The Dark Rider

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 were magnified and intensified so much so that her whole body was tingling. Each inward breath brought a cavalcade of scents to her nostrils almost overpowering them. Perfumes and deodorants, sweat, dust, old sneakers, dampness from washing that had not dried properly, and behind that cooking and food odors, 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 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 came 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, her 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 10:13 pm. On the bed were the clothes Falk had picked out.

Grabbing the t-shirt, jeans, and hoodie she fled across the landing into the bathroom. A shower cubicle stood in one corner and, apologizing 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. As she closed her eyes there was a shimmer in her mind.

Nicola froze, for she had felt this before and was scared. She opened her eyes slowly, knowing that she would find herself back in the endless void. 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 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 Nicola 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 forward 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 blankly 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 many unknowns.

Nicola 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 in a rack by the back door. One pair fit 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 back slowly 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 that 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. 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, yet 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 spine. Finishing quickly 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 was a soft creak from upstairs that made her drop her rucksack in fright with a loud thump. Then, something moved out in the garden on the edge of her vision. Stifling a scream she turned to look but there was nothing there.

Alex leaned back against the wall, her heart pounding. 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? She knew seeing her brother had been real, as she could still feel 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 just as Gwen planted something 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 realized there was no mistaking it now. Something was definitely up there.

“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 realized 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 shoe connect with something hard which must have been a shin. 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, his 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. Then the light was shone 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 rucksack and then I heard noises upstairs and ran out.”

The man whistled softly as he flicked off the flashlight. 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 showing 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 okay.

“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.

“Okay, 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.

They rounded the corner and began to walk towards a large silver BMW parked on the other side of the road. McGrawl reached it first, opening the rear passenger door and, as he did so, everything seemed to go into slow motion. The other man, Bradley, looked to his left, up the hill, and Alex saw his face lit up in a snarl as a pair of car headlamps came on illuminating them in the middle of the road like startled rabbits. Then there came the sound of an engine revving hard and the screech of tires as the car shot forward and hurtled towards them.

Alex looked back to McGrawl still standing by the open passenger door. His eyes were grim, fixed on the approaching car, his hand still outstretched towards her. Out of the corner of her eye Bradley seemed to disappear as the headlamps passed and then she saw McGrawl, a grimace forming on his face, as he began to push himself backwards and out of the way of the oncoming maelstrom. As another second passed Alex felt him slam into her and she was falling towards the ground. Inches in front of them came a rending, searing crash of shattering components and panels as the silver BMW crumpled and began to spin as the other car smashed into it, the open door just missing McGrawl by a hairsbreadth as it swung past him.

Alex felt the ground impacting on her back but her rucksack protected her as she fell. Shattering glass and plastic began to fall all around them as it expanded outwards from the crash. The BMW slowed to a halt while the car, a small black coupe of some kind, sat revving up again as it tried to pull back and away from the smashed BMW. It was then that Alex found herself looking through the gap between McGrawl’s body and arm and directly at the driver.

His eyes locked onto hers as he pushed open the battered passenger door and she gasped in shock for it was the orange-haired man Gwen had called Falk, the warrior from her daydream, the man in the Inspector’s photograph. His mouth was moving but the sound was muffled, as if being heard through glass, but she was sure he was calling her name. As his hand reached out towards her, urging her to come with him, she felt time slow so much that it almost stood still.

Alex felt the weight of McGrawl shifting away from her, one arm pushing himself up, the other already pulling something from the inside of his jacket which, with a shock, Alex saw was a gun. She looked back at the driver, his eyes fixed on her, and some instinct made her kick out with her foot catching McGrawl’s arm at the elbow forcing it to collapse and he began to twist awkwardly forward.

She felt herself pushing her body up, scrabbling for grip on the still damp road surface. Beside her McGrawl fell face first onto the road and he lay there, momentarily stunned.

Alex was on all fours scrabbling across the road towards the car. She grabbed the door handle, pulling herself in, and the door shut behind her. As she did so the car lurched backwards and she rolled forwards crashing her shoulder and back against the dashboard. Then they were spinning around and she was pushed against the side of the car and then thrust backwards as the car accelerated forwards, debris from the crash scraping along the road until it fell off.

Alex screamed as something heavy landed on the roof with a rending thump and the partly-shattered windscreen disappeared. A hand punched through the clear air grabbing towards her, and over the roar of the engine she heard a snarling and then a shout of “hold on” from the driver, and she was again thrown against the door as the car swerved viscously around a corner. Then the hand and the snarling were gone and, as they straightened and accelerated along the road, Falk checked the rear view mirror where he saw the wolf pick itself up from the floor, shake itself down and begin to jog after them.

Falk pushed down on the accelerator, but the crash had caused a lot of damage to the front end of the car and they moved along at a bare forty miles an hour, the engine screaming high as they pushed out of the town and up onto the main road. He urged the car on, knowing they had hardly made any distance, and all the time Alex lay against the door panting heavily and staring up at him in disbelief and shock. He risked a glance at her and then flicked quickly back to the rear view mirror and then the road ahead. Her silence began to unnerve him, even over the grinding of the machinery, but then after a short while she spoke, her voice shaking.

“So it’s all true then?”

“What is true?” he asked, not understanding.

“You. Aunt Gwen. My brother. All this magic, good and evil stuff,” she replied, grunting as the car shuddered uncertainly over some potholes.

“Yes it’s true,” he replied simply, finding himself having to pull harder and harder on the steering wheel to keep the car in a straight line.

Alex swallowed hard. Now she owed her brother an apology. Worse, she had to deal with the sudden existence of magic, but she put that to one side for now. All she wanted to concentrate on was finding Paul.

“Who were they?” she asked.

“Wolves,” he said. When she didn’t respond he risked another glance at her. She was staring at him, her face unreadable.

“Agents of the Dark,” he added trying to be helpful.

“Why should I believe you?” she asked him. “They were police. They had a picture of you and everything. They said you are dangerous.”

He shrugged before replying.

“You’re here aren’t you?”

She looked away.

“So what happens now?” she asked.

“We have to get to the girl,” he said glancing at her again. “It will make your headache go away.”

“How do you know about that?” asked Alex feeling suddenly tired as the adrenaline wore off, the pain in her temples growing in intensity.

“It is inevitable,” he replied. “With what you are carrying.”

“What do you mean?” asked Alex pushing herself up. “What did Gwen do? What’s in my head?”

“A key,” he said, the strain of keeping the steering wheel straight making the veins on his neck stand out. “To complete the awakening.”

“But wasn’t that supposed to be my brother?” she said her voice rising.

“We’re out of time,” he replied, braking hard as the car’s steering finally gave up and they swerved off the road and onto sandy gravel. Bouncing to a sudden stop he opened the driver’s door and was out moving around the car towards her.

“Come on, we have to run,” he shouted to her.

Alex struggled with the door latch, her body aching and bruised from the getaway, but it was jammed and she could not open it. It was then that they heard the low moaning carried on the still night air, a wailing that rose to become a soft howl.

She looked at him, seeing a spark of fear in his eyes.

“You’re kidding me,” she said.

“This is no joke,” he replied. At that moment more howling came to them already sounding closer. A fainter answering howl sounded out behind them.

“They are calling the rest of the pack. We have to move, now.”

He pulled hard on the door handle until with a clang of tearing metal it came free, and Alex almost fell out onto the ground. Falk caught her at the last minute and then pulled her upright.

“Where are we going?” asked Alex in a shaky voice, her eyes wide with fright.

“Over there.” He pointed to the horizon where she could see the faint glow of streetlamps. “About a mile. Can you make it?”

“I think so,” she replied, the helpless feeling that events were running away from her returning.

He pulled her forward and broke into a run. Alex followed, her legs feeling like jelly. Falk turned back to her.

“You must run faster,” he cried to her. “Otherwise we will not survive this.”

Pushing herself harder she tried to keep up with him, but she had not run in ages and was so out of shape she could feel a stitch already tugging at her chest. Another howl pierced the night air, this time to her left and a lot closer than the others had been. She looked in that direction in shock and then back again to see Falk staring back at her, his eyes dancing across the knife edge of fear and the rush of the chase. Grimacing she pushed on, her knees feeling the jarring impact of running on the road. As she ran images began to race through her mind of huge wolves catching her and tearing into her flesh.

Suddenly Falk pulled them down into a ditch by the side of the road. Seconds later flashing blue lights appeared in the road ahead as a police car raced past. Waiting a few moments he pulled her up again and they ran along the road, the houses getting closer. By now Alex’s head was pounding so much she could barely stay upright, and she felt as if she was in one of those bad dreams where she was trying to run away from monsters, but her legs wouldn’t work properly.

More howling came, closer now. Falk turned, eyes trying to pierce the darkness. The houses were just up ahead and he pulled Alex forwards towards one of them. They crossed the street, scrambling across the pavement and through a gate into the front garden. Opening the door he pushed Alex through and shouted “upstairs.” Turning he saw two wolves coming up the road, dark shadows loping quickly towards them. Slamming the door he followed Alex up. “Left” he shouted and Alex stumbled blindly through the door finding herself in a bedroom, and before she could react she had stumbled onto the bed. Falk burst through behind her, eyes wild with disbelief as he took in the empty bedroom. Where the hell was Nicola?

Behind him, Alex heard the crash of splintering wood as the front door was smashed off its hinges, and then the sound of something big and heavy padding up the stairs, and as Falk leapt onto the bed and placed a hand on her forehead a wolf crashed into the room, its yellow eyes glinting malevolently.

With a single bound it arched through the air towards them, its jaws wide open, canines thrust forward. As Alex began to scream she felt a sudden whooshing in her head and a dazzling white light filled her senses and then, as her eyes flicked shut, everything disappeared and all that was left was silence.


*****


Vicky crashed through the hedge behind the cottage with Neil close on her heels. They ran round to the front door where, with trembling hands, Neil fumbled with the key and then they were inside. Slamming the door shut he turned and they stood in the darkness, panting heavily.

“What if he follows us?” said Vicky.

“I don’t think he will,” said Neil.

“You’ve still got it?”

Neil nodded and opened his hand. The key rested in his palm, its surface gleaming dully in reflected moonlight.

“Just what are you?” he asked, staring at it.

Vicky remembered the notebook which she still clutched in her hand. Slowly she moved her hand behind her back until she felt something solid. Lightly she dropped the book onto the chair praying it would not make a noise. Reaching back out with her hands she gingerly picked up the key.

“I’m not sure I like you having it now,” said Neil. “It’s dangerous!”

“It’s not dangerous,” replied Vicky. “Just magic.”

“Uh-uh. It’s dangerous. That man nearly broke your arm!”

“We were rescued weren’t we?” Vicky replied.

“For now,” said Neil. “But next time? He’ll come looking for it you know.”

“Then we have to be cleverer,” said Vicky.

At that moment car headlights began to light the road outside.

“Mum and Dad,” Vicky exclaimed.

“Let’s get inside.”

Neil opened the main door and disappeared into the lounge. Vicky turned and quickly stuffed the notebook down the side of the chair so it was out of sight. Just then their parents’ car swung round into the drive. Vicky slipped through into the lounge, closing the door quickly behind her.