and then another, followed by the cries of what I hoped wasn’t a baby. There was a spat of gunshots fired out of the window; the flashes lit the room and created a supersonic pop as they sped past, too close for comfort. Whoever tried to get into the back room got a nasty surprise, but the safety of those in the house was as tenuous as the front door was capable of holding back the gaggle of bodies punching, pressing, and kicking at it.

“There’s yer answer, Tit. Ain’t no damn military.”

I checked the rifle, making sure it had a round in the chamber. I didn’t want the same thing that happened to Sam to happen to me. “Give me any spare ammo you have in that bag, Titouan,” I told him.

“What the hell ya doin, son?”

“Didn’t you hear the baby crying? I have a gun, and I’m going to help,” I said, putting the ammo Titouan gave to me in my pocket.

“What are we supposed to do?” Titouan asked.

“Get your asses to Miley’s. Even if those aren’t Grays attacking that house, and I’m pretty sure it is, the noise will draw them in soon,” I said.

“Which is why you shouldn’t do this, William, ya damn fool,” Sam pleaded.

“After what happened to Tom… I can’t just leave them to die. I’m going to try to help,” I said.

Sam tried one last time to stop me. “Son, don’t do ‘is. You can’t go comparin ‘is with what happened ta Tom.”

“It feels awfully damn close to me,” I said.

Sam spit. “You a bull-headed sonofabitch. Get yer ass ta Miley’s soon as ya can. I mean ‘at.”

“I’ll be right behind you guys. Now go before more show up,” I scolded.

I patted Avery on the shoulder and began walking towards the house. Between my girth and lack of anything that might hide my approach, I was perfect fodder for either a bullet or something much more dreadful. I had the gun up and ready. Twenty yards into my mission, I turned and took one more look at my friends. Sam was leading them away, just as I had asked. Not happy but doing it all the same.

I turned back towards my quarry. Some things dawned on me in rapid succession. One, I had no fucking clue what I was doing. Two, I was scared out of my wits. Three, I had just sent my friends off into the unknown, for people who I had never met and who might be dead by the time I got myself into a position to help. Four, I was majorly having second thoughts.

But then there was this weird channel that opened in my mind. All it was playing was the crying baby. Thanks, conscious – screwing me again. I said, “fuck it” and picked up my pace.

I was a mess, yet coherent and rational enough to angle my approach in such a manner I hoped the Grays on the porch wouldn’t see me. The smell part I couldn’t control, so I tried not to worry about it. I was close to the broken-out window. I didn’t want to have my brains blown out, so I kept out of viewing range.

I could clearly see the forms on the porch as I peeked around the corner of the house. Now what, I thought. I had five rounds in the magazine and one in the chamber. I counted seven Grays on the porch. If I were extremely lucky, I thought I could hit three or four of them before I’d have to reload. I only had the one magazine in the rifle, which meant that I’d have to load the rounds individually into the mag. That wouldn’t work. I’d still be trying to reload when they were piled on me doing whatever it is they do.

Shit. The front door exploded. It was decision time. I didn’t have all day to weigh my options. It essentially amounted to run or gun at that point. I chose the latter.

Heavy footfalls pounded against the hard flooring inside. It sounded like at least one of them fell as they fought to get into the house, the floor creaking with every step. One of them bellowed in anger. There were curses and screaming followed by more pounding fists. Whoever was in the back room had barricaded themselves in, but for how long was anybody’s guess. If the front door was any indication, the answer was not long at all.

“Take the baby and go,” I heard a man pleading