by Jordan, G R
Lying beneath Austerley’s tarmac creature, Farthington’s human form produced a mobile phone from his garments, which had appeared on him out of nowhere as he shrunk. With the words “Put her on”, Farthington switched on loudspeaker mode and held the phone up.
For Kirkgordon, at this distance, the voice was faint but unmistakeable. It was Alana.
“C, do what they say. They have me. I don’t know where I am but it’s weird. Things I have never seen before. Help me, help me!”
Farthington switched off the mobile. “Time I was going,” he said.
“Austerley, let him go.”
There was a moment’s hesitation then Austerley felt the arrow point press in on his head. Releasing his hands from the ground, he muttered a few words and the tarmac creature broke apart over Farthington, who stood up and shook himself down. Taking a piece of chalk from his pocket, he drew a complex symbol on the ground and stood on it.
“So nice to see you all again. Don’t follow me!” And he vanished into the ground. Havers, lying on his back, knocked Calandra’s staff aside and made as quick a pace as he could to the symbol.
“Follow him! We need to follow him.”
Just as he reached the spot on the ground, a nightgaunt, a jet black creature with wings, legs, torso and head but no eyes or mouth, sprang out of the hole. It rubbed the symbol away before flying off into the sky.
“You,” said Havers, pointing at Kirkgordon. “You let him go. You’ll accompany me back to HQ and we’ll sort out how you follow orders.”
Kirkgordon completely ignored Havers and called Calandra to him.
“Did you hear me, Kirkgordon?” asked Havers.
“Excuse me, but there is a fatherless child that needs us. As for you and your games, don’t even speak to me. Just don’t speak.”
Back in the USSR
Do you remember the last time? We damn well near got roasted.” Calandra had her hand on Kirkgordon’s shoulder and could feel the tension. Gently she rubbed the muscles that ran to the base of his neck. To many others this would have seemed like the touch of a would-be lover but she tried to see the relationship more like sister and brother. Calandra saw how he looked at her at times, with a hunger that she felt too, but his choice of partner was always Alana. And now Alana was a hostage and Calandra would help him win her back.
“Too well, Cally, too well. Always hauling Austerley’s fat arse around.” Kirkgordon spat on the ground and surveyed the Russian countryside. He remembered the place far too well. It was here that Farthington had first revealed himself as Zmey Gorynych, the dragon. Here, where a car door had been the only thing between Austerley and himself and a rapid cremation. And here where Calandra, after fighting off many nightgaunts, had provided an exit by drawing that peculiar symbol on the ground.
“How did you know the exit was still open?” Calandra continued to rub his shoulders, the knots evident.
Thinking back, Kirkgordon could still visualize the nightgaunts emerging from the portal and racing to attack Calandra and himself. “Havers. He spoke to the FSB, who had kept an eye on it. Many things have come out of it since and they reckon it’s an active doorway. Well, we’ll find out.” Kirkgordon stared at the exit. He had seen his children only briefly before leaving them in the care of Alana’s mother. Someone has Mum. That was all he had told them. How could you explain all this nonsense anyway? Some things should be kept quiet, under the cover of government.
Havers had been awkward. The callous swine would have let Alana die to keep the whole thing quiet. But Kirkgordon had called “Ma’am”, SETAA’s real head. Her Majesty had understood that it may have been possible to silence Kirkgordon, but not before he could deliver enough evidence to the press to blow SETAA wide open. Kirkgordon was sure he detected some strain in her voice as “Ma’am” explained to Havers that Kirkgordon would be the operational head of a rescue mission. But her backing was important. Havers, although a ruthless bastard, was better as a colleague than as an enemy.
“How’s Nefol?” asked Kirkgordon.
“She’s good to go,” replied Calandra. “Poor girl took it hard, really hard. But she’s focused, not vengeful. I’ll keep her close to me, Churchy. She won’t let you down.” Calandra smiled at him. Her cold white flesh was hidden by her black jeans and leather jacket. He’s so distant, she thought. Alana has seeped into his skin.
“Keep her close. Father Jonah saved my life. I owe it to him.” Kirkgordon turned his eyes to the last member of his rescue squad. This one had taken a hell of a lot of persuading. “And how’s my partner? Still a stupid arse?” Austerley swore at him.
Calandra gently kissed the back of Kirkgordon’s neck. “Take it easy, you know you need him.” She heard him let out a breath, trying to release his anger at the man before him. “Austerley’s been suffering too. The foot he stole from Tania has gone completely black. Plus it’s smaller and unbalances him when he walks. I think, from what I know about the process he undertook, that some of Tania’s darkness transferred across in the foot. Austerley took her foot before Father Jonah had a chance to cleanse her.”
“So he’s now not only a nut job but also possessed in some way?”
“That’s a fair assumption.”
“Are you sure I need him?”
“Yes!” Calandra turned Kirkgordon to face her and looked deep into his eyes. “Churchy, we’ll get Alana back. If I have to rip hell apart, we’ll get her back. But Austerley knows these places. I have spent time in the other worlds but he is a map, an encyclopaedia of the bad lands. With his contacts, we have a chance to find her.”
Kirkgordon turned away but Calandra pulled him back. “Listen, Havers scoured the globe. I’ve seen him find anyone. He’s the best, and he found nothing. Farthington must have her in the other places. So now we go to them and find her. But you need Austerley. He is our compass. But you’re our captain. As for the rest of us, we’re just firepower.”
“I know,” he said, looking straight at her, “and thank you. I know you would like me to think of you the same way I think of her. And if I wasn’t with her I would be with you. So thank you.”
A tear slipped out from Calandra’s eye. It turned into a solid elongated piece of ice on her cheek.
“Black suits you, Cally. For someone so cold you look damn hot!” He kissed her forehead before turning to the small fleet of cars behind him.
“Mr Kirkgordon, are you ready?” Just for a moment, Kirkgordon thought that it was Havers. Instead, Wilson stood dressed in an impeccable suit, complete with open overcoat and bowler hat. “It does get damn chilly here in the Russian motherland.”
“Wilson! How’s the body? You took some pasting back on the English coast.”
There was just a momentary wince from the corner of his mouth before Wilson replied. “Tip top, sir, just tip top. Job to do, Queen and country, you know how it is. Besides, now that you are taking Major Havers with you, someone’s got to run the department while he’s gone. And do try not to piss him off in there. He’s been like the proverbial bear with a sore head back at HQ.”
“Well, I get that. He was very close to Father Jonah. I’d like nothing better than to take this dragon apart as well. Look, Wilson, thanks for organizing everything. I appreciate it. Havers has been a little cold since I spoke with your boss. Not used to little upstarts like myself.”
“I am sure I don’t need to remind you,” said Wilson, reminding Kirkgordon, “that she’s your boss too. All in the service of, my dear fellow, all in the service of.”
“Speaking of which, how is Miss Goodritch?”
There was not a flicker, not one hint of emotion. “I believe Miss Goodritch is recovering well after her exertions. Got a lot to thank her for, both of us. I believe she’s going to see Ma’am as well. Bit of the old keeping-it-under-the-nose conversation. I do believe Jane is quite excited.” And there it was. Just the merest curling up of the corners of the lips, a momentary demonstration of warmth.
“How did you sort o
ut Dillingham? I take it ‘Ma’am’ didn’t pay everyone a visit,” asked Kirkgordon.
“We have our ways, Mr Kirkgordon. Very convincing. You’d be surprised what you can achieve when everyone attends a town hall meeting.”
“What, do you just like mind zap them all?”
“Really, Mr Kirkgordon, how very Hollywood. You sound like a regular film buff. No, we do not ‘zap’ them, but we have some very talented personnel who can reach out to the masses. A way with words, shall we say?”
Kirkgordon saw a number of black-suited men beyond Wilson’s shoulder. From his years of protection work, Kirkgordon recognized the hardware beneath the jackets. “I take it they are not your people.”
“Oh, no. Common park thugs, by the look of it. Our dear friends in the FSB, while being most helpful of course, do like to show a little muscle on home turf. I suppose it’s their way of letting us know who is running the show. Well, as long as they think that, I guess it is all fine and dandy.”
Kirkgordon stepped away to check over his equipment one more time. Father Jonah’s cellar had been a mine of weaponry, and Kirkgordon now had a small backpack of items which he believed would prove extremely useful. Havers had tried to confiscate all the items but Kirkgordon had gone over his head to “Ma’am” again, building the icy wall between the two men even higher.
Satisfied that his pack was prepared, Kirkgordon slung it onto his back and approached Havers, who was talking to a bald man in military uniform with an array of medals hanging from his chest. Rather than engage whatever general Havers was talking to, Kirkgordon gave a small flick of his head indicating it was time to go.
The snow compacted beneath his boots. Kirkgordon relished the crunching sound, wondering if there would be any snow in the days ahead. He would be stepping into the dragon’s den, so to speak, and he was uneasy at leaving this world, where he felt he had a slight advantage. Who was to know what was lurking through the portal?
Austerley! Austerley would know. Through all the troubles of his recent past there had been one constant: Austerley. He needed the oaf to find Alana, needed to forge a working relationship again. For the sake of his wife and his children’s mother, he would once again have to partner and protect this madman. Walking over to Austerley, who sat on the snow looking at his new foot, Kirkgordon decided to reach out.
“Austerley, get off your fat arse and let’s get going. I don’t want you slowing us down.” Oh well, thought Kirkgordon, looks like I’ll need to work on my bonding techniques.
“It’s black, like bloody ebony. Who knows what that damn witch gave me?” moaned Austerley to the world in general.
It really is black, mused Kirkgordon. Not like the skin of someone on the equator. No, this was black, like evil. Undiluted evil, screaming its filth at you.
“Get your sock on and your backside into gear. It’s time to go.”
Austerley swore but began to haul himself to his feet. Kirkgordon called his team around him and they dropped into a loose formation. Calandra and Nefol went ahead at point, then Kirkgordon and Austerley side by side, leaving Havers to watch their rear. There was a sense of pride in his team, Kirkgordon realized, for they were survivors. But now was the time to let their pride go. They were about to see entirely new vistas and they needed to be quick learners if they wanted to return home.
Getting close to the portal, he saw a swirling mass of what could be stars. Calandra turned her head, waiting for the order, and Kirkgordon gave a nod.
“For Alana,” Calandra mouthed at him, and waited for his response.
“Thank you,” he mouthed back, and watched the black-garbed woman nod to Nefol. The woman and the girl stepped confidently together into the portal and vanished.
Kirkgordon turned to Austerley.
“Come on, Hopalong, it’s our turn to dance.”
A Small Request
Many thanks for taking the time to read “The Darkness at Dillingham” and I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did writing the story. As an Indie author, I am constantly seeking to make more people aware of my writing. As such I would ask that if you enjoyed “The Darkness at Dillingham” please leave a review so others will know about the dynamic that is the Austerley & Kirkgordon world. Here’s the link to the book’s page, the reviews are at the bottom with the button to make your own!
Kind regards,
Gary
Bonus Chapter: Chapter 1 of Dagon's Revenge, A&K #3
There was a soft crunch underfoot and Kirkgordon looked down to see charcoal soil beneath. Amongst the occasional rocks, long sprouts of wild grass were growing, or rather, existing, for the grass didn’t protrude like massed ranks of spearmen but instead had a lazy limpness to it. There were no trees, just miles of undulating small hills like those he had seen around Belfast. Drumlins, the good folk there called them, but their scenery was green and lush from the abundant rainfall. Here was just bleak.
Calandra’s black leather jacket and dark jeans made her almost fade into the scenery. He watched her survey the land, the ponytail of her long black hair waving from side to side. Her beauty was out of place here but he was glad to have her along for the ride. It wasn’t just her fighting skills, which were a match for anyone he knew, but also the comfort of a woman whom he fought hard to see as a close sister and not a potential lover. No matter the place, she always looked good.
“Does Mr Austerley know where we are?” asked Havers, letting Kirkgordon know that his whole party had crossed through the portal from the Russian countryside to… to… well, to here, wherever here was.
“Give me a minute,” grunted Austerley. “Only just bloody arrived.”
“Nefol, Cally – do a little scout and come back in five minutes. See if there’s anything around here,” ordered Kirkgordon.
“Or anyone,” said Havers.
Nefol, though only a slip of a girl at twelve years of age, nodded with a grimness that a child of her age should not possess. Although she was “functioning well” in Calandra’s words, it was evident that her father’s death was taking its toll. Kirkgordon had watched Father Jonah be burnt to ashes by Farthington’s breath, and he still struggled to shake the image. But she didn’t seem to have vengeance on her mind. Unlike Havers.
“Mr Kirkgordon, how do you intend to find our target if we don’t know where we are?”
Havers hadn’t been impressed when Ma’am gave me control of this mission, thought Kirkgordon. And he’s going to snipe whenever he can. “Since when is Farthington our target, Mr Havers?” Kirkgordon sniggered to himself. Major Havers hated to be called a Mister. “This is a rescue mission for Alana. The moment we get her, we leave. It’s my call all the way, Mr Havers. Remember that.”
“And you remember what that bastard dragon did to the priest.” Havers stepped away, pretending to survey the local area. Austerley tapped Kirkgordon on the shoulder.
“Getting out of here soon-as is a good idea, Churchy. I think I know where we are but I’m not one hundred percent certain. Look how wasted everything is. This place has seen the Elders at some point. This decay isn’t natural.”
“Indy, I just walked through a portal from Russia to here. I kinda left natural behind. Anyway, maybe when daytime comes it’ll be easier.”
“Churchy, this is daytime!”
“What?” Kirkgordon looked around. “But it’s so dark.”
“Can you feel the thickness in the air? Even that is decayed, full of pollution. I think nightfall is going to bring a proper darkness.”
“How’s the foot?” asked Kirkgordon, looking at the booted appendage.
“Sore. And too small. But there’s something else.”
Hell, thought Kirkgordon, this won’t be good. First he loses his foot, blaming me for pinning it with an arrow before Farthington ripped it off his leg. Then he somehow magics a foot off a witch but it’s too small and has gone ebony black as it’s full of evil. Now what?
“The foot has been tingling,” said Austerley, “ever since we a
rrived. Just tingling.”
“Which means?”
“How should I know, Churchy? It’s my first evil foot, dammit.”
“So, where are we?” asked Kirkgordon, trying to give Austerley a chance to talk about something he did know.
“Well, it’s hard to say in English, there’s no translation. Closest is probably the Nether Lands.”
“Holland? How is this Holland?”
“Hardly. In the scrolls buried deep in the vaults of the St Basil church of the Nazarene, deep set into the Andes, the name given is—”
Kirkgordon heard the noises but they were not like any language he knew. Deciding not to ask for a linguistics lesson from Austerley, Kirkgordon changed tactics.
“So you know about this place. Good, Indy, we’re going to need it. What can you tell me about it?”
“Not much,” said Austerley, and Kirkgordon’s face fell. “But I wouldn’t holiday here.”
But Austerley would go anywhere to look at this occult stuff, thought Kirkgordon. We must be in trouble.
Calandra emerged from behind a small hillock and raced up to Kirkgordon.
“Time to move, Churchy. There’s a whole horde of… of… well, a whole horde of something coming along a road just over there. And I think they will be passing right by us.”
“Get Nefol, Cally. Havers, we’re moving out.”
Three people glided quickly and quietly across the barren terrain to lie behind a small hump by the road. One other followed, hauling a large man in an awkward fashion. The man being dragged emitted grunts and expletives as they travelled.
So much for the road, thought Kirkgordon. A track was probably a better description, as only a slight wearing of the ground indicated the path. But he could hear footsteps coming. Well, he could hear something coming. There was a noise and it included multiple sounds, but not footsteps. Hiding behind the hump, Kirkgordon signalled his team to have their weapons at the ready before taking an arrow from his quiver. The markings on the feathers told him its function, and he smiled at the idea that presented itself. He recognized the sound coming. He could hear hopping.
