Within Darkness

by C J M Naylor

  “Well,” I said, “I need you to at least tell me everything you do know. I need to know if my mother is alive. I need to know if my aunt is alive. I need to know who to be on the lookout for. Did you even know my mother supposedly had twins? I need to know something. Anything.”

  “I didn’t know about the twins,” Elijah answered, “but I did know about their plot to switch places that night. Eleanor is dead. She died on the bridge that night. As for your mother, I have not had any contact with her since that night. It was the perfect scenario for her, as Eleanor had broken away from our family years prior. She ceased all contact with our family, so for your mother to assume her place, would be the perfect way to hide herself from the Timekeeping world.”

  “Do you think she knows?” I asked him. “Do you think she knows everything is falling apart? Do you have any kind of powers with her?” I told him what we had found out about telepathy.

  “Your mother and Eleanor had that power,” Elijah confirmed, “but I did not. They were identical twins, whereas I was a fraternal twin. I was never supposed to be born, at least that is what my mother always said. She even hinted that she had considered drowning me shortly after my birth, but she thought she might keep me around for later use.”

  I was taken aback at what he was saying. He was talking about my grandmother, and from what he was saying, she sounded like the exact opposite of anyone I’d ever want to meet. She sounded like Bessie.

  “Did my mother tell you anything else?” I asked. “Did she give you any other instructions when you spoke with her?”

  Elijah shook his head again. “Your mother told me nothing else. However, there is more you need to know about my family. We are not good people, Abigail. Our mother, she is the exact opposite of what a mother should be. And I know she is behind this. She knows you exist, and she will stop at nothing—”

  The door to the hallway opened and Councilor Headrick appeared in the doorway.

  “Jane,” she said, “I’ve been looking for you. We are about to begin the initiation ceremony.”

  She looked beyond Thomas at Elijah.

  “And who is this?”

  “Matthew Conway,” Elijah said, his British accident suddenly replaced with an American one. “I’m one of the historians here at the American Headquarters.”

  “And do you have your invitation, Mr. Conway?” Headrick asked.

  “I’m afraid not,” Elijah responded, “I assumed all who worked at the Headquarters were invited.”

  “Unfortunately not,” Headrick responded. “Only those with invitations may attend the balls. Please return to your post and resume your duties. Jane. Jordan. Follow me.”

  Thomas and Headrick began to walk out of the hallway, but I hesitated, remaining where I stood. Headrick, sensing that I wasn’t following, turned around and raised an eyebrow.

  “Jordan,” Headrick said, “the initiation is about to begin.”

  “Yes,” I responded, “but I was wondering if I could speak with Mr. Conway a moment longer?”

  Headrick stepped forward, stopping a mere inch from my face. I could feel the warmth of breath as she spoke.

  “Again, Jordan,” she said, “you seem to lack the understanding of when an order is given. Now, go.”

  I did as I was told, not knowing when, or even if, I’d have the chance to see Elijah again.

  The rest of the evening took place as it had at my own ball, with the exception of a public, violent murder of a Timekeeping official, of course. Alma was called up to the stage and Headrick initiated her into the world of Timekeeping with Thomas and her parents by her side. She received her very own pocket watch, and she became a fully initiated Timekeeper. Afterwards, dancing commenced again. It was interesting to see the aftermath of the ceremony as I had obviously not been conscious for the rest of my own.

  After speaking with Alma and her family, Thomas broke away and was now walking toward me. He seemed intent on getting to me and would not allow anyone to distract him. One person even stopped him to engage in conversation, but he said something to them and then continued on his trek toward me. When he reached me, he held out his hand, which I took, and we were dancing again.

  I leaned in close to him and put my arms around his neck, placing my head against his shoulder.

  “Is it wrong that I have feelings for you, but also for Phillip?” I asked.

  “No,” he responded. “In fact, I think I would be a little worried if you didn’t have those feelings. I think that’s what makes you human.”

  I lifted my head and looked into his eyes. They were eyes I could get lost in. They were eyes I could trust. I wondered, if maybe I took the time to fully look into a person’s eyes, if I could see from the get-go whether it would be worth it to trust them. Worth it to begin a relationship with them.

  “I think I’m falling for you, Thomas Jane.”

  He grinned. “And I think I’m falling for you, Abigail Jordan. I’ve never felt like this. I’ve never wanted this. Not until I met you.”

  I rested my head against his chest, his arm holding me around my waist, pulling me close to him.

  “I wish it could be like this forever,” I said. “I wish this moment could last forever. In the last year, everything in my life has changed. And I have a strong feeling it’s all about to change again.”

  We danced like that for a while. Him holding me. Me holding him. But what finally broke us apart was when I saw Ian. He was at the other end of the ballroom, in a corner. And he was talking to Headrick.

  “Thomas,” I said. “Ian and Headrick seem to be having quite the conversation.”

  Thomas let go of me, turned around, and looked to where I had gestured.

  “I still can’t believe what he said about Mathias,” I said. “Mathias trusted him. He didn’t deserve what Ian did to him.”

  I didn’t trust Ian. I couldn’t. And then I remembered his locked bedroom, and I wondered what was in there that he didn’t want people to see. Tonight might be the only time I could get in there while he was away. I pondered the idea for a moment, and then decided I would give it a try.

  “Thomas, I need to go home and do a few things.”

  Thomas looked back at me, raising his eyebrows.

  “What are you thinking?” he asked.

  “I’m thinking I’m ready for some answers.”

  “Abby, please be careful with whatever it is you are planning to do.”

  I nodded. “I will be.”

  I was done playing games. Ian wasn’t who I thought he was, and it was time I proved it. Once at the Chambord Building, I made my way up to our apartment, unlocking the door and slamming it behind me, locking it as I did. I made my way to Ian’s bedroom door and jiggled the handle. It was still locked, but I knew I could get around that. I found a bobby pin in my room and twisted it, turning it into a key that I would use to unlock the door. After only a moment or two, I had the door unlocked and Ian’s room was before me. I shut the door behind me.

  His room was surprisingly tidy. His bed was made, and there really wasn’t much in the way of personal possessions. I went straight to his closet, and upon opening the door, I found all of his clothes, hanging neatly, and at the bottom, a shoebox. Kneeling down to the floor, I lifted the lid off of the shoebox.

  Inside the shoebox were letters. The letters I had left for Ian to mail Mathias, tucked carefully inside. But that wasn’t it. In addition to my letters, there were unopened letters from Mathias as well. I also found the pocket watch Bessie had given me, the one I now assumed was my aunt’s. I quickly pocketed it.

  A clicking sound came from the door to Ian’s room and then the door opened. Before I could stand up, before I could defend myself, before I could even move away from the box, Ian was running into the room and dragging me by my hair across the floor. I cried out in pain. It felt like he was going to pull the hair out of my head. After he had dragged me away from the box, he picked me up and threw me on the bed. I began to push myself up, screamin
g as I did, but he was on top of me before I could get up any further, his mouth inches away from mine. I closed my eyes, hoping he would stop, continuing to scream for help, until he clasped his hand down over my mouth, muffling my screams. Because he was so close to my face, I could smell his breath, his dinner. It sent chills down my body. He grabbed my face and forced me to look at him, but I kept my eyes closed. At least I tried to until he used his other hand to pry my eyelids open so that I could see him. The force of his body on top of mine was keeping me pinned to the bed.

  “Oh, the things I’d like to do to you,” he said, smiling. “Unfortunately, I have eyes only for your sister, and despite my ulterior motives, I am a faithful man.” He reached ahead of me and grabbed one of his pillows, taking off the pillowcase, and then he flipped me over and tied my hands. His strength continued to keep me pinned to the bed, and even if it hadn’t, I honestly wondered if I would be able to do anything more anyway. I felt frozen, almost outside of my body. And my mind was racing because he had mentioned my sister. I was right all along. He did know her. He had thought I was her that day in the library. He used another pillowcase to tie up my feet as well. He finally climbed off the bed to observe his work; that smug smile that had been painted on his face earlier was still there as he looked down at me.

  “Go ahead and scream again if you want,” Ian said. “It will fit my narrative as you called it. I will be calling Bridget in a bit, telling her how you’ve lost your mind, how you made a mess of our kitchen by throwing things at the walls, and how I had to restrain you. And then we will call Aldridge and have you taken away.”

  Ian stepped forward and gripped my hair again, pulling me off of the bed and out into the hallway. I screamed in pain but Ian didn’t care as he pulled me down the hall, knocking my body into the walls as he did. He jerked me into the living room, and then into the kitchen, leaving me in the middle of the floor. He threw open cabinets and began throwing plates against the wall. They smashed into thousands of pieces.

  “Wise plan,” Ian said, “leaving the ball early. Hoping to avoid me, and coming back here to sneak into my room. Unfortunately for you, I’ve always been pretty perceptive. You can’t throw me off, Abigail. I’ve always been, and will always be, two steps ahead. Every. Single. Time.”

  I didn’t respond.

  He looked at me for a moment and then smiled again. “You didn’t think I would hurt you, did you? You had your suspicions about me, but you honestly believed I wouldn’t hurt you. Damn, Abigail. You really are too trusting.”

  Ian walked over to the phone and began dialing. I assumed he was calling Bridget at work. She didn’t have class today.

  “Hey, Bridge,” Ian said.

  “Don’t listen to him,” I shouted. “He’s lying.”

  “Yeah,” he said, “she’s freaking out. She’s throwing things against the wall. Please come home. I don’t know what to do.”

  I continued to scream and scream, but Ian hung up the phone and made his way toward the cabinet, opening it up and pulling out an unmarked bottle.

  “Perhaps you’d like some tea?” he asked me.

  He opened the bottle and then reached into his pocket and pulled out a syringe.

  “I think we’re out though,” he continued. “But this will do just fine. It’s my secret ingredient.”

  And then it hit me. He’d been drugging me the entire time. He was putting whatever was in the container in my tea. I thought back to all of my hallucinations, every time I saw something that wasn’t there. Every time, I had had tea. And Ian had made me the tea.

  “It was you,” I said. “You’ve caused the hallucinations. Why are you doing this?”

  “To finish what Bessie started,” he said, stepping toward me with the syringe. I began to push away from him, but he fell quickly to his knees and plunged the syringe into my neck.

  Immediately, everything started to become blurry and disjointed. I was conscious of the fact that Ian had untied me. And then I began to see things. I was in the kitchen, but there was water? I looked up to the ceiling and could see the Tower Bridge above me.

  A door was opening.

  “Where is she?”

  Bessie appeared before me and I lunged forward, putting my hands around her neck and pushing her to the ground.

  “I hate you!” I shouted at her. I began to choke the breath out of Bessie, waiting until I could see the whites of her eyes. And then there was a searing pain at the side of my head, and everything went dark.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  My mother stood before me. The two of us stood on the Golden Gate Bridge, her arm extended out toward me. As she had in my previous dreams, she wore that same white dress that blew in the wind with her hair.

  “Abigail.”

  “I don’t know what to do,” I told her. “Are you still alive? Are you out there? I have no idea how to stop any of them. What do I do?”

  She continued to extend her arm out in front of her, reaching for me, but she couldn’t reach me.

  “Abigail,” she said, “they are closing in. Be careful.”

  And then waves from the San Francisco Bay roared up and over the bridge and my mother disappeared beneath them.

  There was still darkness, but there was also a searing pain at the side of my head. It felt as if someone had hit me with something large, something metal. And then I opened my eyes, and had to adjust to the white, bright light that was shining down on me. I tried to think back to what had happened—to what I remembered before everything went black. Ian had been drugging me. He had been causing the hallucinations. He had been putting something in my tea, which I had so carelessly allowed him to make for me. Ian had said that Bridget was coming home and then I had seen Bessie. And then I made the connection. Oh God. Had I done something to Bridget? Had I confused her for Bessie because of the hallucinations? Because of whatever Ian had plunged into my neck with his syringe.

  As everything came back into focus, I tried to make sense of where I was. I realized I was no longer in our apartment. It looked like I was in some sort of hospital.

  “Hello, Abigail.”

  I turned my head to the sound of the voice—it was Dr. Aldridge. He was standing in the entryway of the room I was in. He looked as if he had been called in late in the evening and had haphazardly thrown some clothes on.

  “Doctor,” I said curtly.

  Dr. Aldridge stepped into the waiting room and took a seat next to me. He didn’t look at me right away—he just sat there, staring off into the distance, thinking perhaps.

  "Mr. Cross called me upon your arrival to the hospital tonight," he spoke. "He informed me of what happened, and as soon he told me, he wished he hadn't."

  “And what exactly did Ian tell you, Doctor?”

  “He said that you attacked him and Miss Ward in your home,” Aldridge answered. “He said that you threw Bridget to the floor. She has a mild head injury, and a small cut, but she will be okay.”

  “And did Ian tell you how he has been drugging me for the past four months?” I asked. “Did he tell you the name of the drug he’s been putting into my tea—the drug that has been inducing my hallucinations? Did he tell you about the drug he plunged into my neck tonight, only moments after calling Bridget home, telling her I had been causing a scene in the kitchen? Did he elaborate on any of that, Doctor?”

  Dr. Aldridge considered me. “Mr. Cross did mention you might say something along those lines. He told me you were accusing him of doing things before you began attacking him.”

  I looked away and laughed. I laughed and laughed and laughed. I had allowed Ian to trick me into this. He had probably been planning on me finding all of the information he had been hiding. It would only add to his story of me being a crazy person when it all came out.

  “You do know what this means, Abigail?”

  I looked back into Aldridge’s eyes. I did know what it meant. He was going to try and take me—to that place. My eyes shifted to the exit, and I thought about escaping
. I might be able to do it. Dr. Aldridge was an older man—I could probably outrun him if I needed to. But it was then that I saw another person—a woman. She was doing her best to look inconspicuous, but I could tell she was with him. Every few seconds or so, I caught her gaze veering into the waiting room, waiting to see if she needed to intervene. I wouldn't get out of here without fighting my way out, and I had no idea if I would win that fight. It might only make things worse.

  “I’m assuming I don’t have a choice in the matter,” I finally said to Aldridge.

  "I'm afraid not," he replied. "And I think it would be best if we were to leave now before your friend Bridget is all stitched up. I don't know how she'll take it."

  “Will she come visit though?” I asked.

  “No,” Aldridge said. “The facility doesn’t allow for visitors because of the—well because of the nature of the majority of its clients. But you won't be there forever, Abigail. We need to get you through this, and you'll be as good as new."

  This was exactly what Ian wanted. I had no idea whether Aldridge was in on it too, but I knew his statement, that this was temporary, wasn’t true. Even if Aldridge intended on my eventual release, Ian wouldn’t allow it. He would find some way for me to remain there until whatever plan he was concocting was completed.

  “Can I make a call before we go?”

  Aldridge smiled at that and then quickly shook his head. “I’m afraid not. You aren’t really in the position of making demands, Abigail.”

  Might as well go out with a bang. I began to scream.

  “Please, help me!” I shouted at the top of my longs. “Bridget! Bridget!”

  It was only moments before Bridget appeared in the doorway, but Aldridge’s assistant put a hand on her shoulder.

  “What are you doing to her?” she asked.

  “We need to take her, Miss Ward,” Aldridge responded. “I’m sorry.”