Outcast (The Darkeningstone Series Book 2)

by Mikey Campling

  Cally twiddled with her phone, trying to make its flashlight brighter. She looked across at Andrew, but it was impossible to make out his expression in the gloom. “What do you mean? Like it was fate or something?”

  “No,” Andrew said. “No, I mean, I was sent here to meet you.”

  Cally turned away and walked a few steps farther into the tunnel. I knew it. I knew he was too good to be true. Now it turns out he’s into magic crystals or something. “That’s an interesting idea.” She held out her phone, playing the soft white light along the damp stone walls.

  Andrew followed her. “I know this is going to sound strange, but Crawford sent me.”

  “What?” Cally wheeled around to face him. “What are you talking about?”

  Andrew held up his hands. “It’s OK. It’s like I told you. I work for the government.”

  Cally stepped back and her foot sank into a puddle. She shifted her weight to keep her balance, but the only way to save herself was to step farther back. Now both feet were in the puddle, and the icy water covered her feet, soaking into her jeans. “Shit!”

  Andrew stepped forward and held out his arm. “Here, let me help you.”

  “No,” Cally said. She backed away. Now, the water was even deeper, but so what? Andrew had lied to her, deceived her—there was no way she was going to let him get his hands on her. I’ve been so stupid. She bit her bottom lip. She was usually so careful, but she’d let her guard down, allowed herself to be swept along. Now she was trapped underground in the dark with a man she’d only just met. She had to think quickly. “We’d better get out of here. Helen will have missed us by now. She’ll have told someone. There’s a procedure.”

  “I’m sure there is, but it’s OK, we can leave in a second. I just want to explain. There’s no need to be frightened. I would never, I mean, you must know—I’d never harm you.”

  “Fine,” Cally said, trying to keep her voice level. “I’m sure it’s all fine. But let’s just go. We’ll go outside and we’ll get some fresh air, and then we can talk outside.”

  For a moment, neither of them moved, neither of them spoke.

  Cally stared at Andrew’s dark outline. He was bigger than her, stronger, and he was standing between her and the exit. Slowly, she raised her phone, aiming the beam of its LED flashlight directly into his eyes. Andrew narrowed his eyes against the light, his face deathly pale in the phone’s white glow. Cally’s throat tightened, and when she spoke, her voice was strained. “You go first. I’ll follow.”

  But Andrew didn’t move away. He shook his head. He extended his hand to her. “Please, let me help you up. You’re getting wet.”

  “No. I can manage. Just step back. Give me some room.”

  “OK.” Andrew held up his hands in surrender and backed away. “OK. But listen, you’ve got to let me explain—about Mr. Crawford.”

  A man’s voice rang out in the darkness. “This is going to be interesting.”

  Andrew whirled around. “Crawford? I don’t believe it.”

  Cally stared, wide-eyed. A man was marching toward them, holding a flashlight at shoulder height and picking his way confidently around the fallen blocks of stone. The bright beam from his flashlight bobbed as he walked, sending splashes of light to dance across the damp tunnel walls. “You’re Mr. Crawford?”

  “Yes,” Crawford said, “but please—don’t let me interrupt.”

  Andrew opened his mouth to speak, but Cally beat him to it. “What are you doing here?” she said. “Did Helen send you to find us?”

  Crawford stopped in front of them. “No. Though I must admit, I was hoping to find you sooner.” He paused and shone his flashlight at Cally’s feet. “Ah—I see that I’m too late.”

  Cally looked down as the flashlight’s bright beam played across the water. What the hell? She hadn’t just stumbled into a puddle—she was standing in a shallow, rectangular pit. She frowned. The pit had been cut carefully into the ground. Its sides were straight, its corners square, and it measured at least two metres long and one metre across. Her eyes grew wide. The pit was exactly the same size and shape as the Black Stone of Scaderstone, the same size as the mythical stone she’d once dreamed of discovering. Could the very thing that she’d hoped to find be right there beneath her feet? “I don’t believe it,” she murmured.

  “Now, if you wouldn’t mind stepping out of there,” Crawford said, “I’m sure we can straighten everything out.”

  The man’s voice was so calmly authoritative, Cally almost did as he asked. But she hesitated. He never explained why he’s here. “Wait,” she said. “What’s going on?”

  “Oh I’m sorry, I can’t have made myself clear.” He took a step forward and held out his hand. “You must let me help you up. We don’t allow people into this area.”

  Cally’s mind raced. She glanced toward Andrew. Had he been colluding with Crawford all along? Had they planned to trap her down here? No. The trip to the tunnels had been her idea, and while Crawford had tried to keep her away from this place, Andrew had pulled the gate from its hinges to let her in. So are they in on this together or not? She stared at Crawford’s outstretched hand; if she took it, if she accepted his help, she’d be committing herself, taking his side. I don’t know. There’s something about him I don’t like. She took a step back and lowered her phone, slipping it into the back pocket of her jeans. She didn’t want to risk dropping it if she had to run away. “Why are you here?”

  “I might ask the same question,” Crawford said. “You know, you have a lot of explaining to do—entering the tunnels without a guide and without buying a ticket, forcing your way past the locked gate.” He tutted under his breath. “Some people, the police for example, might see these activities as breaking the law. I’m afraid the authorities at the university will not take kindly to your behaviour.”

  Cally felt the blood drain from her face. Crawford was right. They could throw her out of university for this. She’d lose everything she’d worked for, everything she’d ever hoped to achieve. But would he really do that to her? Would he really set out to ruin her life? She chewed the inside of her cheek. What would Gemma do? She’d say he was bluffing, trying to blackmail her—and she’d be right. I’ve had enough of this. She stood up straight. “You’re not going to report me,” she said. “You know exactly why I’m here. The real question is, why have you always tried to stop me coming here? What are you trying to hide?”

  But Crawford carried on as though she hadn’t spoken. “I’ve known students thrown out of the university for much smaller offences, and I’m sure my old friend, Doctor Seaton, will be horrified at the way you’ve brought his department into disrepute.”

  Cally put a hand to her mouth. “You know Doctor Seaton?”

  “Wait a minute,” Andrew butted in. “You can’t get her thrown out. It was my idea to come in here. It was me who lifted the gate.”

  Crawford turned to Andrew in surprise, as if seeing him for the first time. He paused and looked him up and down. “Keep out of this,” he snapped. “You have made a complete mess of this operation from start to finish.”

  “Hang on,” Cally said. Her mind reeled. “So, he was telling the truth. You did send him here to find me. Why?”

  Crawford smiled. “First things first. It’s best if you come with me, Callisto. I have a car waiting. I’ll see that you get home. There’ll be time for your questions later, but I must insist that we leave now.”

  Cally looked from Crawford to Andrew and back again. Against the glare from Crawford’s flashlight, she couldn’t see their faces clearly enough to read their expressions, but there was something odd in the way Andrew hung back in silence, his head lowered, his shoulders squared. He’s angry with Crawford, but he daren’t speak up. Cally pursed her lips. A few minutes ago she’d been afraid of Andrew, but had she misjudged him? It was true that he’d lied to her, but he’d been trying to come clean when Crawford had barged in. If Andrew meant her harm, then why would he have admitted his dec
eit? She looked at Crawford, doing her best to look him in the eye despite the brightness of his flashlight. “What about Andrew? What’s his part in all this?”

  “As I believe I’ve already explained,” Crawford said, “there’ll be time for questions later. Now, step out of there and I’ll take you home.”

  Cally hesitated. There was something unsettling in Crawford’s tone of voice; an edge of restrained anger, the hint of an unspoken threat. “I’m not going anywhere with you,” she said. “Helen will be here any second—I’ll go with her.”

  Crawford cleared his throat. “I’m afraid Helen may already be stirring up trouble for you. The sooner we get out here, the sooner I can straighten things out. It won’t take me long.” He paused. “You do want me to straighten things out, don’t you?”

  “I don’t know,” Cally said. “I suppose so. But someone will come down to look for us in a minute—I want to wait for them. You two can go ahead and leave, but I’m not going anywhere with either of you.”

  Crawford reached into his jacket pocket. “Oh dear, I’m afraid that won’t do. You see, the only way I’m going to help you, is if you come with me. Right now.” He raised his voice. “Now get out of there and do what I tell you.”

  Andrew raised his head and stepped forward. “Don’t listen to him, Cally. Don’t go with him. He’ll take you away. I don’t know why, but that was always his plan.”

  A chill ran the length of Cally’s spine. “What? Take me where?”

  “I don’t know,” Andrew said, “but you can’t trust him. Believe me. I know I lied to you before, but I’m telling the truth now. You mustn’t go with him.”

  Crawford let out a deep sigh. “This is all very charming, but we’re wasting time.” He took the Taser from his pocket and held it at waist height, pointing it at Andrew. With his other hand, he shone his flashlight in Andrew’s eyes. “Stand back, Andrew,” he said. “Go back toward the gate and wait there.”

  Andrew blinked in the flashlight’s glare. “No. I’m not leaving. I won’t let you take her.”

  Without warning, Crawford raised his arm and fired, but Andrew was just fast enough—he dived to his left, launching himself into the gloom.

  As Cally watched, Andrew landed hard on his side, his shoulder slamming into the stony ground. He roared in pain and rolled clumsily onto his back. Above him, the Taser’s probes smacked into the stone wall and Crawford let out a hiss of frustration.

  Andrew scrambled to his feet, pushing himself forward. It looked like he was getting ready to charge toward the older man.

  “No!” Cally cried out.

  Andrew hesitated. “Cally, get back!” he yelled.

  But Crawford wasn’t looking at Cally. He was holding his flashlight between his teeth, and by its light he was calmly fitting a new cartridge to the Taser.

  Andrew scowled and lunged forward, but Crawford was already taking the flashlight from his mouth, and now he aimed his Taser squarely at Andrew’s chest.

  “Don’t move,” Crawford snapped. “I won’t miss again.”

  Andrew staggered to a standstill, growling in frustration. “Bloody hell!” He took a breath, exhaling noisily, pushing the air between his bared teeth.

  “What the hell do you think you’re playing at?” Crawford demanded. “I’ve been in the field for over a decade. Do you think I’d let myself be beaten by a backroom boy like you?”

  Andrew shook his head slowly then he held out his hands, showing Crawford his empty palms. “OK—you win. There’s no need to fire that thing. Just…tell me what you want me to do.”

  Crawford gave a hollow laugh. “About time. Now, listen carefully. You’re going to stand still and do as you’re told. Yes?”

  “Fine,” Andrew said. “Whatever you say.”

  Crawford glanced toward Cally, though he kept the Taser trained on Andrew, and his aim did not waver by a hair’s breadth. “I told you to get out of there, young lady,” he said. “Now move.”

  Cally stood, rooted to the spot. She stared at Crawford. This man was dangerous, ruthless. He was going to hurt her, hurt Andrew too. Perhaps, if she went along with his demands, it would calm him down, but it might also take her further into danger. She opened her mouth to speak but she had no idea what to say.

  Crawford shone his flashlight in her face. “Move,” he snapped. “Get off the stone. Now!”

  The stone! So the black stone was right beneath her feet. But could that really be what all this was about—a lump of rock? Cally looked down at the cold, black water lapping around her ankles. She could see nothing through the murky water; nothing but fleeting reflections from Crawford’s flashlight catching the ripples around her feet. Except…

  No—she’d imagined it; a trick of the light. And yet, she had seen it. She looked back at Crawford’s flashlight. The beam was pure white, but the reflection on the water had been bright blue. And it had moved strangely, racing across the surface, almost like an electrical spark in the dark water. Cally took a breath and felt her throat tighten. She stepped backward, looking frantically from side to side. I’ve got to get out of here. She glanced over her shoulder. Behind her, the unexplored tunnel stretched away into darkness. Where did it lead? Was it a dead end? It didn’t matter. If she could slip away into the shadows, she could find a place to hide, buy some time. If Crawford tried to stop her, it might give Andrew a chance to get away and fetch help. She swallowed hard. It won’t work. It’s a stupid idea. But it was her only choice. She backed away as fast as she could, dragging her feet through the icy water, churning it into a chaos of splashes and waves. Now, every ripple was edged with flickering slivers of blue light.

  “No,” Crawford snarled. “Not that way, you stupid girl. Come here.”

  “Don’t listen to him,” Andrew shouted. “Run! Find a way out!”

  “Oh, shut up,” Crawford growled. He raised the Taser higher, pointing it straight at Andrew’s face.

  “No!” Cally shouted. She stood still, her fists clenched. “Don’t you dare hurt him,” she yelled. “Don’t you dare!”

  “If you’d done as you were told, there’d be no need,” Crawford said. “But as things stand, I’m going to have to put this idiot out of action for a while.” He grinned and lowered his weapon until it was pointing at Andrew’s chest.

  Cally’s stomach lurched. She couldn’t stand by and let this happen. But she couldn’t give in to Crawford; there was no telling what he might do to her.

  She looked at Andrew. Surely he’d know what to do. But something was wrong. Andrew was staring at her, open mouthed. And his face was lit by a pale blue glow. Crawford had seen it too; his smile had gone, replaced by a furious snarl. And he was mouthing something. Or shouting. But Cally couldn’t hear him. His angry words were being carried away, as if by a breeze. But that didn’t make sense.

  She looked frantically from side to side. What the hell’s happening? The walls of the tunnel were bathed in blue light. And a strange sound, a muffled buzzing noise, reverberated all around her. She stared at Andrew and Crawford, reached out her hands toward them. She wanted to cry out for help, but a sudden rush of ice-cold air robbed her of her voice. It breezed through her, chilling her to the bone, tugging at her hair, prickling her skin.

  Something brushed against her legs, and she forced out a scream. Around her feet, flashes of brilliant blue light pulsed through the water, growing brighter, stronger. Sparks crackled and darted across the water’s surface, then arced through the air to swathe her legs in swirling beams of light.

  Cally’s breath froze in her throat. A savage, crushing pain welled up in her chest. She had to get out of there. She had to run.

  But when she tried to step forward, she couldn’t move her legs. She tried again, straining every muscle, but there was nothing she could do. There was no escape.

  Chapter 39

  2014

  ALAN RAN as fast as he could, hobbling awkwardly toward the empty stone. Surely, Tom had managed to drag himself from its sur
face. He must’ve fallen to the ground on the far side, and now he was hidden by the grassy bank. But no. As Alan reached the stone, it was clear that Tom was nowhere in sight. Alan stood for a moment, his mind whirling with impossible images: the glittering blue beams that had snaked through the air with a deadly sense of purpose; the unearthly glow that had seemed to come from within the dark stone.

  In a daze, he walked around the stone slab, scanning the ground as if he really might find some clue to explain what had happened to Tom. But there was nothing. He put his hands up to his head and clutched his hair. “What am I going to do?” he whispered. “What the hell am I going to do?”

  He lowered his hands and rubbed his eyes. He can’t have just vanished. He must be somewhere. Alan stared at the dark stone and pictured the possibilities. I had my back turned for a moment. Yes. That was it. Tom must’ve made a run for it. He’d summoned up some reserve of strength, fuelled by fear and adrenalin, and escaped. But how? Perhaps, in his desperation, Tom had tried to climb down to the quarry. Alan shuffled across the ledge and stood at the brink. He swallowed, ran his tongue over his dry lips, and imagined Tom’s broken body, cruelly sprawled on rocks below. “No,” he whispered. “I didn’t hear him scream.” He took a breath and looked over the edge, peering down the almost vertical drop to the quarry far below. There was no sign of Tom. Thank God for that.

  So where is he? Could he have staggered up onto the slope above the ledge and hidden in the undergrowth? Perhaps—in which case he’d have left a trail. Alan forced himself to walk the length of the ledge, limping on his injured ankle and muttering under his breath. He turned his head from side to side, peering into the undergrowth, but it was a waste of time. I’m just going through the motions. This was what people did when they lost something, or someone, wasn’t it? Alan wasn’t really looking for Tom—not anymore. He wasn’t even seeing the ledge. In his mind, all he could see was the fear in Tom’s eyes as the blue sparks crawled over him, claiming him. He was trying to show me something—I should’ve helped him. Alan stood still and stared into the distance. I should have done something. But no. He’d stood by and let it happen. He’d been useless. Worse—he’d been a coward and now it was too late.