The Darkest Days (Death & Decay Book 0.5) by R. L. Blalock Page B

forward,
spun the small child around, and scooped him up in his arms. Ben
screamed and thrashed as he attempted to twist around to face his
father. Wyatt’s strong arms could barely contain the boy.
    A scene from the police station sprung unbidden
into Wyatt’s mind. The woman who sat on the floor, her arms wrapped
around the small, deranged girl as she begged for the child’s life.
Just before the girl ripped her throat out. She is just a
child!
    Wyatt squeezed the boy tighter. “I love you,
Ben.” Wyatt nuzzled the back of the boy’s head. “Daddy loves
you.”
    After one final, tight squeeze Wyatt released
him, taking a step back as he did. As Ben stumbled to regain his
footing, Wyatt drew his gun with hands that trembled violently. A
growl rumbled in the small child’s throat as he finally balanced
himself.
    Before Ben could spin around, Wyatt leveled the
gun and pulled the trigger. For a moment, Ben stood still. Then
suddenly, as though invisible strings had been cut, he crumpled to
the floor.
    Wyatt leaned back against the wall, his legs no
longer capable of keeping him upright, and slid down until he found
himself resting on the floor. His eyes remained fixed on the small
body that lay next to his feet.
    He couldn’t look away from the tiny hand
extended across the soft, tan carpeting. Those tiny fingers that
had wrapped themselves around his own when Ben wanted him to see
something. Those tiny fingers that had created so many messes.
Those tiny fingers that would reach out to gently stroke his cheek.
Those tiny fingers that would never do anything again.
    His head fell to rest on his knees as sobs
racked his body.

Day 5
6:55 pm
    Eventually the tears refused to come and the
sobs ceased. He had not wanted them to stop, but they simply
refused to continue. Instead, he lay curled up on the floor as he
desperately tried to keep reality at bay.
    Suddenly, he was struck by an intense and
shameful realization. Wyatt leapt to his feet and strode over to
where Sarah lay motionless on the floor. He tenderly picked up her
limp body and carried her to their room.
    Delicately, he laid her down of the bed. From
the bathroom, he retrieved a damp washcloth. As he sat down on the
bed, he looked over Sarah’s still form. Blood coated her shoulder,
face, and hands. Her features were almost unrecognizable underneath
the layer of gore.
    With patience and care, he set to work and
removed what he could of the carnage. Her shirt was torn and
bloodied. He could do nothing about the raw, open wound in her
shoulder that ran deep enough to expose the bones underneath the
skin and muscle. As one final touch, he rolled Sarah on her side
and extended her arms out in front of her.
    Satisfied that he had done what little he could,
Wyatt returned to the hall. He bent down and scooped Ben up in his
arms as he had done so many times in the past. For a moment, as
Wyatt hugged the small body close, he allowed himself to pretend
the boy was simply asleep and he was putting him to bed.
    Wyatt reentered the bedroom and placed Ben in
the circle that Sarah’s arms created. With the washcloth in hand
once again, he lightly cleaned the blood from Ben.
    When there was nothing more that he could do, he
sat and stared at the peaceful scene he had created. A mother
lovingly embracing her son. Forever.
    Tears slipped down his cheeks again, a split
second’s warning before the sobs took him over once again. Careful,
so as not to disturb their peace, Wyatt lay down beside them and
wrapped his arms around his family.
    Eventually, he fell asleep. Only for a short
time. When he awoke, as the haze of sleep still muddled his mind,
he had reached out across the bed and expected to find Sarah
burrowed deep in the blankets. It wasn’t until his fingers caressed
her waxy skin that the memory of the last few days, the last few
hours, flooded back.
    The world that had been presented to him at the
station seemed like a beautiful dream compared to the waking
nightmare