The Dark Rider (Fading Light)

by Andrew Critchell

  ‘What?’ she spoke out fearfully. ‘What do you want?’

  The noise rose again surrounding her, a multitude of voices whispering in the air. She spun around, looking frantically.

  ‘She has the Key.’

  ‘She has the Key of Arachar.’

  ‘It is not possible.’

  ‘Give it to us.’

  ‘You must give it to us.’

  Crying out in panic Vicky ran blindly forward crashing through the undergrowth.

  ‘Neil? Neil?’

  Neil turned to see his sister come running straight at him, her face contorted in fright. He caught her.

  ‘Whoa, what happened?’

  ‘People. Voices. I heard them coming,’ she said, the words tumbling out of her mouth. Her eyes were wide with fright. ‘Behind me. People coming.’

  He grabbed her shoulders, shocked to see her like this, making her focus on him. Behind her was only empty woodland.

  ‘Hey, hey,’ he said soothingly. ‘There’s no one behind you. There’s nothing there.’

  She began to register him.

  ‘Nothing?’ she asked in a quiet voice, her breathing beginning to slow.

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘But I heard voices. They said I had to give them the key.’

  Neil looked at her sharply.

  ‘I think you have to get rid of that thing. It’s making you turn gaga.’

  ‘Maybe I’m imagining things,’ she said quietly knowing now that he was not going to believe her. She looked straight into his eyes. ‘Can we go back now?’

  ‘Yeah, sure,’ he said turning to go back the way they had come. Vicky grabbed his arm.

  ‘Not that way,’ she said.

  ‘Ok.’ Neil looked round doubtfully. ‘This way I guess.’

  They set off, following a feint trail between the trees. Vicky noticed a fox off to their left staring at them. As she met its gaze the animal turned and melted away into the undergrowth.

  ‘This place certainly didn’t look so big from the outside,’ said Neil after a few minutes.

  ‘There’s something else,’ said Vicky.

  ‘More voices?’ mocked Neil.

  Vicky scowled at him.

  ‘Look at the trees.’

  Neil did as he was told noticing for the first time that everything was brown, yellow and gold.

  ‘Why is it autumn?’ he asked nervously.

  ‘I told you. There’s something weird going on here,’ Vicky said. She was feeling scared now.

  ‘Well, I guess we better find the way out,’ said Neil.

  They carried on walking again but after a few minutes Neil stopped.

  ‘Ok, we’re definitely lost now,’ said Neil.

  ‘We can’t be,’ said Vicky looking all around her.

  ‘Well, we are,’ said Neil. ‘None of the leaves are green. We didn’t come this way.’

  ‘Wait,’ said Vicky. The fox had reappeared some twenty metres to her left and was sitting and staring at her again. As soon as she met its gaze it turned away and walked a few paces before turning back and looking at her. For some reason she knew it wanted her to follow it.

  ‘It’s that way,’ she said.

  ‘How do you know?’ asked Neil.

  She looked back at him her eyes focusing on him.

  ‘It feels right,’ she said.

  Neil shrugged.

  ‘Lead the way,’ he said.

  He followed her, the trees ahead of them beginning to thin out. Beyond them they could see bright daylight and, as they approached, they found themselves on the edge of a clearing in the middle of the wood surrounded by a ring of older trees. A gnarled and ancient oak tree stood in the centre. The trunk was thick and wide at the base, the bark full of cracks and fissures filled with mosses and thick silk from spider’s webs. Bulbous swellings marked where branches had once been, while a few metres up the great trunk had split in two.

  ‘That’s a very old tree,’ said Vicky walking up to it and placing her hands on the rough trunk.

  ‘I bet that’s the dragon’s hideout,’ said Neil coming up next to her. ‘There is a secret doorway in the trunk somewhere. We just have to find it.’

  They walked around the misshapen base of the oak letting their hands brush against the bark. Half way round a natural opening had appeared forming a large enough hole for them to crawl through.

  ‘Wow,’ said Neil. ‘We’ve found it. Let’s go in.’

  He crouched down and began to crawl into the entrance. Vicky followed him in but before she did she looked around the clearing for the fox but it was gone and she felt suddenly afraid.

  ‘I hope there are no spiders in here,’ she said as ducked down and she found herself in a roughly circular space with just enough room to squat down next to her brother. Without her noticing he picked up a small thin twig with one hand and began to brush it lightly against his sister’s ear. She twitched and then suddenly screamed, swatting the side of her head and flapping her arms around. ‘There’s something on me. Get it off. Get it off!’

  Neil collapsed into a fit of giggles as he dropped the twig and pointed at her.

  ‘If you could have seen your face,’ he managed through his laughter.

  Vicky looked at him in disbelief before punching him on the arm.

  ‘I hate you.’

  Neil blinked hard trying to clear the tears of laughter from his eyes. Looking outside, as his vision came back into focus, he froze.

  On the other side of the clearing, almost directly opposite them, stood a man. He was dressed in a long, shabby looking coat, thick greasy hair brushed back to fall onto his shoulders. At his side stood a large black dog that was panting heavily and looking around. It was then that Neil noticed the boy standing a metre or so behind holding a sack and a shovel. The boy was in his early teens, thin and with a malnourished and grubby air about him. He was staring at the ground, a sullen expression on his face.

  Tapping Vicky on the shoulder Neil pointed outside. Vicky’s eyes widened as she followed the direction of his gaze. The man was looking down at a notebook held in his hands. He raised his head, dark coloured eyes resting on the oak tree as if looking right at them. The children held their breath. The man looked away and began to pace slowly around the circle of trees until he was out of sight. Coming back into view he stopped and motioned for the boy to come forward. There was a brief exchange of words, which they could not hear, and then the boy dropped the sack and started digging while the man crouched next to him staring at the earth.

  It was then that Vicky noticed movement in her peripheral vision just above her. Letting itself drop down in sudden jerky outlets of silk was a large, fat garden spider, its outstretched furry legs and grotesquely swollen abdomen rotating slowly in the airless interior of the tree trunk. With an abruptness that made her scream, the big arachnid plopped itself down not more than a centimetre from the end of her nose.

  Outside three heads snapped up and around to look in their direction. A low rumbling growl reached them as the dog, a one metre high black Rottweiler, barred its teeth, nose testing the air trying to pick up a scent. The man rose slowly, turning as he did so until he was facing them. Neil felt his gaze bore straight into him.

  The dog began to stalk forward, nose low to the ground, teeth glistening with drool. The growling intensified.

  ‘Come out and I call him off,’ called the man, his voice ringing across the clearing.

  Neil tried to swallow, his mouth suddenly like sandpaper.

  ‘I think we’re in trouble,’ he gasped.

  Vicky nodded, hand clamped over her mouth to stop herself screaming, still petrified by the spider in front of her and now the man eating dog about to tear them limb from limb.

  ‘Who’s there? How did you get in here?’ called the man stepping forwards slowly, eyes still fixed on them. The dog was now only a few metres away, snorting and snarling in anticipation as it approached.

  ‘Come out or he will drag you out.’
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  Vicky began to back pedal trying to merge with the back of the tree. She put both her hands out behind her, her right hand meeting solid wood while her left hand met nothing but thin air. It took a second for her brain to register and then she twisted round and felt with both her hands while her eyes adjusted to the faint light coming from what looked like a bigger hole in the back of the tree.

  ‘I think there’s another way out,’ she said urgently. Neil tore his eyes away from the oncoming beast and looked at his sister.

  ‘Where does it go?’ he asked.

  ‘I don’t know but do you have a better idea?’

  ‘Let’s do it.’

  She began to move into the hole, body bent into a crouch, and as she went further in she could see the gap twisted round to the right. She followed the curve of the passage and as she moved it became lighter and then she could see daylight and trees and in a second she was out in the open and pushing herself upright. She turned to see Neil’s upturned face looking at her as he began to climb out.

  ‘Run,’ he urged her. ‘Now!’

  Vicky took off, with Neil a couple of seconds behind her. As they ran a volley of barks and viscous snarls came from the other side of the oak. Then they were in the trees and running blind, Vicky still in the lead, and as she ran she saw something orange-red flashing in the undergrowth off to her left. With a shock she realised the fox was back. Without hesitation she changed direction to follow it. Neil was too intent on the barking behind him to worry where his sister was going and he followed her as they crashed through undergrowth and suddenly they found themselves back out in the open moorland. On the horizon they could just see the chimney’s of their cottage poking through the surrounding trees.

  ‘There’s the cottage,’ cried Vicky.

  ‘Just keep running,’ urged Neil.

  They scrambled away from the trees and ran across the heather, the noise of the dog rising in their ears. Neil slipped and fell. Panic rising, he twisted around half expecting to see the dog leaping onto him but it did not come. At the edge of the trees stood the man gripping the back of the dog’s neck, jaws showing off frightening large teeth with every bark, every fibre of its being straining at the hold, wanting to be set free. Neil could not see the man’s eyes clearly from that distance but he felt them boring into him and the message was clear. He scrambled up and ran on following his sister’s fleeing figure across the heather until the man was out of sight.

  Chapter Nine

  Nicola showered, washing away the salt of the sea and the chill of the rain. She washed automatically her mind still in a state of dreamlike haziness after her meeting with Paul. She tried to guess his age. He had looked late teens and had an unkempt wildness that appealed to her. She could not help but feel an attraction to him and she smiled to herself in mock shock for she was probably four years older than him and would never consider going out with someone that age back home. Then her smile faded. What was she thinking? She had only just lost her boyfriend, was stuck on her own in a hotel in Cornwall and had to go home in a few days to sort her life out. But then she also felt a new freedom she had not felt before. A desire to take action and live for the moment, to throw away forever the paralysing inaction that had so far inhibited her life, to grab the life force with both hands and never let it go again.

  She turned the water off and stepped out of the shower to dry. She got dressed quickly into a t-shirt and jeans and went out of her room and back downstairs to the hotel lobby. She looked around half expecting, no, wanting, to see him standing there waiting for her but he was not. She walked through to the dining room where the staff were clearing away the breakfast service. They looked up as she walked in. She looked around quickly before turning and going back down the hall to the bar which was empty of anyone. She walked back out and over to the reception desk. There was no one there so she rang a bell on the desk. A few moments later a young woman came out from a room off to the side.

  ‘Good morning. How may I help you?’ said the woman.

  ‘You have a teenage boy staying here, his name is Paul. I have something for him, can you tell me his room number?’ asked Nicola.

  The receptionist looked at her for a moment and then said, ‘I am not familiar with this guest. Can you describe him, or give me his surname?’

  Nicola blushed as she described him.

  ‘I don’t know his surname but he is about six feet tall with short black hair and blue eyes.’

  The receptionist looked at her even more intently before speaking.

  ‘One moment, I will go and check the guest register.’ She disappeared back into the office for what seemed an eternity. Nicola waited impatiently, her resolve lessening with every passing minute. An older couple walked in and stood behind her. Just as they did the receptionist came back. Nicola began to fidget, just wanting now to get away.

  ‘I’m sorry but I could not find the name and to be honest I do not recall seeing a guest with that description. What is it you have to give him?’

  ‘I’m sorry?’ asked Nicola.

  ‘You said you have something to give him, perhaps you can leave it here and I will look out for him,’ said the woman perhaps smiling a little too sweetly.

  ‘Err, no, it’s ok,’ mumbled Nicola, blushing furiously. She turned away and walked quickly outside into the greyness of the morning. She walked across the car park and followed the path to the beach, her mind turning over the events of the last few minutes. She thought of their meeting earlier that morning and tried to remember what he had said. Perhaps it was her assumption he was a guest, but if he wasn’t what had he been doing there?

  Feeling suddenly stupid she carried on walking and before she knew it she was on the beach. She stopped and looked around not knowing what she really expected to see. There was no-one in sight. Nicola walked slowly down to the tide line and sat down on the sand hugging her knees. She watched the waves spreading across the sand before, spent, they retreated again to leave a layer of glistening moisture on the surface. A cool breeze stirred the air sending goose bumps along the bare flesh of her arms. She shivered and as she did so a movement caught her eye and she turned her head to the right to where a path rose up the side of the headland. She saw him then, walking along the beach towards her and her heart shuddered in her chest. She looked away and then back again in case it was a trick of her mind but it was real. He was tall and dressed in black jeans and t-shirt. There was something mysteriously primeval about the vision and she breathed deeply, adrenaline beginning to pulse through her body.

  He slowed as he approached and stopped a couple of metres from her. She turned to look at him.

  ‘Hi,’ he said, his voice sounding nervous.

  ‘Hi,’ she said feeling his gaze penetrating her consciousness and she found herself wanting more, a sudden addiction.

  ‘Do you mind if I sit down?’ he asked.

  Nicola chided herself for losing all social abilities. She self consciously let her arms drop to her sides, forcing her body language to be more open.

  He stepped forward and sat next to her in one fluid motion, his legs crossed. They sat in an awkward silence. Now that she had what she had wished for she did not know what to do.

  ‘I’m glad I saw you again,’ he said his eyes on the horizon.

  ‘How did you know I was here?’ she asked him.

  ‘Why did you come looking for me?’ he replied turning to look at her, an almost arrogant smile twisting his lips.

  She looked away, her mind in shock. Was it just a lucky guess? She composed herself and looked back at him.

  ‘I hope you don’t mind me asking but who are you?’ said Nicola. ‘And what do you want?’

  It was his turn to look away and she saw the teenager before her yet at other moments he seemed a lot older, an ageless quality that fascinated her.

  ‘As I said, my name is Paul.’ He paused before taking a deep breath, ‘I’m here because my aunt just died. I’m sitting here because I have no one e
lse.’

  His words hit the very being of her soul and she wanted to cry out.

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ she said softly. ‘Sorry about your aunt, sorry I am being so hostile.’ She reached out, her hand on his shoulder. He looked quickly to her, their eyes joining. She saw wants, desires, questions and dark secrets flashing at her from the depths of his consciousness, a mask dropping for an instant and then he looked away, breaking the contact.

  ‘Who are you?’ she whispered to herself in her mind.

  ‘Look,’ he said, ‘I’m depressing you, I should go.’ He began to rise but she held him on his shoulder, stopping him from getting up.

  ‘No, stay, talk to me,’ she said. ‘It might help.’

  The tension in his body released and he sat back down. She waited for him to speak.

  ‘She was not my real aunt,’ he said. ‘She was a friend of my mum from before mum met my dad. Her name was Gwen.’ Paul looked up as a seagull drifted across the bay. ‘My mum died giving birth to me. My dad says Aunt Gwen disappeared for a year after that and then out of the blue wrote to him from here. She said she would take us during the holidays. That’s how I fell in love with this place.’ He paused, watching his finger as he drew lines in the sand. ‘Then last year my dad was very ill and I stayed here all summer with Gwen.’ He looked at Nicola, a desperation in his eyes. ‘She told me things, showed me things. About my future, who I am, what I am to do. It was like all the summers before she was preparing me. So subtle yet so perfectly right.’ He looked away again. ‘And now she’s gone.’

  Nicola sat transfixed.

  ‘The doctors couldn’t explain it. She told me it was time.’ A tear rolled down his cheek. Nicola watched, seeing every detail of the ball of moisture as it tumbled across his skin. ‘She told me it was time for her to go, and for me to awaken.’ More tears began to fall, dripping freely onto the sand leaving dark spots. Nicola felt his shoulders begin to shudder. She put her arms around him and pulled him to her. He sobbed freely, great racking sobs that jarred his body and in between she heard his muffled cry. ‘And now nothing is happening.’

  Nicola sat there holding him, unknowing of what to do or say. She had been so suddenly thrust outside of her emotional experience that she had no action to fall back on. In the end instinct took over and she found herself stroking his hair whispering soothing words into his ear, trying to calm him and eventually he became still in her arms.