Before the Darkness (Refuge Inc.) (18 page)

and walk all the way back up the freeway lanes

to where the minivan was parked. The ramps at

both ends of the bridge had what looked like a

ifteen foot wall running along the sides of the

ramp, preventing him from making a swift trip

out of it.

He shined the light over the center

median and across to the other three lanes of

the bridge to a car that was nestled in a broken

part of the exterior wall toward the end of the

bridge near the ramp. The car must have hit the

wall at an unbelievably high speed because a

ive foot gash in the concrete trailed behind the

wrecked car. The crash had broken a huge

chunk of concrete from the wall completely, and

the car nestled slightly over the edge.

Adam quickly made his way over the

center median to the other side of the bridge.

Once at the gash in the wall, he noticed thick

metal support rods sticking out from the broken

concrete like one inch thick claws on the hand of

a giant robotic beast. He peered over the side

and realized he was closer to the gravel covered

slope underneath the bridge. Climbing down

would be much quicker and easier than going all

the way around. He shined the light down onto

the slope of dirt and pebbles the city used to

landscape the sides of the freeways and ramps.

He determined it was about a twelve to fourteen

foot jump. He could either jump down and get to

the minivan in less than ive minutes, or waste

another hour climbing over walls, maneuvering

around cars and walking through junk just to

get to the same place.

He warily made his way around the

mangled car that rested between the car and

what was left of the broken wall. The smell of

burnt oil hit his nostrils. At closer examination it

occurred to him the whole car had been on ire.

The interior of the car excluded a body which

he'd expected to see, but was blackened and

charred, smelling of burnt leather. The side and

front of the car must have hit the exterior wall

because it had smashed and dented in the metal

like an old and used soda can. One of the rear

tires hung over the broken wall and some of the

strengthening rods were somehow coiled

around the rear bumper, holding the car irmly

in place as it leaned slightly over the edge of the

bridge.

Adam secured his pack on his back and

slid the glowing lashlight into the mesh pocket

on the side. Light illuminated from the lashlight

right below his armpit. It was enough to light a

few feet of space around him and help him see

as he climbed down. He scaled the wall with one

hefty jump, sat on top and swung his legs over.

The thought of jumping from that height was

unnerving. Maybe if he lowered himself down

near the broken edge of the wall and hung over

the side his feet would be closer to the slope

and would close the gap between him and the

slope by about six to eight feet.

Slowly, he climbed down between the

burnt car and the broken wall. He felt some of

the steel rods prod his hip as he squeezed

through the hole. Even in the poor light, he

igured all he had to do was back out of the

space and grab onto the ledge to climb to the

lower part of the broken wall. But before he did

anything else, he nudged the car with his foot

just to be sure. If it weren't secure it would have

budged. It didn't.

Content, he stuck his bottom out over the

edge of the bridge and simultaneously grabbed

on to the lower ledge. Instantly, his feet gave

way and he found himself dangling over the side

of the freeway overpass. It had been his intent

to do just that but as he hung there, legs lailing

like a ragdoll in the wind, he began to have

second thoughts.

He looked down at the street below him.

It was dif icult to make out how far the jump

was since the lashlight in his pack lit up his

body better than it did anything else, blinding

his view of the world beneath him.

His ingers ached and he realized he had

to jump soon or gravity would pull him down in

a nasty fall when he least expected. Knowing this

he still didn't feel comfortable letting go. That

spot directly beneath him seemed too far for

him to jump and land safely. He reached out to

his right, feeling for a secure place along the

ledge to grab onto. The more he slid to the right,

the farther from the car he'd be and the closer

he'd be to the slope beneath him, further

lessening the gap between him and the ground.

He reached, grabbing a piece of the

concrete wall. Con ident, he prepared to let go

with his other hand in order to slide over again,

but the concrete gave way in his hand. Dangling

off the side of the bridge with one hand, he

almost yelled out for help but remembered he

was alone. He reached up and grabbed the ledge

again and with both hands he tried desperately

to climb back up onto the bridge where he knew

he would be safe. He made a note to scold

himself for making a senseless decision once he

climbed to safety, but at the moment he needed

to focus on the climb.

As he reached up with one hand, blindly

pulling at a support rod to hoist himself up, he

thought how stupid he had been to ever think

jumping off of a bridge was a good idea. In his

panic and haste, he grabbed the rod with his

other hand as well.

The rod must have been weakened,

damaged, or just a sorry excuse for support,

because it bent with his weight.

It could have been merely seconds but

time seemed to move slowly. Adam felt the rod

curve in his grip and heat up his palm as it

gradually gave way. Glimpses of Elliot and Jena

popped into mind. His body felt weightless, but

time moved so slowly he was able to sort out his

thoughts and realize the sensation was nothing

other than free fall.

He hit the ground with a loud thud. He

landed on his back yet he was still moving, no,

sliding. His backpack had absorbed most of the

impact but the impact still knocked the wind out

of him. And as he slowly slid down the gravel

covered slope he tried to catch his breath,

realizing he probably underestimated the height

of the drop.

Finally, the sliding stopped and he came

to rest atop sharp chunks of gravel. Breathing

returned along with a painful burning in his

chest. His ears popped, but instead of ringing he

heard a loud whining or … a creaking. He

quickly removed his pack and grabbed the

lashlight. Pointing the light up toward the

sound, he realized where the noise was coming

from but it was already too late. The car directly

above him—the car with the blackened and

charred interior, the car with the rear tire that

hung over the bridge, the car in which the

robotic beast-like claws held onto its bumper

securely—was in a free fall of its own, moving

closer and closer.

10: Now or Never

Elliot couldn't pinpoint what had gotten

into him to cause him to go ballistic and hurt

Adam. All he could think about was getting

Adam back to where it was safe, the hospital.

Refuge Inc. was not a guarantee.

He thought himself lucky to have found

an extra lashlight in one of the drawers in the

hospital room. He was looking for more pain

killers—Adam had forgot to throw him some of

those when he unloaded the granola bars on

him—instead of pain pills he found a lashlight.

It was smaller than the one Adam carried but it

got the job done. Finding the lashlight had been

the push he needed to go back out into the

darkness and find his friend.

The last few hours of walking felt like

days to him and probably Titan too. He made

sure to walk south, back in the direction where

they came. Adam had mentioned seeing a spray

painted sign on their way to the hospital. Instead

of looking for that particular sign, he'd just go

back to the last sign they'd seen on the freeway

bridge. It made sense so that was the plan.

But already he had been walking for

hours and hadn't seen one sign or the freeway.

He had questioned himself earlier but now he

really needed to think about it; was he going the

wrong way?

It was possible that he started out in the

right direction and accidentally made a detour

somewhere along the way. The dif iculty was

determining what way he was walking without

the assistance of a compass or landmarks. He

had been following the smaller streets but some

of the streets twisted and turned and others led

to dead ends, leaving him cutting across house

lawns and building lots.

He looked down to Titan. "Where are we

going?"

Titan let out a soft bark in response,

wagging his tapered tail.

Elliot looked around him, trying to get his

bearings. Large pieces of dust that sometimes

resembled ash or a mixture of the two fell down

over him. The wound on his leg ached.

He continued his slow but determined

trek. Titan followed alongside him.

"You make a good sidekick, Titan." He

chuckled. "I wonder why I never got a dog

instead of a boyfriend. Talk about being loyal. At

least you won't ever leave me, huh?"

Titan shook his body, shaking off a layer

of dirt and picked up the pace.

"Maybe I spoke too soon." Elliot hastened

his steps to keep up. "Or maybe my problem is

putting my heart out there for other people to

crush it so easily. Maybe I love too easily, too

hard and that's why I get hurt so bad."

He swept the light toward the side of the

deserted road where a square metal sign

announced: I-10 Ahead.

Not only was I-10 a landmark, allowing

him to get his bearings, it was the freeway he

was looking for. Now inding the overpass with

the R painted on it would be that much easier.

"If I didn't love so damn hard I wouldn't

have someone to risk my life for," he said, with a

skip in his step.

****

walked into the room wearing her Hello Kitty

maternity pajamas—a matching black polyester

pant set with the face of the dotted eyed cat

stamped all over it. The shirt hit mid-thigh in the

front and higher up on her bottom in the back.

She glanced at him and rolled her eyes,

pulling her hair up into a messy bun. "It's because

there's more fabric in the front to accommodate a

growing belly. And to get a growing belly—or to

make getting pregnant easier at least—I'm gonna

wear maternity clothes any chance I get." She

giggled.

Her crazy superstitions and her giggle

always made Adam laugh, but this time he didn't.

This time he wanted to vomit. He could feel the

unpleasant churning in his stomach.

She sat down beside him on the bed and

took the laptop from his lap to place it on her

own. "You ready to be a daddy?"

His head hurt just thinking of what that

question entailed. A baby, a wife, a lie he'd be living

for the remainder of his life. The headache was

almost enough to get his troubled mind off of the

laptop.

And then she lifted the screen.

"Jena,

wait!" His head throbbed, his

stomach turned, and sweat moistened his palms.

"Jena!" He struggled to breathe. "Jena, I'm sorry."

His chest, his ribs, his arm ached.

He opened his eyes to blackness and a

sudden intense pain in his right arm and along

his right side. Turning his head slightly, he could

see the roof of the charred car as it rested on its