It had been afternoon before Ted had felt well enough to move. He was overcome by grief, and the guilt that it had been his stumble that had cost Nancey her life. Would he be arrested? Would he be blamed? It was an accident. He hadn’t meant this to happen. The grief was joined by another feeling. Self preservation. One life had been lost. What was the point of another being ruined? My god. His job. He would lose that, too. His future would be gone.
He packed his car, returning to Sheffield. He started his new job and kept quiet. He robotically went about his life. Never talking about that night, until he was asked about his wife. He weaved a story about her running off with another man. His grief at her death was taken as grief at her leaving. She was an orphan. No one to ask questions. He had started believing the lie himself, eventually blocking the memory, to lose the pain.
The pain was back now.
***
Nancy’s apparition was beckoning him forward.
“Come to me my lover,” it said.
Ted, in a trance, walked on.
“I’m coming, Nance. Wait for me,” he whispered.
Stopping at the edge of the cliff, he saw Nancy floating in the air, smiling, encouraging him. He looked down. The hair on the back of his neck rose. Turning to run, he stumbled back in surprise. The horrific face of the ghost that had haunted him was there. Just behind him. His arms waved wildly as his foot found no support. He felt giddy as he tumbled backwards. Then he screamed.
The ghost floated above his broken body on the rocks.
“Together again, at last, forever,” she said.
The End.
The Hellion
Waves exploded against the side of the sailing boat, engulfing it in white water. It rose and fell as mountainous swells lifted the yacht high, then let it fall in the troughs. Flashes of lightening lit up the sea, before plunging it into darkness. Thunder rolled across the oceans.
Paul closed the hatch as he climbed down into the cabin. “That’s it, we’re battening down the hatches and riding this one out.”
Irene threw him a towel, grabbing a rail for support as the boat lurched to the side. “Should we call for help? I’m getting scared, to be honest.”
Paul walked across and put his arms around her. “It’ll be fine, she can ride out this storm. I’ve dropped the sea anchor over the front. That’ll keep us bow on to the swells, I’ve lowered the sails, sealed all the hatches. We just have to sit here and wait. We knew we’d get hit by a storm at some point.”
“I know, it’s just the boat is so small.”
“It’s built to take it, honestly, don’t worry. Look, you get your head down for a few hours, I’ll take the first watch, then we’ll swap.” He kissed her forehead and gave her a gentle push. “Go on, love, I’ll wake you if there’s any trouble.”
Irene crawled into her bunk and pulled up the netting to stop her falling out. She tried to sleep as the boat was violently pounded.
Paul sat down next to the navigation bench. He watched Irene, smiling at her as he caught her looking back. Eventually, her eyes closed.
This had been their dream; his dream, really. Irene had gone along with it, to be with him. The cruise of a lifetime. They had talked about it, planned it for fifteen years. Never really believing they would be able to afford to do it. Then, out of the blue, they had won three million pounds on the lottery.
They had bought their boat, a little thirty two foot Contessa. Paul had named it ‘The Slowpoke,’ a nickname he used for Irene on account of how slow she was at shopping. They had set sail from Dover, sailing across to France. Following the coast around past Spain, towards Africa, the Canary Islands, and on to Cape Verde. The longest trip was from Cape Verde to St Lucia. Sixteen days at sea. That had taken it’s toll on their supplies as well as their energy. A two week break in St Lucia was their reward. They had pictures, and memories that would last them a lifetime. They had made friends with other yachting couples they had met en route. It was a lifestyle, one that Paul had fallen in love with, and Irene accepted. He could not imagine going back to living in a house.
From St Lucia, they had sailed to Puerto Rico. Now they were heading to Florida. They had sailed through other storms, but this one was by far the worst.
Paul looked out of the window. There was a glow in the distance. It wasn’t lightning. It was green. It flared briefly, then it was gone. That was strange. He’d never seen anything like that. The Aurora wasn’t usually visible from here. He kept looking, but it didn’t return.
Paul turned around startled.
“Calm down, it’s only me.” Irene put a calming hand on Paul’s shoulder. “What’s up? It’s not like you to be nervous?”
“I just saw something odd outside, and being in the Bermuda Triangle doesn’t help. I’m just being a nervous Nelly.” He laughed. “I’m going to get my head down, wake me up if anything happens.”
***
Irene was sat by the desk. The storm was still fiercely rocking the boat. It had been blowing most of the day. Outside was black, momentarily lit up by lightning. Irene wiped the window. There was something outside. It could only be seen in the brief flashes of light, and only then when it wasn’t hidden in a trough. Yes, right there. It was another little boat. With every flash, it came closer.
“Paul! You need to get over here.”
Paul sat up rubbing his eyes. He walked across, grabbing hold of the table as the boat lurched sideways. “What’s up? I’d just managed to fall asleep.”
Irene moved aside and just pointed. Paul rubbed the window and looked out.
“Bloody hell, that’s close. Can’t they see us? Give the horn a toot.”
Irene gave a three second blast on the horn. It sounded weak in the storm. Paul squinted.
“I can just about make the name out. The Lion..? No! The Hellion. Try calling them on the radio.”
Paul kept his eye on the boat. He could hear Irene calling. Each call was answered by static. It was getting too close for comfort.
“Irene. Put your waterproofs on, and your life vest.”
“Do you...”
“Just do it, love. I don’t think this is going to end well.”
Paul pulled his waterproofs on over his clothes, before slipping on his life jacket. He grabbed a survival bag from a locker under the seat. Then he tied a life line from his life jacket to Irene’s.
“I’m scared, Paul.”
“It will probably miss us, I’m just being caut…”
There was thump against the side of the boat, followed by a low grinding. Paul was knocked over, Irene landing on top of him. Paul could hear something else, something worrying. He could hear rushing water. He got up dragging Irene to her feet. He opened the hatch and climbed on deck. The wind hit him and pushed him back against Irene. He grabbed the rail and pulled himself up onto the deck, holding tightly to Irene. He wiped the salt water from his eyes. The Hellion had hit the aft starboard. Worse still, the impact had dislodged their life raft, and it was now trailing behind. He could see a massive rent in the aft. There was no way to plug the gap, and now without a life raft, nowhere else to go.
“We’re sinking. We’re going to drown.” Irene was shaking, not just from the cold.
“No, we won’t, pass me the boat hook, and get ready to jump.”
Paul took the hook from Irene and reached across to The Hellion. The gap between the two boats was starting to open up again. He didn’t have much time, if he missed, their one chance would be gone. He swung the boat hook out, it bounced on the bow, it slid, then gripped the fender. Paul pulled on the hook, trying to close the gap, but he was fighting the weight of the boat, and the pull of the storm. The gap closed.
“Quick, love, jump for it.”
Irene took a step back, then ran and jumped. Paul felt a tug against his chest, then saw Irene fall short, hit her head against the front of The Hellion, and land in the sea. She was face down, and not moving. Paul looked at
the life line from his vest to Irene’s. Stupid. He didn’t have time to think, he ran and jumped. His chest hit the bow of the hellion, and he started to slip into the water. He tried to grab hold, his hands slipping on the wet bow. He fell further over the front, then his feet rubbed against a rope hanging over the edge. He squeezed his feet together either side of the rope and pushed upwards. He inched up. Then he could reach for a rope tie on the deck and he pulled himself onto the yacht.
He stood up, took the life line in his hands, and started to pull Irene up the side of The Hellion. Her lifeless body came over the side and he placed her on the deck. He turned her onto her side as a wave broke over the yacht. She wretched, and water came out of her mouth, she vomited, then gasped for air. Paul held onto her life jacket and pulled her to the hatch. Lowering her into the relative safety of the Hellion. He put his arms around her and pulled her close.
“I thought I’d lost you.”
“You still might, we’re not safe yet.” Irene hugged him back, her body wracked by the occasional cough. She pulled herself away and looked around the cabin. “There’s no one here. We’re on a ghost ship, in the Bermuda Triangle, in a storm.”
Paul looked out of the window. “She’s gone. Slowpoke’s sank.”
Irene went over and squeezed his shoulder. “You’ve still got me. Come on, let's see if this boat’s going to stay floating.”
Paul tore himself away from the window and examined the boat. He started at the front and worked his way back. Opening lockers and looking through cupboards. He lifted a hatch and looked at the bilges. The pumps were still running, but there was a small amount of water sloshing about.
The only damage that he could find was a small hole in the bow, where it had collided with Slowpoke. It wasn’t big and he plugged it with some old sail that was in the anchor locker. The cupboards in the small galley had a good supply of tins, the water maker was working, the sails were reefed, everything was in good order.
“The life rafts still on board,” Irene said. “It doesn’t make sense, why would anyone leave, and how did they go?”
“Maybe they fell overboard in the storm?”
“All of them? That doesn’t seem likely.”
“There could have been only one sailor.”
“No,” Irene said. “There’s mens and womens clothes in the locker, so there were at least two people.”
“Well, there’s nothing we can do about it now, let’s just get comfortable and wait for the storm to pass.”
***
Paul sat up, rubbing his eyes. The green glow was back, but this time it was coming through all the windows. He was supposed to be on watch while Irene slept. She was snuggled up beside him. Shaking her awake, he pointed outside.
“What is it?” she asked.
“No idea, follow me.” Paul walked to the hatch. Opening it, he looked around. Above the boat was a green spinning light. It looked like a green whirlpool in the sky. He stepped up on deck.
“It looks like some weather phenomenon, like ball lightning,” Irene said, as she joined him on deck.
“Could be like a plasma discharge or something,” Paul offered.
“Do you think it had anything to do with the people on this boat disappearing?”
“Not sure, it just looks like wind…”
White light lit up the deck, and Irene was lifted from her feet. She was screaming, but Paul could only hear a rushing. He felt light-headed, then he, too, was pulled up into the sky. He reached out and grabbed Irene’s hand as they rushed upwards. The world turned into a spinning kaleidoscope of green and blue sea. Then he was falling. He thrashed about, reaching for something to hold. There was nothing.
With a jarring impact, Paul hit the ground. His head was spinning, and he felt nauseous. There was a thud nearby, and he turned in time to see Irene landing in some bushes. He tried to move, to get to Irene, but every movement brought a wave of agony. Irene’s face appeared over his.
“Paul! Paul…”
***
Paul opened his eyes. He blinked and reached up to rub them, wincing at a bolt of agony as he moved his arm.
“Take it steady, love. You landed hard.”
“Feels like I went ten rounds with a crane.” Paul tried sitting up, then just laid back down.
“I checked you out, nothing broken, but you’ve got a big lump on your head, so be careful.”
“How are you, and where are we? The light. What happened?”
“I’m ok. I landed in some bushes, just a bit sore. No idea where we are, Could the wind have thrown us to Puerto Rico, or an island nearby? We are in some woods, but the trees are odd, not like the ones back home. The bark’s smooth, like skin. There was a hut nearby, I carried you here. Looked like a safe spot. Do they have pygmies in Puerto Rico?”
John was taken aback by the question. “That’s a bit random, isn’t it? Pygmies? Don’t they live in Africa? Why?”
“Oh, I didn’t know. There’s some small footprints outside, a lot of them. Hand prints, too. On the floor. Looks a bit odd. Come and have a look, but take your time.”
Paul sat up, testing his arms and legs. Everything felt OK, just his head and neck. He stood, then wobbled. A wave of nausea came over him. Irene held his arm to support him. He rubbed his neck and the back of his head. There was a lump just above the base of his neck. Pain shot through his head when he touched it. He gently probed around. The bone felt intact, but he really needed a doctor.
“Come on, Irene, show me those prints.” He walked outside, supported by Irene. It was dark. The air was dank and smelt musty. There was a small clearing around the hut.
Irene pointed down to the ground at the side. It was a patch of damp mud. There were a lot of footprints in it, looking like a large group of people had passed by. All the footprints were small. Paul put his foot at the side of one.
“Half the size of your foot. You’re what, five foot ten? So they must be about three foot?”
“They could be any size, just have small feet,” Paul said. “But I see what you mean about the handprints. Maybe it’s a pack of monkeys. Irene! Are you listening to me?”
Irene was looking into the woods, shaking. “There’s something watching us.”
She was pointing to some bushes, between two tall trees. At first, Paul couldn’t see anything. Then he noticed the leaves move. There was a pair of dark eyes peering out at them.
“Should we go back in the hut?” Irene had started to back away.
“No. We’d be trapped. We need to find civilisation. Just back away slowly. I think it’s some kind of monkey. Just don’t turn your back is all.”
They both backed away, until they reached the hut, then they moved sideways to work around it. The creature watched them.
“When we get the hut between us and it, we can move faster,” Paul said. “It’s probably more afraid of us, than we are of it.”
There was a rustle of leaves, the creature had come out of its hiding place. Paul stared at it. What the hell was it. He squeezed Irene’s arm and increased the pace.
It was short, only about three foot high, grey. It was hairless and had big almond shaped black eyes and a small slit for a mouth. It was crouching, almost on all fours. Watching them. Its mouth opened, and it hissed at them. It had two small pointed teeth.
Paul lurched backwards, and turned to see Irene had started to run, pulling him as she went. The panic was infectious, and Paul gave in to the fear and ran with her. He could hear scampering behind him, but he could not turn around, scared of what he might see.They had to dodge around trees and leap over bushes. Paul lurched forward as Irene pulled him again, then he heard a scream. He fell, hit the ground, and spun head over heels, down a steep bank. It had been hidden by the trees growing on its slope. He was gaining speed. He had no idea where Irene was, or the creature. He came to the bottom and his legs hit a log. There was a snap. Paul screamed, his face contorted in agony. He breathed fast,
trying to control the pain, he was sweating. He could see Irene. She had rolled into some bushes on the other side of the valley bottom.
Movement caught Paul’s eye. At the top of the valley, faces peered over the edge. A lot of faces. Paul counted, ten, no another one, eleven.
Irene crawled towards him. He carefully shook his head, waving his hand to signal for her to go back. She kept coming. Anger built up in him. There was nothing she could do, there was no point putting herself in harm's way, not for him, he wouldn’t allow it.
He looked at her and mouthed, “Get back, now!”
He could see tears in her eyes, as she struggled. Her desire to protect and be with him against her self preservation. She moved back into cover. The creatures had started to come down the valley side. Some were on all fours, a couple walked on two legs. If these were monkeys, they were unlike any that Paul had ever seen.
The first one was near Paul’s feet. It turned and made a noise to the others, it sounded like some kind of language. It reached down and twisted his foot. He shouted as his leg moved unnaturally below the knee. The creature twisted it again, watching Paul.
***
Irene had crawled back into the bushes at Paul’s signal. She was shaking, tears stung her eyes. The creatures were torturing Paul. She could hear his screams. She wanted to turn away, but couldn’t. She wanted to help, but her body wouldn’t respond. One of the animals had moved to Paul’s face. It was leaning over him. It looked like it was kissing him. She could see Paul writhing in pain, pushing at it with his hands, his legs flopping around uselessly. The creature pulled its head up and there was a gush of blood. It had bitten Paul’s nose off, a low moan was coming from his mouth, a sound of pure pain. She could watch no more. She moved backwards on her backside. Pushing with her legs.
More of the creatures had gathered around Paul. She was reminded of hyenas feeding on the documentaries she had seen. She moved further away, looking for some kind of cover. She glanced behind her, there was a dark patch on the ground. She changed direction, heading for it. It was a hole in the ground, the sides were smooth, like it had been made with some kind of tool. She slithered into it. The sides were cool, like metal, but painted brown to blend in. She pulled herself in further, recoiling as her hand touched something sticky. She raised it, her fingers were covered in blood. She tried to grab the sides as she felt herself sliding further in. The more she moved, the faster she slid. It was like some ghoulish water slide. The tunnel had grown steeper, almost vertical. Her heart raced. There was a light, literally at the end of the tunnel. She wanted to scream, to vent her fear, but was more scared of alerting the creatures. She landed in something soft, something pliable.
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