Cursing himself Falk caught Nicola’s limp body and lifted her up onto his shoulder again and began to run back the other way towards the village. He had already lost too much time and that had not gone well. He wondered what other disasters could befall them this night for already he had lost nearly everything. Forcing himself to focus, to be calm, he approached the first row of houses and slowed, reaching out with his mind searching them until he found one that was empty and then he stole silently across the back garden to the back door which opened for him and he was inside. He raced up the stairs to a bedroom where he laid Nicola gently on the bed, pulling sheets over her to keep her warm. He quickly searched the upstairs rooms, finding some clothes that looked like they may fit her, and he went back into the bedroom throwing them next to her on the bed.
Closing his eyes he called up a shield around her and then he turned and was gone taking the stairs two at a time. He went around the front of the house checking the street was empty before going to the nearest car. Opening the door easily, he got in and gunned the engine pulling away quickly and heading along the street and out of the village. As he hit the main road he floored the accelerator and shifted up the gears, the speedometer hitting one hundred and twenty miles an hour in short order. Already he could sense the wolves, a dark malevolence moving across the land like wraiths of shadow, and he cursed for they were moving so fast. Ahead of him was their prey, the sister. At this rate he was not even sure he would get there in time yet he had to for there was no other way. Desperately he pushed the pedal down as hard as he could, streetlights glowing in the distance.
Chapter Nineteen
Slowly, Nicola’s awareness began to return. Inside her mind the presence was moving, methodically undoing the spell that Falk had weaved when he touched her head and sent her into unconsciousness. Now it had finished and she opened her eyes sitting bolt upright, her breath coming heavily. Wildly she looked around finding herself alone on a bed in an empty bedroom, the glow of streetlamps through the curtains faintly lighting the room. Nicola jumped up and off the bed, the energy in her body restless and active, all her senses magnified and intensified so much so that she was tingling. Each inward breath brought a cavalcade of scents to her nostrils almost overpowering them. Perfumes and deodorants, sweat, dust, old trainers, dampness from washing that had not dried properly and behind that cooking and food odours, cleaning products, almost too much to process. The dried mud on her skin was cracking and irritating her so much that she could hardly bear it and above all this her mind was tumbling, images and fears flashing through her for her consciousness was trying to reject what was happening.
She went to the closed door and listened, ears straining for any sound. Slowly she twisted the handle letting the door come open a crack but still she could not hear anything. Opening the door completely Nicola stepped out onto the landing, seeing the bathroom and another bedroom, both of which were empty. She stole quietly down the stairs. Moonlight fell through the back door and windows to light the rooms in soft white light.
The house was truly empty. Nicola stood motionless in the kitchen unsure of herself, of what she was supposed to do. Was it all true, what he had said, what was happening to her? She could not believe it, could not believe what Falk had said about Paul. And where was Falk? Why had he left her here? Was he coming back? What if the owners did come back and found a strange girl wandering naked through their house? What if something else found her?
Turning, Nicola ran back up the stairs and into the bedroom. She closed the door behind her, pressing her back against its solidness, chest rising and falling with quick breaths as she fought to keep control. She looked around the room, the red numbers of an alarm clock on the bedside table glowing ten thirteen pm. On the bed were the clothes Falk had picked out.
Grabbing the t-shirt, jeans and a jumper she fled across the landing into the bathroom. A shower cubicle stood in one corner and, apologising in her mind to the owners, she stepped in, turning the hot on as much as she could stand. She washed the mud off as quickly as possible and then stood for a moment letting the heat of the water ease the aching of her body, and as she closed her eyes there was a shimmer in her mind. She froze for she had felt this before and was scared. Slowly she opened her eyes, knowing that she would find herself back in the endless void, and in front of her was another reflection but it was not hers, and she gasped in shock as her heart leapt into her mouth for it was Paul. His eyes were closed and he was floating as if in water, his black clothes and hair fanning out and surrounding him, moving slowly on eddies and currents she could not see. Then she saw the blood seeping from a deep wound on his shoulder mingling with the water and turning it cloudy. Screaming soundlessly she reached out frantically trying to reach him, to touch his face that was so deathly pale. Suddenly his eyes shot open to stare straight at her and his body convulsed, flinging his arms out towards her. He reached forwards and in a moment their fingers touched and with that he was gone. The black void was gone, and all that was left for her was an empty bathroom in an empty house.
Nicola sank to the bottom of the shower, great sobs racking her body, her fingers tracing a line down the glass where she had touched him. Longing filled her being, a deep need she had never experienced before and it was laced with heavy fear for something had happened to him. Eventually she forced herself to stand up and turn off the shower. In a daze she dried and dressed herself and went back into the bedroom where she just stood, staring unseeingly at the bed. Instinct told her to wait, that Falk would be back, that she was safest with him for there was too much happening, too much unknown. She walked over to the bed and sat down hugging her knees, tears falling freely down her cheeks as she thought of Paul in pain. Something had happened to him, something terrible and she could not bear it. She stood up and went to the door, her hands hesitating on the handle. How could she even think of leaving, of being on her own now? She returned to the bed and sat down again, anxiety gnawing at her. Rocking back and forth to try and soothe herself she could not shake the image of Paul from her mind, his eyes staring into hers, needing her.
Finally she could not stand it anymore and jumped off the bed. Running downstairs she found several pairs of shoes and trainers in a rack by the back door. One pair fitted her although they were very tight. Putting them on she stood by the back door. The energy was stirring, pulling at her, telling her not to leave but she had had enough of it and forced her own will on it and the force subsided. She opened the door reaching out with her senses to check if anyone or anything was there. Sensing nothing, she slipped quietly out of the house and ran out into the night.
Alex opened her eyes and shot bolt upright onto her feet. As she did so she swayed wildly, her hand shooting out and luckily finding something solid to steady herself against. Her other hand went to her forehead and she felt like it was the morning after a wild party for her head was pounding like she had the mother of all hangovers, a pain just behind her eyes that radiated up into her temples. She forced her head up and looked around, eyes squinting. She was back in the front porch of Gwen’s house, the puddles in the patio outside reflecting moonlight.
Alex turned and walked unsteadily into the kitchen. She switched on the light, the sudden brightness making her grimace, and began rifling through the drawers in search of painkillers for she could not think straight with the throbbing in her head. Finding some paracetamol she knocked back two with a glass of water and then sank down onto the floor, her back pressed against the fridge. She felt she should turn the light off, that for some reason it was not good to show that someone was in the house but she could not muster the energy to get up. She closed her eyes letting her head fall slowly back against the fridge door.
Alex felt sleep beckoning, wonderful, blissful sleep that would banish everything that had just happened so that she did not have to think about it, but as she dropped off, refusing to face these events, they rushed to the surface of her consciousness with a surge of heart pounding adrenaline tha
t made her gasp. Her eyes shot open and she looked around fearfully. Pushing herself up, she stepped to the doorway and hit the light switch, plunging the kitchen into darkness, and then turned. With her back pressed against the door jam, she looked round, eyes flashing wildly in the gloom. Straining her ears she tried to pick up any sounds over the noise of her own breathing and heartbeat for she was sure, as her thoughts had pushed her awake, that she had heard something. All was quiet, streetlamps and moonlight casting an ethereal glow through the window.
Suddenly wanting to get away from here, from everything, she stepped nervously to her side and into the porch, passing the bottom of the stairs as she did so. She reached down slowly and began packing her wet clothes into her rucksack as quietly as she could, feeling suddenly exposed, the big porch windows jutting out into the front garden full of dark shadows. Alex looked around. The thought that someone was watching her made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up in a prickling sensation that extended down her back. Finished, she pulled the drawstring tight and, picking up her rucksack, retreated back into the shadows of the hallway, her eyes searching for any sign of movement outside. She saw nothing and began to chastise herself for being so jumpy when there came a soft creak from upstairs that made her drop her rucksack in fright with a loud thump. Looking down, something moved out in the garden on the edge of her vision yet was gone as her eyes snapped up to look, a scream stifled on her lips.
With her heart pounding, she stared wide-eyed out in front of her but could see nothing outside. Was she just getting freaked out being alone in the dark in Aunt Gwen’s house so soon after she had died and after what had just happened in her mind? She knew seeing her brother had been real as, gingerly, she felt the bruise on her shoulder where he had kicked her, but the rest of it, being in the wood, the weird stuff Gwen had said, the attack and being told to wait for some kind of orange haired man while she had something planted in her head. It had seemed real but, God it was too fantastical to exist and she just could not believe it. Then a pang of guilt hit her as she remembered watching Paul disappear along the footpath in the middle of a storm and how quickly she had given up following. What if something had happened to him? What if he had fallen down the cliffs into the sea and drowned? A cold sinking feeling suddenly filled her stomach. What if he was dead? As this thought hit her, another creaking sound came from the ceiling above. With growing dread she realised there was no mistaking it now.
‘Paul, is that you?’ she called out instantly regretting it.
The creaking stopped suddenly and a scrabbling noise began to move across the ceiling. Wide eyed with fright Alex began to back away feeling for the doorway to the hall behind her with an outstretched hand. Too late she realised her rucksack was still at the bottom of the stairs for she was sure whatever was upstairs had reached the landing. Then the door to one of the bedrooms began to slowly creak open and with a scream Alex turned and ran through the porch, pushing the front door open before her as she dashed across the patio and straight into a large shadow that was both hard and soft at the same time and which stopped her dead in her tracks.
Alex looked up, her sharp intake of breath cut short as a flash light was shone straight in her face and a hand gripped her left shoulder like a vice.
‘And where do you think you’re going in such a hurry?’ said a gruff voice.
‘Let me go,’ cried Alex as she kicked out in instinct, feeling her trainer connect with something hard which must have been a shin bone. The grip lessoned for an instant but then tightened again and held her firm.
‘That hurt,’ said the voice and then a face appeared in the light and a badge was shown to her which said Devon and Cornwall Police - Detective Inspector McGrawl, above which was a photograph of the face that was now staring at her. The man looked old, in his fifties, a once handsome face now half covered with a short, ragged beard, cheeks and chin filling out with fat. The eyes were hard, grey steel that betrayed little emotion and which sent a chill down Alex’s spine. He was about the same height as Alex but, from what she could see, very stocky and obviously very strong.
‘I’m Inspector McGrawl and this is Inspector Bradley.’ The man turned the light briefly to his left, illuminating what had been a taller shadow and for an instant she saw a younger face nod at her, a slimmer man with a goatee beard and straight black hair tied back into a ponytail, before the light was back on her and she squinted in the glare.
‘We’re investigating a couple of disappearances. A male youth and a woman. The youth was last seen here. Now do you mind telling us who you are and what you are doing here?’
Alex felt relief suddenly overcome her shock and she stopped struggling.
‘I’m Alex Carpenter. I met my brother here earlier. He went off onto the cliffs in the storm and I don’t know what’s happened to him. This is our aunt’s house but she just died, I was getting my stuff and then I heard noises upstairs and ran out.’
The man whistled softly as he flicked off the torch. In the moonlight she saw him nod to the other man who walked quickly across the garden and disappeared into the house. Alex felt a pull on her shoulder and found herself being propelled down the steps of Aunt Gwen’s front garden and down into the dark, narrow street in front.
Now hidden from view from the house the man switched on the flashlight again and pulled out some photographs from inside his jacket pocket and showed one to Alex. With a shock she saw a picture of Paul staring back at her.
‘Do you know this person?’ said the Inspector gruffly.
Alex looked up at him wide eyed. She had taken the picture herself about a month ago before Paul had left to come down to Cornwall.
‘Yes, it’s my brother Paul. I don’t know where he is now. How did you get...?’
‘And this one?’ he said dismissively as he placed another picture above the one of Paul, a grainy image showing a woman in her early twenties, her body facing away from the camera but looking back over her shoulder. She was slim looking with an attractive face and long curly hair, and was smiling.
‘No, I’ve no idea who she is,’ said Alex.
The man made a clicking sound with his tongue before placing another picture on top. Alex swallowed convulsively to hide her shock for the face staring back at her was of the man who she had seen in her vision, the warrior with the orange hair whom Gwen had told her to wait for, the one named Falk. The picture must have been taken in a police station as there was a side view and front view with a row of numbers being held by his chest. He was staring impassively at the camera.
‘Well,’ said the detective. ‘Do you know him?’
Alex looked up into the cold eyes and some instinct made her lie. She had to figure out what this meant herself.
‘No, I’ve never seen him in my life.’
He stared at her for a long moment and then with a low grunt placed the photographs back in his jacket and turned the flashlight off becoming just a shadow in the narrow street. Alex felt suddenly uncomfortable as she tried to catch up with her thoughts but found that her headache was returning, making it more difficult to think.
‘Why are you looking for my brother? He’s only been gone what, an hour?’ She paused wondering if that was right, for it seemed so much had happened.
‘As far as we are concerned he’s been missing for a few days. Your father filed a report,’ replied the detective.
‘But I spoke to him yesterday, he didn’t say anything,’ said Alex her mind spinning.
The man shrugged.
‘Who are the other people, in the pictures,’ she asked.
‘The girl is missing too and we think there is a link,’ replied McGrawl, his voice a disembodied sound in the dark. ‘The man is known to us and is, for reasons I cannot divulge, someone we want to speak to.’
Alex swallowed.
‘Is he dangerous?’ she asked.
‘Yes,’ McGrawl said simply.
Alex was quiet for a moment as she digested this information and tried to
reconcile it with what she had seen in the wood with Gwen, whether it was real or not. All she did know was that something was happening to her brother and she had to know he was ok.
‘Will you help me look for him, for Paul?’ she asked.
At that moment they heard someone approach and the other Detective, Bradley, dropped down onto the path next to them.
‘Nothing,’ he said.
McGrawl looked around.
‘We should leave,’ he growled.
‘What about my brother?’ asked Alex.
McGrawl turned to her.
‘This is not the place for more questions. We now know your brother is not missing, as you have seen him this evening, but there is something going on here that is not right.’ He looked to Bradley before turning back to her.
‘If you don’t mind I would like us to talk about this some more at the station.’
‘But my stuff?’
‘Get the rucksack,’ he said to Bradley who disappeared back up the steps towards the house.
‘I don’t think it is safe for you here,’ said McGrawl. ‘Will you come with us?’
Alex looked up at him feeling suddenly out of depth, that events were overtaking her.
‘Ok, sure,’ she replied.
‘Our car is in the street, this way,’ he said beginning to move off along the alley. For a moment Alex’s instinct was to run the other way, for she was somehow discomforted by these two detectives, but as she turned she met Bradley by the bottom of the steps holding her rucksack out to her.
‘Here you are,’ he said smiling, his eyes taking her in, and she was sure he knew what she was about to do. Feeling suddenly silly she took her rucksack and turned back to follow McGrawl out towards the road, wishing that her headache would go away.
The Dark Rider (Fading Light) Page 16