Available Darkness Season 1

shook as if the sheer force of unreasonable speed might shred it to ribbons. While the van was deceptively well-built and maintained, it was never meant for such ridiculous velocity. There was only so hard Larry could push it before something would give.
    Fortunately, they hadn’t strayed too far from the motel and were now only a few minutes away.
    Larry hoped that would be enough time.

    * * * *

    John

    The doors in the next room burst open in a riot of sound, smoke, and light, which John sensed though he couldn’t yet see. John tried to suss out the noises and his senses, to get an idea of how many of the men were still outside the motel if he could somehow slip out before the other men found him. At least six, he figured. One man in a straight jacket against six soldiers. They weren’t good odds, but it was as good as they were gonna get.
    John took a few steps back from the front doorway of his motel room, then stumbled forward, slamming his left shoulder into the doorway in hopes of launching it open and running into the night.
    Instead, he fell to a painful heap on the floor. Only then did he realize that the door opened inward, not out.
    “Fuck!” he cried out, on the ground, writhing in pain.
    The door separating the rooms burst open and smoke began to pour inside, choking John and burning his eyes as though they were rinsed in fire.
    The sound of boots echoed around him. He knew he was surrounded, though he couldn’t open his eyes to verify.
    Two gloved hands yanked him from behind and pulled him up by the back of the jacket. Something sharp poked his head — a gun barrel.
    “Walk,” a voice, muffled by a mask, barked in his ear.
    John obeyed, not that he had a choice. He was aching and hungry, and still couldn’t focus on a single clear thought. His instincts prodded him like a million tiny needles — directives to run, jump, bite, and even fly.
    Can I fly?
    If so, he didn’t have any clue how he’d go about it, much less escape before the men shot him down.
    Run, run, run, run!
    The whispered counsel from his inner voice was rising to a scream, but he still couldn’t harness his thoughts long enough to formulate a plan. It took all his focused energy just to stay upright and stop himself from melting into a puddle of impotence. Hunger twisted in his gut and he could feel the warmth of the bodies around him, practically inviting him to feed on them. Even if he could break free of his restraints, the gunmen would never give him a chance, though. They’d come wearing gloves, and marched him out from behind, keeping a gun to his head the entire time. Somehow, John felt like they knew exactly how to neutralize whatever threat he posed.
    As they shoved him out into the night, and he saw the vans in the parking lot, he knew instantly that these were the people who’d taken Abigail. They were working for the bald man from his past.

    * * * *

    Abigail

    Larry killed the lights as he coasted into the parking lot across the street from the motel. He watched as the men marched John out at gunpoint.
    “Do something!” Abigail cried.
    “Get out of the van,” Larry commanded.
    “No, I want to…”
    Larry turned back to her and yelled, his face twisted in anger, “Get out!”
    She looked him in the eyes. He was dead serious. Whatever he was going to do, he was trying to protect her. She climbed past him, into the front seat, and opened her door.
    “Run like hell, and if anyone tries to stop you, shoot them in the head,” Larry said. “Remember, turn your safety off.”
    “Okay,” she said, nodding her head and jumping down to the ground.
    Larry gunned the engine and raced towards the motel.

    * * * *

    Brock

    Brock’s unit led John into the parking lot of the motel.
    John was much weaker looking than Brock would have guessed for a man who had caused so much havoc in the past 48 hours. He approached John, keeping a safe distance, despite the restraint jacket.
    “It’s okay, John. We’re going to take you home,” he said calmly.
    A roar of an engine erupted behind them. Brock spun back as a van careened straight at them. His men drew their weapons and fired at the approaching threat.

    * * * *

    Larry

    “Yee-haw, motherfuckers!” Larry screamed out, surprised by his own giddiness, and laughing as the van barreled forward.
    Bullets pierced the window and ripped into the chair where Abigail had been, but missed Larry entirely. With just a few yards to go, he turned the wheel left,