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Nightfall
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His idea of a ‘few things’ was his revolver, handful of bullets, and that picture frame I found earlier which he stuffed into a fanny pack. I hopped into the car, waiting as Bobbie was saying goodbye to his restaurant. I was able to fill it up with an extra gas canister I brought. The GPS told us we were in some place called “Ramey”. Where was that? No idea. Somewhere in the crack of Idaho. All I knew was that we were an hour-ish away from Boise.

Everyone finally got in after what felt like hours. I started up the car, it roaring to life. The GPS was lagging behind as usual, but I guess I had to make it work. Next stop: Boise. Nearly an hour or so away.

It didn’t take too long to get to the edge of town. The yellowish-orange sun was now peeking over the horizon, shining across the now-forgotten town. Looking away from the blinding sun, I focused on the road ahead of me. I tried turning on the radio, flipping through all the static channels. After a few seconds of dial-turning, some slow-paced classical music was able to play.

“Jan Dismas Zelenka,” Bobbie said, “hadn’t heard any of his music in a while.

“Who?” Cleo and I asked in unison.

“He was a Baroque-era composer. Born in Louňovice pod Blaníkem, Czechia in 1679, his father was a schoolmaster and a composer. He received his training in music at the Jesuit college of Clementinum in Prague...”

He kept going on about this guy. I couldn’t care less about some Czechian guy from 400 years ago, but Bobbie’s drowning voice somehow managed to flood my mind no matter how many times I tried blocking him out. I tried nodding my head, giving a half-baked “uh-huh…” as he went on and on about this guy. Giving the wheel a death grip, my eyes shot on the narrow uneven road ahead of me all while hoping that this suffering would end soon.

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“...after a life of composing music, he died in 1745 in Dresden, Germany.”

Fifteen minutes. Fifteen minutes. How someone can talk about a composer for that long, I have no idea. I don’t even know how he knew all of that. All I know is that I never want to go through a dreadful experience like that ever again. I rested my head on the headrest, trying my best to mask my annoyance. Taking a look out the window, the sun was now shining over acres upon acres of farmland. Grass and moss now peeked out of cracks in the road ahead of us, spreading over the small handful of wrecked tractors that were thrown on its side. 45 minutes till we reach Boise.

“Hey, stop here,” Bobbie demanded, “gotta take a leak. My bladder was killing me for days; would check it out but I don’t think that’s a possibility nowadays,” he said with a chuckle, “And my legs are killing me too, guess that’s the price an old man has to pay -”

I stopped listening from there. I slowed down the car to a halt, turning the ignition off. “Might as well stretch out legs,” I said, interrupting whatever he was saying.

I got out pretty much instantly, excited to stop driving. My still damaged leg burst in pain and shot up to my waist. I silently groaned in pain, holding onto my leg as I led against the hood of the car.

“You alright?” It was Cleo, walking over to me.

“Yeah, got scratched up pretty hard a few days ago. The night before we meet.”

“Oh? How?”

“You wouldn't believe me if I told you.”

“I’ve seen nigh-invincible monsters tear through solid metal and concrete. Hit me with all you got,” she said, playfully punching me in the arm.

“Well, the night before we met, I had a run-in with those things. Lots of them.”

“No way.” she butted in.

“See? I knew you wouldn’t believe me.”

“No no, I do. Where were you at?”

“Anyways, so I - the genius I am - managed to find myself outside. At night…”

I recounted the story of what happened that night. A look of shock swept across her face as I recounted every single detail. All while speaking, Bobbie was still somehow taking a giant old man leak a little ways away in the grass.

“Well, I’ll be…” Cleo said under her breath, crossing her arms. “Can’t believe you survived.”

“Me neither,” I sighed.

We leaned against the side of the car in silence; the only sound emanating being the strained grunts of Bobbie, who was stretching his legs in the back.

“Mind if I ask you a question?” I blurted out.

“Go ahead,” she replied.

“That ring of yours. Were you married?”

“Fiancé, actually. We were to, but…” she shook her head. “I don’t like talking about it.”

I nodded, dropping the subject.

“We should get moving before we lose too much daylight!” Bobbie called out.

“Let’s get going,” I said.

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The next 45 minutes were pretty much a blur. I made sure to not turn on the radio again to avoid another rant. The fuel gauge showed that I was running pretty low on gas. Luckily, we were just arriving in the city.

“Be on the lookout for raiders,” I said, “no idea what’s hiding out here.”

I slowed down.

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

“To think this place used to be the home of hundreds of thousands of people,” Bobbie added. “Been here a few times in my past. Always filled with people. And then suddenly, no one.”

“No people, maybe, but there is always something else in the shadows,” I replied. “Those things live in the dark. And when it’s day, they find whatever dark recesses they can hide in.”

I spotted a gas station sitting nearby. Just my luck, too - the fuel gauge showed the tank was nearly empty. I slowly pulled in, parking next to one of the pumps.

“I’m gonna search inside,” Cleo said, “see if I can find anything of use.”

I nodded, stepping outside. “Hey Boobie, mind getting the canisters from out the back?”

“Sure thing.”

He went over to the back, grabbing them, and walked towards me. I stepped forward, grabbing them. But as I did, my bad leg buckled, causing me to nearly trip over. I caught myself quickly and pulled myself up.

“You alright?” he asked.

“My leg got scratched up badly a few days ago. I still feel some shots of pain every once in a while.

I put the nozzles to canisters, pumping out the pungent gasoline.

“Mind if I see?”

“Why? Are you a doctor or something?” I jokingly asked while still filling up the canisters.

“Combat medic, back in ‘Nam. Had my fair share of treating injuries.”

I set the canisters on the ground. “Fine then,” I said, lifting my left pant leg to my lower thigh where I scratched. Bobbie kneeled, grunting something to himself as he looked over my sock-bandage. “You made this… Thing?” he asked.

“Yeah…” I squirmed out.

“How much duct tape did you use…?”

Though I couldn’t see him from how I was standing, I could feel his disapproval. He let out a sigh and said, “Take it off, please.”

I carefully tore off the clumps of duck tape, throwing off the now blood-covered sock and revealing the claw marks to him.

“Good God,” he muttered. “What did this to you?”

“One of those things did.”

He chuckled, “Good one. But no really, I need to know. It doesn’t look infected but-”

“I’m telling the truth,” I interrupted with a serious tone.

I felt his eyesight gleam up to me. “You… You aren’t lying?”

“Nope.”

“So what you mean to tell me is that you were chased by a-”

“Not one. A lot.”

“I’m sorry?”

“You heard me,” I said matter-of-factly.

“And what were you doing outside at night?”

“Long story.” I shot back. “Hey, is my leg alright or does it need to be chopped off?”

“Doesn’t look infected. And at least you managed to find a way to not lose too much blood. But it needs to be cleaned. And the wound needs a new bandage. An actual bandage. Not a sock and a handful of tape.”

I looked over to the gas station shop Cleo entered. “Maybe there’s something in there,” I said.

“I’ll head in and check,” Bobbie responded.

I nodded, going back to filling up the car. As I waited, I looked across the road. A part of me always wondered what those monsters did during the day. They’re nocturnal. So do they sleep? Can they even sleep? Or do they just sit, waiting, gnawing hungrily at whatever they get their claws on?

When I knew I poured enough, I put the nozzle back into the pump. I walked to the back of the car to close the fuel door. But as I did, I saw the lantern lying haphazardly on the car floor. I opened the door, picking up the lantern and delicately laying it back on the seat. I smiled to myself, remember when I first got this guy.

“Looks like the place was ransacked.”

I jumped, turning around to Cleo. “You’re gonna give me a heart attack, you know that?”

She nearly stepped on the bloody sock which I threw to the ground. She looked down, grimacing and stepping back.

“Also,” she continued, “Bobbie said something about looking for a pharmacy. Didn’t say why - wish he did, though.”

“Which way’d he go?” I asked.

“Follow me.”

I followed her down the sidewalk, walking behind her.

“Out of all the people in the world, why help us?” Cleo asked.

“Huh?”

“Out of all the people in the world, why drive two random people across the country? Oregon to Pennsylvania isn’t an easy drive.”

I stayed silent, then said “Well… I guess you and Bobbie are the first few people - well, not just people but anything really - that hasn’t either tried to kill or run away from me on sight. Well, Bobbie did point a gun at me but that’s beside the point. I - I don’t really know… It’s just good to see other actual people after three months of destruction.”

“And your nephews you mentioned earlier? They doing alright?”

I shook my head, “Long story.”

After some silence, we arrived at a small pharmacy. What once was the windows were now broken and replaced with large pieces of cardboard (which were hanging on for dear life). I opened the door to be greeted by 3 rats running outside. I heard rustling in the back left corner of the shop. From that corner, I saw Bobbie stand up.

“I managed to find some stuff!” he called out, walking towards us. “Not sure how long this has been lying around, but it should make do.”

He came up to us, revealing some bandages, gauze, and rubbing alcohol in his arms. He handed them to me one by one as I sat down, pulling my pant leg up. Bobbie got down too, helping. Wincing in pain as the alcohol made contact with the wound, the bandage was wrapped around tightly.

As he finished, he dusted his hands and asked, “Last time I was here, there was a mall nearby. Maybe there’s something there of use. Wanna go there?”

The both of us nodded in agreement. He reached his hand out to me. I grabbed it, standing up. We stepped out of the pharmacy.

“Should be over in that general direction,” he said, waving his hand to his left. He then turned to his right and murmured, “Or is it that way… Eh, nevermind.”