Fall of Night (Dead of Night 2)

The wild eyes flared and for a moment it seemed as if this monstrous man would attack.

“Don’t,” murmured Sam Imura. He said it very quietly.

Charlie’s eyes flicked to him for a moment and the thick lips curled back from uneven teeth. Maybe it was a sneer, maybe it was a smile. In either case it was unpleasant and feral.

“Charlie…” Dez repeated. She lowered her gun, holding it in one hand and reaching out toward him with the other.

The mad eyes blinked.

And blinked again, and each time there was a fraction less of the frenzied look and a fraction more of sanity. Of realization of self.

Of recognition.

“D-Dez…?”

“It’s me, Charlie,” she said. “It’s okay.”

“Okay?” echoed Charlie Matthias as if that was the strangest word he’d ever heard. “Okay? Jesus Christ, Dez, what’s happening to the world? Nothing’s okay.”

He let out a breath and lowered the weapons.

Sam and his team held their ground, though.

“What happened here, Charlie? Who are these people?”

The bodies on the floor were so badly mangled that it was impossible to tell who or what they had been.

“They’re … they’re my boys.”

Dez frowned. “Your—?”

“My crew. The guys I fucking run with.” He looked around in confusion. “Rico, and Tyrone. Tony Dale and Fez Zimmio. Christ, Dez, what the fuck’s going on? We were playing cards and Rico went outside to take a piss. Then he comes in all crazy and fucked up. Comes back with a whole shitload of people I don’t know and suddenly everything went to shit. Rico … bit Fez. Bit his throat right the fuck out. Christ, Dez, he started eating him. How’s that not fucked up?”

Charlie’s voice was rising to a dangerous hysterical note, and as he ranted he began waving around his weapons. Sam shifted to stand between Dez and the big man.

“Mr. Matthias, I am going to need you to calm down. Put down your weapons and put your hands on your head. Do it now.”

Charlie stared at him with total incomprehension.

“Who the fuck are you? What’s happening? Somebody better fucking tell me what’s going on.”

“Charlie—Charlie!” yelled Dez and her voice was so loud and sharp that Charlie flinched as if he’d been slapped. “Haven’t you listened to the news? Don’t you understand what’s happening? It’s a plague. It’s spreading out of control and it makes people want to kill each other.”

“W-what?”

“Stebbins County is gone. Everyone’s dead. Everyone, Charlie, except a bunch of kids and some other folks, some adults. We have twelve school buses outside and we’re trying to get out of here. We’re heading down south, but we need supplies. I came here because I knew you’d help us. I knew I could count on you, Charlie.”

With each sentence she changed her voice from sharpness to soft appeal. It worked on Charlie, drawing him back from the edge.

“Is this real? Are you bullshitting me, Dez?”

“It’s real. We’re in trouble and we need your help.”

He looked down at the weapons he held, considered them for a moment, then let them fall. The clangs they made echoed through the building.

“Boxer, Gypsy,” said Sam, “do a sweep. Stay together and make it fast.”

They moved off, each of them throwing Charlie ugly looks.