free had not been attempting to beat back the bands of darkness.
It was trying to become one with them.
He fought back against both inner and outer evils as they began to overpower him. He was woefully surprised with how quickly he had abandoned the words of the stranger and he tried desperately to restore the bliss from before. But without the light, there was only the darkest night. As the darkness outside crushed him and the beast within consumed him, Adam Reinhart wept tears of defeat and submitted to them both. As he did so, a primordial creature born of the deep, blacker and more terrifying than he could have ever imagined, flapped its leathery wings and burst from every pore on every inch of his body. Adam cried out in agony and total fear as he was utterly devoured by the dragon within.
Adam Reinhart sat upright quickly, screaming in the dark as his skin bristled with a cerebral terror. As he breathed in for a second bellow, a strong hand reached from behind and seized him, cutting off his cries mid-breath. Adam struggled with the unknown man, but that struggle only lasted moments until Adam heard the other man’s voice.
“Stop, Adam; it’s Gene Smith. You’re alright. You’re safe.”
Adam’s weak muscles relaxed and he fell back, gasping for air. He raised his hands to his temples and rubbed his head gently, trying to rid his mind from the nightmare’s aftertaste.
“I dreamt…,” Adam began breathlessly. “I saw a city on fire. Everyone was dying. There was this dark—”
“That was no dream, though I wish it were.” Gene stood, hefting a lengthy carbine as he walked over to a narrow window, lifting the metal frame to survey the landscape beyond. He looked back to Adam and held a gloved finger to his lips as a waft of winter’s bite entered the room, cautioning him to remain quiet. Gene raised the rifle’s scope to his eye and peered through the opening. Adam utilized the pause to examine the room.
They were huddled in a chilly basement; three small windows were positioned near the top of the cinderblock wall next to Gene. Two rust-stained iron beams supported a long steel shaft, crisscrossed by tin ductwork and disheveled insulation. The room was dark, with only the moonlight to illuminate their concrete chamber. He glanced off to his right and for the first time noticed the two dark mounds that were sprawled across the clearing and the stranger that stared back at him silently in the dark. A few more moments of stillness passed before Gene lowered the rifle and returned to Adam’s side.
“Where are we?” Adam asked.
“About a hundred miles west of DC” Gene replied.
“Is there someone outside?”
“There is, but so long as they’re speaking French, I’m not too concerned.”
Adam’s eyes lingered on Gene, confused as more questions continued to pile high in his foggy memory.
“What do you mean French?”
“A friend of mine is out there scouting the neighborhood for supplies and threats,” Gene replied. “You’ll meet him when he gets back.”
“But how did we get here?” Adam asked as Gene knelt down next to one of the sleeping men. “Gene, how did you get here?”
Gene returned Adam’s gaze silently, the exhaustion and coldness that masked his face speaking where words did not. He approached Adam and sat down on the concrete floor quietly.
“When last I saw you, I told you I was leaving to prepare my men for war. That’s exactly what I did, just not well enough, I reckon.”
“You knew what Lukas was going to do?”
“I knew if I sat back and did nothing, we’d all be naked and unprepared when the drums of war commenced.”
“It was you,” Adam breathed. “You attacked DC?”
“Son, I tried to save DC. When I left the cabin, I gathered the allies I had and we went to work. There were only a handful of us at first, but we grew and we grew fast. As for the few of us here, that man there is Lev Ben-Aharon.” Gene motioned to a younger man with