Chronicles of the Fall- #1- Empty Night

Chapter 10: Deep Woods

"I used to come here with my family when I was little; it didn't look this creepy then," Faith mutters, staring with wide eyes out the window. The twenty foot tall wooden wall that surrounds the zoo is the first thing they see. In spite of years under the influence of the elements, the oaken walls still stand strong and dark around the perimeter of the zoo.

    "I don't remember it looking so much like- well, a prison," Laken mutters under her breath to the small red-head. Faith nods in agreement.

    "This place is going to save us," DJ says, glancing over her shoulder at the two, a stern look on her face.

    "What happens if there are already lurkers in there?" Todd calls from the back of the bus.

    "Then we clear them out, dipshit," Tripp answers, his eyes focused out the window at the large gate that signals the entrance to the zoo.

    "Are we a-all going in there?" Todd asks, his question getting caught in his throat.

    "You could stay on the bus by yourself," Lucas says, rolling his eyes.

    "You're right, I'll come," Todd says with a weak smile as an attempt to hide his fear.

    "It's almost dark, maybe we could just spend the night on the bus. We can clear the place in the morning," Hampton says, leaning forward towards DJ.

    "We didn't come all this way to sleep on these damn bus seats again," she replies, pulling the bus to a stop in front of the gates.

    "It's just one more night DJ, it'll be safer to clear it in the morning," he pleads. "I don't feel like wiping any more blood off of my bat tonight," he thinks solemnly.

    "Hampton, we are going in there, tonight," DJ says, throwing him a sharp glance through the mirror. Her eyes are filled with determination.

    "Finally, you say something I agree with," Tripp says, standing in his seat and heading up the aisle. He brushes by Hampton, who merely leans away to avoid any conflict.

    "How are we looking on ammo?" Tripp queries, kneeling down beside DJ.

    "Whatever we got from your house that you haven't already shot off," she says, a snarky tone tinging her voice. Tripp ignores her comment.

    "I say we get in, clear a building, and stay there for the night. We'll worry about the rest in the morning. No guns 'til tomorrow," he says, shoving his gun into his waistband.

    "Fine, but we take the supplies off the bus. The last thing we need is to be robbed," DJ replies; by the hardness of her voice, there is no room for argument.

    "Good talk," he says playfully, patting the back of her chair and standing up. DJ's eyes narrow and she finds that her jaw is tight; interaction with Tripp can do that to a person.

    'It's like this is all a game to him,' she thinks. She shakes her head at herself; and doesn't dwell any longer on her irritation. She feels adrenaline already leaking into her bloodstream, coaxed into motion by the action that is to come. DJ has felt the feeling, before championship soccer matches; this time, however, she could lose her life, and not just a game and a title.

    "Everyone grab a bag, and get off the bus. Keep your weapons handy, no guns. Let's get this done fast so we can all sleep easy tonight," Tripp is barking, his voice suddenly sounding like a that of a drill-sergeant's. Everyone obeys, equally afraid of the action to come and Tripp.

One by one they walk down the aisle, their shoulders weighed down with backpacks full of food, supplies, and clothes.

The silence is deafening. The wet, russet-coloured pine needles muffle the group's footsteps. Grey light, the last of its usefulness fading quickly away, suffuses the air, along with cold drops of rain that fall steadily from the blackened sky. No crickets or other animals sound their calls, for even they can feel the danger that is around them all.