Available Darkness Season 1

door, opened it, and disappeared into the night.
    This was all too much for young Caleb, what was he supposed to do now? He wanted to march behind his mother right into the arms of death. Adult Caleb, reliving these memories and feelings for the first time in decades, was willing to follow, to die right there in his dream.
    But he couldn’t. Instead, he would wake. But something kept him there in the dream, in his past. Something yet to see.
    A tiny voice called from upstairs, “Is he gone?”
    Both Calebs glanced up at the four year old peering back between the banisters.
    A boy so young should not see such things.
    Adult Caleb stared at the child, feeling the cold weight of reality crashing through the deceptions he’d held true for so long.
    I have a brother?
    “Go back to your room, Johnny!” Caleb shouted, tears twisting his voice into a gasp.
    Confusion, shock, and pain threatened to overwhelm him, but he couldn’t allow it. Though he were just a child himself, he had to protect Johnny.
    Family first, a brother’s duty.
    Caleb snapped awake.
    “John?”

    * * * *

CHAPTER 7 — Larry and John

    Larry

    The black van rolled along the highway beneath the bruised blush of early dawn. Larry looked in the rearview for the third time in two minutes, searching for cops, feds, or more gunmen, then stepped harder on the gas pedal.
    They were heading towards one of the many safe-houses he kept scattered throughout the region. He had no doubt that an entire team of feds was currently turning over the motel, scouring through every hair and fiber as they sorted through what was easily the biggest mass murder the area had seen. Since most of the bodies were burnt to a crisp, the murders would be tied to John, intensifying an already white-hot manhunt.
    Larry wasn’t too concerned about what was left behind. The motel and van (and even the van’s registration) were bought through an assumed name, and neither his DNA or fingerprints were in any database, so it was doubtful that he left much of a trail. While circumstances had forced Larry to abandon his surveillance equipment, which would no doubt raise a battery of questions as to who was living there and what in the raging fires of hell they were doing, he’d managed to retrieve the bank of hard drives where he kept nearly all his research. Of course, he had also grabbed the plastic totes from his van, which were essentially his portable survival kits, loaded with weapons, cash, and a few other items of contraband he didn’t dare leave behind.
    Though the motel looked like homeless people were squatting there, Larry was always organized and prepared to leave the second shit hit the fan.
    Now, the shit had hit the fan.
    His two major concerns at the moment were switching the van he was in for another, and hoping he’d eliminated enough of the bastards to prevent them from regrouping too quickly. Larry had disabled the tracking systems in the van, but he wouldn’t feel comfortable until they traded it in for new wheels. Fortunately, they were only a mile away from a chop shop where he placed an emergency order the minute they left the motel.
    Sometimes it paid to keep the right company.

    * * * *

    John

    In the darkened rear of the van, Abigail’s breath rose and fell, her body curled against John. No windows meant the heat John was feeling through the indented panels was mostly in his imagination. He was safe from the sun, and thankfully, Abigail was now safe from his parasitic touch.
    John had become so used to avoiding unintentional human contact that he flinched when Abigail had first leaned so lovingly against him. However, as she relaxed, then passed out almost immediately, he wrapped an arm around her, receiving as much comfort as he was providing. John’s sad eyes lost a tear to the top of Abigail’s head.
    Her gunshot had stitched together entirely, the skin where the bullet had torn through her flesh was no less smooth than that of her cheek. The cigarette burn from her abuser had also healed. A part of John was glad that Abigail had remained groggy, not yet lucid enough to receive an explanation of how he had managed to save her.
    Larry had grabbed two fistfuls of pillows and a pile of blankets to make their accommodations a bit more comfortable, but John was too distracted, or perhaps too scared, to close his eyes. He didn’t mind tumbling through the recent events in his mind. It was necessary to pull order from the chaos, but closing his eyes