The Cult of The Enemy: The Dark Places Trilogy

by S. G Mark

  It was just coming up to half eleven now. Curfew searching was almost be over, though quite how extensive their search would be this far into the countryside, Jack was unsure. The Nightstalkers were more determined in the cities to create order.

  “I’m going to get some air for a moment,” Jack said, his hand on the car door, “Are you okay?”

  “Go, I’ll be fine,” Alex said, laying back against the passenger door.

  Stepping out into the cold air, Jack sighed with relishing relief. Nothing but the wind disturbed the silence. Gently the trees folded back on themselves as a gust took them by surprise. Rustling branches void of leaves and the ground stirring with unease. Jack’s fingers were numb, but not from the cold.

  As the moon crept out from behind a veil of cloud, Jack felt the weight on his shoulders slip down and crush his heart. He was now a murderer. He had taken a life and no matter how justified he was in his actions, that would never leave him. In those moments, Jack questioned who he was and what he’d allowed himself to become. Blackmailer, the sort of scum who’d screw a man’s daughter just to extract information about someone. His mum despised him in the final years leading to her death. No doubt his dad now felt the same. He’d abandoned his girlfriend. His only remaining friends were equally killers. Kyle who sought to justify his motives with peace and love elsewhere in his life, and Alex who treated it as part of the job. And now, to add to the long list of traits that sickened him, he was now the kind of person who would forsake his comrades to their own death to save his own. Had he stayed behind to rescue Mike and Phil, maybe they all would have died; but that notion failed to detract from the remorse encrusting his arteries.

  Walking further into the heather, Jack brushed the branches out of his way. He was sorely tempted to keep walking into the dark and never return; to be beaten down by the weather until the frost stole every last joule of energy he had left in him. Winter would take him, and he would refuse to resist. His frozen body would thaw in the spring and he would decompose to become part of the soil, grains of dirt on the Earth. But behind him Alex sat in the back of the car; for the first time in his life he needed Jack. He could not allow any more lives to be lost by his hand today.

  From here he had a view of the road they’d departed. It was clear in both directions. Not a single light broke the unyielding darkness. An hour of unguided driving lay ahead of him. Exhaustion tinged his eyelids and he returned to the car.

  “Road looks clear,” Jack said, back in the car again. “Are you ready to head?”

  “Listen Jack,” Alex said, apprehensively, “Once you know this journey, there’s no going back.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Only two people in the organisation know where headquarters is, and it’s about to become three. That means you’re in the most trusted group. You’ll be elevated to a whole new level in the organisation. Your security will be preserved above all others,” Alex said.

  Jack didn’t fully appreciate what Alex was trying to say.

  “If this is the only way to get you to safety, then I don’t care what else that entails,” he said, starting the engine and slowly reversing.

  “I knew I made the right choice,” Alex said.

  “In regards to what?” Jack asked, driving carefully forward, peering into the depths in order to make out where the track was.

  “Bringing you onboard.”

  “I wish I agreed.”

  The journey began as the tyres hit the tarmac and Jack steered into the open road. Moonlight acted as a vague guide, with the asphalt reflecting a soft silver. They drove slowly, though Jack was tempted to switch on the headlines to pick up speed he knew that it would more than likely prove a fatal error. They were already dodging numerous bullets being out on the open road at this time.

  Alex, now sitting upright in the back, kept assuring Jack that they were in the wilderness of Scotland.

  “Emma surmised as much,” Jack said, “I mean we all guessed. Am I allowed to know where I am?”

  “I guess so,” Alex said, readjusting the sodden scarf, “We’re in the West Coast, close to Skye.”

  “And where was Quentin’s estate?”

  “Perthshire,” he said, “Inherited land from his father, of course. He had the least convincing Scottish accent.”

  With ShutDown far behind them, it was difficult to tell if civilisation was nearby. Candlelight failed to reach them if anyone was awake and watching at their windows. Still, it was a dangerous game to be playing.

  An hour slipped by and Jack’s heart rate hadn’t dropped yet. He had to force himself to focus on the road ahead and not on the events they’d left behind. Every mile or so a jolt of guilt would surface and the cycle of denial would start all over again.

  “How are you doing back there?” Jack asked for the hundredth time. He knew what Alex’s response would be because it was the same each time; asking the question somehow abated the poisonous thought that Alex might not make it to headquarters.

  “I’m alright,” he said weakly.

  They were both dehydrated. It had been hours since they had eaten as well.

  “How much farther?”

  “Turn right up ahead,” he said as a turning appeared out of the grey hue ahead.

  Jack slowed into the road, flanked by tall trees on either side.

  “Continue down here for the next twenty minutes. Until you we pass a gate. Then stop the car.”

  “Right,” Jack said, “And then what happens?”

  “I’ll tell you later,” Alex said, his voice drenched in fatigue.

  In the mirror, Jack saw Alex’s head slump against the window.

  “Alex? Alex are you alright?”

  “Yeah,” he slurred.

  “No, I need you to stay awake!” he said a little louder, “You can’t fall asleep on me…”

  “It’s okay… I’m just…”

  “Tired, I know,” Jack was panicked now, “But you can’t sleep. Not yet. Wait until we’re back at headquarters and we can get you the right medicine.”

  Alex mumbled something Jack couldn’t comprehend.

  Jack searched through his library of anecdotes, anything to keep Alex from falling asleep.

  “Did you hear about the month I spent in Cornwall with Emma? It was beautiful - we were right by the sea. Neither of us could leave cos of the lockdown on travel, remember that month? When we’re done with this revolution business, we should take a trip down there? You, me, Eliza and your mum?”

  A stirring of vowels and consonants preceded Alex’s sniggering response, “If you think I’m going to let you anywhere near my sister again, you’ve got another thing coming.”

  “That’s it!” Jack said, smiling that his friend’s spirit was still intact, “How is she, do I at least get to know that? And Maggie?”

  Alex clawed at the window to sit up straight, “They’re both well.”

  “You check up on them, regularly? Do you still see them?”

  “I might have lost a few pints of blood, but my brain is still in one piece… do you honestly think I’m going to tell you that?”

  “No, but could you at least give me a decent lie? Just another fifteen minutes you need to be awake for… just keep talking to me… tell me about the last time you saw them. What were they up to?”

  “They were burning pictures of you,” Alex said, “And they’d set fire to this wicker man thing with your head on it. All the family was round, it was brilliant.”

  “Brilliant,” Jack said, pleased that Alex’s sense of humour was undamaged, “Is it an annual event, or just a one off? It should probably be a marked day in the calendar - maybe a national day off?”

  “It already is a thing,” Alex slurred, “It’s called Halloween. Last year everyone dressed up as their worst nightmare… and it was you. Thousands of little Jack freaks running around the place.”

  “Yeah, I always thought I’d be famous one day!”

  The conversation continued in the
same vein of pseudo insults against Jack. He wasn’t even vaguely offended. So long as Alex kept talking, he was still fighting to stay alive. The second he slipped into sleep, that’s when the danger became serious.

  A gate emerged from the darkness. Jack slowed, but kept the engine running. He peered out of the windscreen to look at the faint details around him. The mountains around him were familiar, but he wasn’t sure if he was merely being hopeful. There was nothing remarkably distinguishing about the scenery that surrounded them.

  “Alex,” Jack said warily, “I think we’re here, are we here?”

  Again he peered into the darkness. He thought he could make out the outlines of a few structures, but it was hard to tell. The moon was obscured by a cloud and only a few shards knitted through the canopy above.

  “Which direction from here?” Jack said, his focus still on the coal horizon.

  Behind him there came no sound.

  “Alex?” Jack wheeled round to find Alex slumped against the window, his mouth slightly ajar and eyes shut. “Shit!”

  Springing into action, Jack switched the engine off and hopped out of the driver’s seat and threw open the passenger door, catching Alex’s limp body as he did so.

  “Alex, stay awake, you gotta stay awake,” he said shuffling backwards as he carried Alex’s weight in his forearms.

  Slipping out of the car like a salamander, Alex’s legs fell to the ground and he jolted into brief consciousness.

  “Fuck,” Jack said, dragging Alex round to the side of the car furthest from the road.

  Dropping Alex to the ground and resting him against the fence post, Jack stared frantically around him, looking for signs of Headquarters.

  Far off in the distance there was a sliver of silver meandering through the valley accompanied by a nearly silent rushing noise. A river. From Jack’s extensive training in the hills, he remembered seeing the river down in the valley below - but it hardly meant anything. He glared into the darkness, hoping for another slightest sign of familiarity. There appeared to be buildings, or at least barns of sort in the distance. They were too clumped together to be the farm though.

  With Alex whimpering at his feet, Jack was beginning to panic now. He crushed his head in his arms and yelled to himself, letting his frustration flow from him, if albeit briefly. And then, when his eyes snapped open again, he saw it. By chance it was shimmering in stray moonlight - the edge of a wall and the shadow of someone patrolling it.

  Relief poured from his chest. Renewed strength found, Jack kicked the gate open and hoisted Alex into his arms. The terrain was treacherous; mud and heather congealed together followed by springs of moss and the odd boulder. With his eyes on the dark patch of ground where the wall was - the cloud cover had quickly regained control - Jack ignored the weight of his friend and the searing pain in his chest.

  After traversing barely a hundred metres, his ankles were clarted in mud and his arms were waning. But he carried on, nearly collapsing into a stream as his foot slipped on a boulder. The wall, still as far away as it was when he had first seen it, lay straight ahead. And though he dare not take his eyes from it, he could not help but sneak a glance up to the hill to his left and feel the reassurance shower over him as he recognised the hillside with crystal clarity.

  “C’mon Alex,” he said, “We’re nearly there.”

  Alex hadn’t regained consciousness since the car and Jack was frightened that every second of delay risked the chance that he might never wake again. He picked up his pace, sliding in the mud at first. The wall was closer now. It might only be a few hundred metres. Harder and harder he slammed his feet into the terrain to grab purchase for the next launch as he thrust his body forward with every last kernel of energy he had left.

  “Don’t fucking die on me!” he said, breathlessly, to Alex, whose head bounced up and down limply. “Don’t you fucking dare die on me!”

  Now only fifty or so metres away, they were nearly there. Then, his ankle toppled over and he came crashing to the ground, Alex still clutched in his arms.

  “Help!” he screamed at the vacant wall, knowing there would be ears listening on the other side, “Help me!”

  No one came. The black remained unstirred.

  “Please! Help me! I’ve got him! I’ve got our leader! I’m a member! I’ve been here before! Please, fucking god help us!”

  Quiet.

  “He’s injured! He’s fucking injured! Please!”

  His voice ran dry, hoarse. Blood pumped with venomous fury. And then he saw it. The silhouette of two men running out from behind the wall, torches blazing.

  Jack sat back on his knees and cried with relief.

  “Please! He’s been shot, he’s been shot!” he yelled, clamouring for Alex’s faint but vehemently still present pulse.

  The men arrived, swinging their rifles around their backs as they saw the man lying on the ground was indeed Alex.

  “We’ll bring him inside,” one of the men said, his voice passingly familiar.

  The two soldiers hoisted him into the air together and marched with expedient haste back to the wall. Stumbling to his feet, Jack chased after them.

  As he approached the wall, he realised what side of the farm he’d come to. The verge of flowers smiled grimly up at him; winter had not been kind to them.

  Dashing through the gate after Alex, a dozen other soldiers sped across the farmyard to help. Jack’s breath was stolen from him, but he continued regardless, coming into the farmhouse just as they spread Alex on to the dining table.

  It was warm inside. The fire crackled reassuringly. Several of the men stripped Alex clean of his clothes. Another by the stove was grabbing the night’s water supply and bringing it to boil. From the secret entrance two more soldiers came up with bandages and other medical equipment. A final woman appeared, her eyes dashed with sleep, carrying a bag with her. She set it beside the table and immediately began examining him.

  “One shot to the left abdomen,” she said, tearing off the scarf to reveal a mass of blood.

  Jack collapsed backwards into an array of pots and pans. He couldn’t stand up.

  “Please save him,” he said, dropping to his knees, “Please.”

  “How long ago was he shot?” the woman asked him, keenly in control of her emotions.

  “I dunno,” Jack said, “A few hours ago?”

  Her focus returned to her patient.

  “Can you save him?” he asked.

  Suddenly Jack was gripped with the very real possibility that he was too late. Perhaps if he hadn’t have gone for that walk before midnight - it had been so selfish of him to clear his head. What if he’d just taken the risk and shoved on his headlamps to go a little faster? What if he’d not taken the time to think and had just shot Quentin as soon as he’d seen him? It would be all his fault. Alex would die and Jack would have to return to Relugas Road with the news of his death. He felt sick. He couldn’t focus properly.

  “Can you save him?” he yelled again.

  The doctor glanced up at one of the soldiers and nodded. The soldier immediately left Alex’s side and helped Jack off the floor.

  “Come with me,” he said, making his way over to the secret entrance, which had been left completely exposed in the chaos.

  “I can’t leave him…” Jack said.

  “He’s in Kathleen’s hands now,” the soldier said, “We’ll keep you posted.”

  Jack stood defiantly where he was, “No. Alex would never leave my side. And I won’t leave his.”

  “Please, come with me,” the soldier urged.

  “No, I’m staying. While Alex is out of action, I’m in charge.”

  The soldier looked at him oddly.

  “I brought him here. I know where headquarters are. I was with him on a mission. I shot the Home Secretary!” he yelled.

  Everyone’s eyes turned to him - save that of Kathleen’s who was dedicated to her work.

  “I fucking killed the Home Secretary,” Jack sighed, “
And that man on the table left me in charge until he’s awake again. So I’m fucking staying right here.”

  The soldier nodded, “As you wish.”

  With regained strength and his panic in check, Jack grabbed a chair and sat down on it, staring as the doctor set to work on Alex. He kept silent throughout. Mastering his thoughts, he also quelled the dreadful thoughts within. Alex was going to make it. Alex was going to survive and be ready to take this burden from him soon enough.

  He knew that that was what Alex meant in the car. You’ll be elevated to a whole new level in the organisation. Alex and Kyle already knew where headquarters were. This meant that Jack was now the third person to know the biggest secret in The Resistance and with Kyle somewhere in England, this meant that Jack was running the show up here. He both detested it and felt a degree of freedom. The other soldiers stood by his side. One fetched him a glass of water, which he devoured in seconds.

  Minutes passed. Kathleen was smothered in blood. At last she wiped her brow and turned back to Jack, whose ears prickled in desperate anticipation. He both wanted to hear what she had to say, and at the same time he wished he could never hear it.

  “Is he?” Jack asked, his eyes focussed on Alex’s limp body on the table. She’d cleared away most of the blood. A bandage had been bound around his lower torso.

  “He’s going to fine,” she said, “You got to us just in time.”

  Jack exhaled in glorious relief, a rush of adrenaline brought both a smile and tears to his face.

  “Thank you,” he said, reaching out to shake her hand.

  “My pleasure, sir,” she said, taking it as dried blood met with crusty mud. “We’re going to leave him overnight on the table so as not to aggravate the wound. Then we’ll move him.”

  “Fantastic,” Jack said, rising to his feet. “Can we have someone kept by his side throughout the night?”

  “Yes, sir,” one of the soldiers said, “I’ll take the first watch.”