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.The only time we discussed anything more in-depth than small talk, was when we first got home from the pet store.That night, we discussed our feelings and emotions.I apologized over and over again, and Christy kept telling me that she forgave me.Thing was, I didn’t feel forgiven.Not by her, and not by myself.I could still see the fear in her eyes—a newfound distrust.I knew it well.I felt the same way about myself.I didn’t know me anymore.Didn’t like me anymore.Didn’t trust myself anymore.Despite everything, Christy stuck it out.She apologized, too—for lying about her reasons for going to the pet store, for endangering us all, and for never telling me about Brandon.She insisted once more that she’d never slept with him, that it hadn’t been like that between them, and I told her that it didn’t matter.And so we stayed, spending our days and nights together but apart.Or maybe I should say spending our nights together, since there were no fucking days.Time was just one big night.One big after dark.You know that old saying, “it’s always darkest before the dawn”? Well, it was true.Except the dawn never came.CHAPTER SEVENTEENThere was a knock on the door a few days later.When I opened it, Russ pushed past me and dashed inside.He was out of breath and appeared nervous and worried.“What’s wrong?” I asked.He held up a finger, silencing me, and glanced into the living room.“Is Christy here?”“Yeah.She’s pulling marijuana seeds out of her bag and trying to plant them in with the house plants.”“Christ.Still with the weed? Even after the cluster-fuck at the pet store?”I shrugged, then nodded.“How’s she gonna grow them? There’s no sunlight.”I shrugged again.“She thinks she can shine the flashlight on them a little bit every day.She’s desperate, you know? Somehow I don’t think our connection is gonna have any more weed for a while.In truth, I don’t even know if he’s still in town.And that Brandon douche bag is gone, too, I’d imagine.”“Seems like a waste of water.”“Yeah.But it keeps her happy.What else am I gonna do?”“I don’t know.Do what you have to do, I guess.How you guys been holding up?”“We’re okay.You?”“Surviving.This separation shit is hard.I’ve been ducking out once a day, walking the streets and seeing what I can find out.It feels good to talk to people, even just for a little while.”“What if something happens? What if they piss you off and you snap?”“Then at least they were a stranger, and not a friend, like you guys or Cranston.”“That’s true,” I agreed.“Still dangerous though, dude.”“Shit, Robbie.You have no idea.”“What do you mean?”Russ paused.He seemed to be debating whether to continue, so I prompted him.“What’s on your mind, Russ?”“I don’t know if Christy should hear this or not.Maybe we should go upstairs.”“Why? Is it bad?”“Hear what?” Christy walked into the kitchen, brushing potting soil from her hands.Sighing, Russ plopped down in a kitchen chair and folded his hands on the table.His expression grew even more troubled.I studied him closely.He didn’t look good.There were dark circles under his eyes, and the whiskers on his face were turning gray.I tried to remember if they’d been gray before the darkness arrived.I didn’t think they were.“Jesus, Russ,” Christy said.“What’s up with all the fucking drama? Who died?”“Maybe us, if we’re not careful.I just talked to Cranston.He’s been sneaking outside, too.Not as much as I have, but a little bit each day.He sticks to our block.Only talks to people he considers safe.But he’s scared and pissed off.To be honest, I’m pissed off, too, after what he told me.Apparently, T and Mario have been skulking around outside, making noise about us and how we got their friends killed.”“Who are T and Mario?” Christy asked.“Two yo-boys who went with us when we tried Robbie’s plan to breach the darkness.They lived.Their friends didn’t.And now they blame us.”“Fuck them,” I said.“And I said the same thing,” Russ agreed, “but there’s more.Cranston says they’ve got new people listening to them now.”“Who?”He shrugged.“Cranston didn’t know any of the newcomers.Just strangers.But they’re not just juvenile delinquents like T and Mario.There are other folks—older people.And they’re looking up to T like he’s some kind of leader.People are pissed off and scared and looking for someone to blame.And apparently, T’s got a few of them convinced it’s all our fault.”“How many?”“Not too many, so far.Maybe six, all told.But if it keeps up…”Christy’s eyes were wide.“You don’t think they’d kill us, do you? From what Robbie said, what happened to their friends wasn’t your fault.”“Yeah, but they don’t see it that way,” Russ said.“And we all know that the slightest seed of anger or resentment or any other negative emotion is like dynamite these days.So far, they’ve been content just to lurk out there in the shadows.Maybe they’re afraid to move against us.Bunch of little pussies—pardon my French, Christy.”Despite this new fear, she grinned.“I don’t speak French.”“But if they get some braver people urging them on,” Russ continued, “or if whatever is lurking out there in the darkness pushes them hard enough, who knows what kind of stupid shit they might try to pull?”“They don’t have guns,” I said.“Remember? The day we went out there, me, you, Drew, and Clay were the only ones who were armed.”“Yeah, but there’s all kinds of guns just lying around.Like the rifle I picked up.There are guns everywhere.How many people in this town went deer hunting every year? Christ, most places gave their employees the day off for the first day of deer season.Same thing with the high school.It was a town holiday.There are plenty of guns inside people’s houses.Plenty of ammo, too.And even if they don’t have a gun, one of their new recruits might.”“Okay.” I paused, considering.“The best offense is a good defense, right? So let’s work on our defenses.We know the fire escape is secure.It doesn’t reach all the way to the ground.So we just lock the downstairs door—make it really fucking secure.Then we reinforce Cranston’s windows—maybe put plywood over them or something.He’s got the entire first floor
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