Darkshines Seven

by Russell Mardell

  Past the Ferris wheel at the end of the old pier, she finally found a small medical kit hanging on the back of the door to an ice cream hut. The case was so old it left a bare patch on the paintwork, framed by thick lines of dirt. Half an hour later, having improvised at Sam’s wounds with gauze and bandages and some antiseptic smelling wipes that were curling up at the edges, they were sat together on the open hatchway of the hut, sheltering from the rain, a heavily panting and even more heavily smelling Irish Terrier sat between them.

  ‘Thanks,’ Sam said quietly, his left arm wrapping around Blarney, fingers running through the wiry coat. There was so much more he needed to say, but in that moment one word seemed to be enough. Neither had the energy to try and explain the unexplainable.

  ‘Thank you,’ Mia replied and playfully nudged a leg.

  They stared out over the rotten wooden barriers at the end of the pier, out towards the sea, marvelling at the light show that was now colouring the sky, keeping the encroaching dawn back, for now. Mia started counting the seconds between those skeletal arms of lightning reaching out of the clouds and swiping at the water and the angry blasts of thunder that followed.

  ‘Do you really think it’s safe at Storm Tail?’ Sam asked quietly.

  ‘I don’t think it’s safe anywhere. Why should Storm Tail be any different?’

  ‘You know what I mean.’

  And she did, all too well. She remembered the look on Tommy Bergan’s face as she stood looking up at him in the driver’s seat of the ambulance. Had she seen betrayal in his eyes? Maybe. At the very least she had seen guilt, and that was reason enough to be wary. ‘You mean is it a trap?’

  ‘Well is it?’

  Mia felt a hand absently reach for her pistol. ‘Quite possibly.’

  ‘Then you should go now then, shouldn’t you?’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘What you said…’ A rumble of thunder trampled over Sam’s words and he waited for it to pass before continuing. ‘Back in the jeep, I don’t think I dreamed it, though maybe I did…’

  ‘What?’

  ‘You’re not coming with us, are you? You’re going back to Bleeker Hill, aren’t you? If they have set a trap for you at Storm Tail, you should go now.’

  Mia was momentarily taken aback. ‘I never said that to you.’ Staring over Blarney’s head she glared at Sam accusingly, but the young boy didn’t seem to notice. Sam’s focus was out at the sea, the dark, glassy surface, and whatever possibilities lay beyond it.

  ‘I dreamed it then. Good,’ Sam said flatly, an index finger now playing under Blarney’s chin, ‘because I want you to come with us.’

  Those simple words tore at Mia’s heart and made her feel sad. Slowly she began fingering the loose frays of bandage on her right arm, letting the awkward silence sit between them, as heavy as the sky above. When she finally spoke again, the words were a whisper she could barely hear herself. Sam, however, seemed to hear them perfectly well. ‘I can’t, Sam. I can’t go with you. You’re right, I do have to go back there. I don’t expect you to understand.’

  ‘I do. I do understand.’ Blarney craned his head up and began licking Sam’s chin. ‘I just don’t like it.’ They smiled at each other wanly, as the rain began pelting the wooden roof of the hut. ‘This man, Sullivan, your friend, he must be a good guy?’

  ‘He was, yeah.’

  ‘Was?’

  ‘Is. He is a good person, and I have to know what happened to him. I have to help him if I can. I have to try and save him from that place.’

  ‘Even after everything you have said about Bleeker Hill?’

  ‘Because of everything I’ve said…’

  ‘What makes you think he’s still alive?’

  Mia had no answer for him and Sam didn’t seem to need one. He was already looking back out to sea. Behind them the seats on the Ferris wheel squeaked against hinges that needed oiling, gently rocking back and forth on an early morning wind that was slowly finding its voice. Blarney gave one small growl, and a fleeting twitch of the matted ginger beard and then bent down and grabbed the toy rabbit free of Mia’s belt.

  ‘We should probably get moving,’ Mia said, now looking out to sea herself. ‘It will be dawn soon, better we get there when we’ve still got darkness to hide behind.’

  ‘Can we wait a bit longer, do you mind?’

  ‘Sure. Of course I don’t mind.’

  When the next flash of lightning came, clawing at the sea and all too briefly lighting up that dark horizon, teasing them as to what lay beyond, Mia began counting off again.

  One, two, three…

  5

  Hector hung his head from the window of the moving campervan like a dog, letting the sea breeze whip him gently. The taste of cold vegetable soup was fresh on his tongue and the weak, warm orange squash that Abigail had offered him had done little to wash it away. To the left of the campervan the sea was eerily calm. High above, yet somehow joined to the sea, the muddy black sky crawled over the mirrored surface, lightning flashes tearing out of it, thunder rolling through it, and yet the sea remained stubbornly relaxed, refusing to reflect the rage that hung over it.

  Pulling his head back inside, Hector looked to Michael next to him in the driver’s seat. The little man in the suit was set rigid behind the wheel, his chubby hands gripping the leather. An unfurled map sat on the dashboard in front of him but he barely spared it a glance. Behind the driver’s seat Abigail was rifling through the last of their provisions and offering wrapped something’s and bottled who-knew-what to Albie and Callie, but both women declined the kindness. Albie was staring dreamily from the nearest window, and Hector knew she was looking for her boy, expecting to somehow see him strolling down the promenade, or maybe sat in a deckchair outside one of the tumbledown chalets that littered the edge of the road.

  They passed the entrance to an old pier, sped past myriad shops and ice cream stands, hotel fronts and chalets, and everything they moved past was either empty, boarded up or torn apart. Soon the sea seemed to move closer to the road, as unseen stretches of beach fell away and a rocky bluff started to rise imperiously before them. The road moved around in twisty turns as they began to slow to a crawl, moving up the cliff edge. Here houses were set all along the other side of the road; large flat buildings, eating into the cliff and other people’s view, facing out across the sea. A rich person’s paradise, now long gone.

  As the road levelled out again, the campervan moved along a narrow cliff path and the houses stopped instantly, giving to a wide grass bank that disappeared away into the night. The campervan crawled slowly on, until, less than a mile later, the coastal path bled seamlessly into a long gravel car park and Michael turned the campervan away from the cliffs, and trundled it into a space between two cars. Taking the torch from the glove compartment he peered suspiciously from the driver’s side window, and then slowly stepped out into the car park.

  Cars were parked carelessly all around them, Hector counted at least thirty, and all of them seemed to be empty and abandoned. As Hector followed the others out, joining Callie at the rear of the campervan, Albie hobbled out of the car park and onto the coastal path. The headlights of the campervan lit a pathway ahead of them that dropped off into a series of wooden steps at the top of the cliff. To the right of the steps a small painted sign was nailed to a wooden post. Michael flicked the torch on and shone the feeble beam at it. The sign simply read: WELCOME TO STORM TAIL COVE.

  6

  The back of the transit van was a tight squeeze for the three of them. Even with the back doors open onto the car park they still sat with their legs pulled up to their chests. It was cramped, hot and smelly, and with the amount of time he had been there already, Raizbeck was starting to get tetchy. Even the novelty of the night vision goggles that Porter had brought with them into City 17, had worn off. Now, staring out at the huddled group at the edge of the pathway down to Storm Tail cove, it was all Raizbeck could do to stop himself cutting them all down where the
y stood, just for the sake of something to do.

  ‘What the hell are they doing?’ Raizbeck looked at each of them in turn, strangers for the most part, and then he looked to the campervan windows, sure that he would see a face looking back at him, convinced that she would be there. That she had to be there. ‘They’re just standing there. What are they doing?’

  Fallon knew it wasn’t really a question, more that Raizbeck just needed to speak to stop himself from going spare. He also knew better than to respond when his boss was like this. He’d seen enough people fall under Raizbeck’s temper and get squashed over the years.

  Raizbeck continued, barely even pausing for breath. ‘She’s got to be here. She will be here. I know she is going to come. If she’s not with them then she’s close.’ Thumbing the walkie-talkie on his jacket he turned his mouth to the little unit like he was going to swallow it up. ‘Everett? Anything? You got anyone coming from the south?’

  ‘Nothing here, boss,’ Everett’s tinny little voice came back on the other end.

  ‘I don’t believe you. Look again.’

  ‘There’s nothing here. No cars, no people, no nothing at all. Anyone comes past me, I’m seeing them. There’s nothing.’

  ‘Porter!’ Raizbeck snapped. ‘Why aren’t they taking the path?’

  Porter’s whispered voice replaced Everett’s. ‘Not picking up much. Cats and dogs out here, Jack. Get the odd word. They seem to be arguing about what to do. Two of them want to go down, one of them wants to wait. A woman. Got the idea she is waiting for someone.’

  ‘It’s her then. It must be. They are waiting for her.’

  ‘Could be, Jack. Couldn’t say. They pass me, you want me to take them out?’

  ‘No. Not yet. If they are mad enough to go down there then let them. Got nowhere to go except the way they got in. Hold off. Someone knows where she is. They have to. If needs be we might need to start breaking fingers.’

  ‘Want me and Everett to round ‘em up now?’

  ‘No, as long as they are in sight, let them be. They turn back to the vehicle, you stop them. I want them in your sightlines at all times.’

  Raizbeck ended the conversation, pulled the night vision goggles off and rubbed at his weary eyes. The rain drummed on the roof of the van, heavy, relentless. A weak clap of thunder sounded, somewhere to the north, the storm finally passing, and at the furthest point of sight, a thin sliver of grey seemed to be pushing the darkness away from the sea, suggesting a new dawn was looking for a way through.

  Raizbeck stretched his legs out and let his boots dangle over the back of the van, the rain slowly washing the broken, worn leather, and dribbling through to his feet. Raizbeck hugged his machine gun to his chest.

  ‘She’s dead, Mr Raizbeck, I told you. I saw him kill her.’

  ‘I know what you told me.’ Raizbeck turned his head back to the other side of the van and fixed Tommy Bergan with a withering stare. ‘And I told you that I didn’t believe you.’

  ‘I saw Jacob Silence kill her. He set a trap for them outside Darkshines. I saw him kill her and the boy. She isn’t coming here, Mr Raizbeck.’

  ‘Oh Tommy, if only your father could hear you now. Lying to your Party superiors. He would be so disappointed. Yet still you persist in it. You still try and treat me like a fool.’

  ‘I am not lying, Mr Raizbeck!’

  ‘And what would you have us do with this merry band of people out there on the road? What should we do to her friends? Should we just leave them be to their foolhardy plan?’

  ‘I don’t care what you do to them. I got them here like I was told. Shoot them all and let’s go, couldn’t care less.’

  ‘Your job was to get Mia Hennessey here. I cared only for her. These people are nothing.’

  ‘I told you, Mr Raizbeck…’

  ‘Yes you told me. Dear old Jacob killed her. Yet somehow that isn’t as satisfying as I thought it would be. Doesn’t sit right with me, Tommy. What do you think, Fallon?’

  The impassive figure next to him shrugged. ‘I think that when we picked Bergan up on the road he was blubbing like a little kid. That’s what I think. No way for a Party man to behave.’

  ‘Quite so, and why was that, Tommy? Why were you blubbing when we found you?’

  ‘I wasn’t.’

  ‘Still he lies.’

  ‘I told you, I’m not…’

  Raizbeck raised an index finger to his lips, the simple gesture cutting Tommy off. ‘Let me tell you something, Tommy, something that will blow your tiny little mind. Let me tell you how I know you are lying to me.’ Raizbeck lowered the finger. ‘I saw it, Tommy. I saw what happened at Darkshines. My friend showed me. In his dying moments he showed me.’ Raizbeck tapped the side of his head and smiled a crazy smile. ‘He pushed into me. My old friend Jacob used that most precious gift of his to show me his defeat. So I could know. So I could avenge it. I saw her and I saw that young boy. Deep down in The Hole they were. Alive. Attacking. Killing. I saw what they did to him. To my friend. I kept on seeing it until I was pushed out. I saw it all.’ Raizbeck reached down and pulled a pistol from his belt, holding it loosely in his hand. ‘My friend always promised me that he would never use his gift on me. That was his vow to me, for all I gave to him, and my friend was good to his word until that moment. That moment of his miserable defeat. Then he called out to me, and I heard him. And I will answer him, Tommy.’ Raizbeck tossed the pistol at Tommy. ‘You’ve betrayed me and The Party. But I’m going to offer you a chance of redemption. When I am done with Mia, it will be you that kills her. That is how it is going to be Tommy, and this time you won’t let me down.’

  Tommy picked up the pistol. ‘Yes, Mr Raizbeck.’

  There was a crackle from the walkie-talkie on Raizbeck’s jacket, and then Everett’s muffled voice seemed to fill the van: ‘Headlights, Jack, there’s a car approaching from the south. Looks like a jeep.’

  ‘Understood, Everett. You know what to do.’

  Fallon was out of the van in a flash. Raizbeck shuffled himself forward but paused before stepping out. ‘Tommy?’ He glanced back and watched Tommy Bergan caressing the pistol, staring at it forlornly. ‘The Party loves you.’

  ‘The Party loves you too, Mr Raizbeck.’

  7

  The storm passed unnoticed, rolling out to the north and leaving them only the rain. The five stood together at the start of the steps, next to the sign, staring down towards a scene that was being painted in the ghostly grey hue of morning. The steps were steep and slick with the rain, running down the side of the cliff wall, before bending around and disappearing from sight. The cove itself was formed in what appeared to be a broken horseshoe shape, with a stony shoreline, barely more than six feet deep, before the dark water at its centre. Large black rocks peppered the beach far beneath them and further out two cat-rigged sailboats rocked gently on the calm, inky surface of the sea. For all the perfect serenity of the scene, and the gentle easing of the oppressive darkness, no one seemed in any hurry to make for the beach. For Albie the scene beneath them was just a little too perfect. She could sense that the others had their doubts too.

  ‘So they do have boats then,’ she said quietly. ‘Tommy was right about that much at least.’

  ‘Boats maybe, but how far is something of that size going to take people?’

  ‘Maybe there is something else further out?’

  ‘And who’s going to sail them?’ Callie asked. ‘You think there’s people sleeping on them, just waiting on passers-by to roll up?’

  ‘It’s all a little too easy,’ Hector said.

  ‘Easy?’ Abigail laughed, ‘what’s been easy about any of this?’

  Michael gripped the start of the wooden handrail that followed the steps down. ‘Maybe…’ the rest of his words drifted away. Michael stayed motionless, staring down the steps. He ran his shoe across the wetness of the step, testing it out, and then slowly he moved forward. ‘We should go.’ He looked back to the others and extended an arm. Abig
ail was drawing up alongside him, a hand finding her husband’s, as the other gripped the opposite handrail.

  ‘Simple as that?’ Albie asked, hoping it was. Not daring to believe it.

  ‘What is there for us up here? Isn’t this why we came here?’

  ‘I just think that…I mean…’ Albie had no argument, and yet something held her back, something was whispering warnings at her, something unseen and nameless. ‘I can’t, not yet…’ Albie backed up, away from the cliff edge and wrapped her arms around her chest. ‘I think we should wait in the campervan, just for a bit, wait out the rain, just wait until it gets a bit lighter. Besides…’

  ‘We aren’t all here yet,’ Hector finished for her.

  ‘Fine, well you wait for your people if you must, but we are…’

  ‘Why not just wait with us? Just for a bit. Wait until you can see…until you can know what’s down there.’

  Michael motioned behind them at the car park and the scattershot lines of abandoned vehicles. ‘Lot of people came here. A lot of people never needed to come back either, wouldn’t you say? There are boats down there,’ he waved a hand towards the expanse of sea before them, ‘and out there…out there is a new life. Something that isn’t broken.’ He looked to Albie and Hector and Callie in turn. ‘There is nothing here for people like us any more.’ Michael and Abigail turned their backs to the others and began to descend the steps.

  ‘What do we do?’ Albie had walked up to Hector and Callie and now stood before them, indecision and doubt set on her face. ‘I don’t know what to do.’

  ‘We wait,’ Hector said simply and then shrugged. ‘When we are all together we can do whatever we need to do. But not yet. Not now. We wait. We go back to the campervan and wait. There’s nothing else to it.’