Darker Elements - Jesse Wilson

Darker Elements by Jesse Wilson

Book excerpt

Everything has an expiration date.

The milk in the fridge, the person you like. The planet you live on. William closed the fridge door. The expired milk in the plastic jug reminded him of all these things and more.

“Waste of money,” he said and poured the rancid stuff down the sink, turning the water on to wash it down. It was three in the morning and the glow of the streetlights lit the place up well enough so there was no need to turn on the light. He tossed the jug into the trash without thinking and moved back to the fridge to see what else there was.

An old can of beer was there in the back and he wasn’t interested in water so he grabbed it. The thing still opened with a hiss. It was still good. The term good was relative – the smell was bad. He wasn’t even sure where this thing came from.

William walked the short distance back to the living room and sat down in his old chair. Sleep didn’t exist these days. Too many thoughts running through his mind. The television turned on with the click of the remote.

The news. Fires, mass shootings, plague, economic turmoil and riots filled the screen. William took a big drink and did his best not to gag. “For all the good we did,” he said and switched channels. Some cartoon from the late nineties was playing on a channel he never watched. It reminded him of a time when things made sense. Or they felt like they made sense, anyway.

A car drove by. The headlights illuminated the room for a second and he winced, wondering for a second about who’d be out there this time of night. He supposed it didn’t matter. Then the power went out.

“Damn it,” he said and took another drink in the dark. There was nothing he could do about it but wait. At least it wasn’t too hot in here but, with no air circulating, that was going to change. Worse was the quiet.

The silence washed over him like an oppressive wave, heavy, even. He could feel it and hated it, too. William took a deep breath, finished the beer and set the can on the cheap table beside him. He was awake and he couldn’t stay here. It was time to just go for a walk.

“You’re not going to leave me here, are you?” There was more than one reason to hate the quiet.

“Yeah, I’m leaving you here, you’re nothing but trouble,” he replied to the voice. “It’s been so many years,” it replied. “I’m stuck here in this box. I belong to you. Use me. Think of everything we could do together.”

William put a shirt on that was hanging off the back of a chair and slipped on a pair of old shoes. The shorts he had on would have to do.

“Like I said. You’re nothing but trouble. Shut up,” he replied, walked to the front door and left the apartment before it could reply.

William was hit by the night air and it woke him up. There was always something magical about the night, he couldn’t put his finger on it. He locked the door and after that, didn’t have any idea where to go next. No plans in mind, he turned left and started walking. Hopefully, by the time he got home the power would be back.

Half the streetlights were still on. It was strange to him but not worth thinking about too much. He started to walk at a slow pace. It wasn’t safe to do this but he didn’t care. There wasn’t much left to live for any more. The way he saw it, no one had much left to live for. The world was dying a long, slow death and safety wasn’t a concern to most people. Just making it to another midnight was his only plan, midnight always seemed so far away, no matter the time.

He wandered in the orange light across a parking lot and down the street with no ideas on how far he’d go before turning back. Lost in his own thoughts of misery, he heard voices behind him. It snapped him out of his thoughts, back to attention.

“Just keep walking,” he said to himself, but prepared himself for anything. Will was regretting coming out here more by the minute. Voices at three in the morning were never friendly.

“Hey old man,” a voice said and he cringed. Was he really that old? He must have looked it. “Hey you, stop,” the voice repeated and he did. Taking a deep breath, he turned around, having no idea what to expect.

A pack of teenagers who looked as if they belonged in a video game, or a different time. Weird bright-colored hair, shiny clothes. Idiots.

“What?” William asked the four of them. “How much money you got?” the one wearing the sunglasses asked. Sunglasses at night, this one was special.

“Nothing, just out for a walk. Didn’t bring my wallet,” he replied and turned out his pockets as proof. There was nowhere else to hide any money. The leader, if that’s what he was, let out a high pitched laugh. William winced at the sound.

“Old man didn’t you know about the tax? This here is our street and you owe us for being on it. This late at night, the tax doubles, see?” he said and the man child next to him pulled out a knife.

“Death and taxes, a constant problem,” William replied. “Well, I don’t have any money so what are we going to do?” he asked. The two men looked at one another. The two women grew more excited about what was coming next. William might have been old, but he didn’t get this way by being stupid.

“You pay in blood,” the leader said and drew his own knife from a sheath on his belt. The thing looked like it belonged in a game, too. Where in the world did people find stuff like this? William found himself wondering things that weren’t important. Maybe he was getting old, after all.

“Blood payments, they seem a little useless. What do you get out of that?” William asked.

“It’s not what we get, it’s the message we send, bitch,” the leader replied and with that out of the way he rushed William. It had been many years since he was in a fight with anyone, but he hadn’t forgotten how.

He shifted his left foot back and as soon as that fancy blade swung forward, it missed. He grabbed the arm, took a step forward to shift his weight, then with a quick twist brought the elbow into the knee, snapped the arm.

The kid screamed as William tossed him into the street. Then he felt a sharp pain in his other arm. The handle of the blade was sticking out, the other one just threw his knife but it hit nothing and landed on the pavement. “God damn it,” he said, ripped the blade out and threw it to return the favor. The knife landed in the right side of the teenager. William wasn’t sure if he got through that shiny jacket or not.

“What kind of freak are you?” one of the women yelled and started to run. The rest of them were doing the same. “I’m the freak now?” he asked and held his bleeding arm. “That sounds about right,” he added, cursing his luck, and started to make his way back home.