The Fifth: Darkness series

by K. D Rawlingson

  A few lights were shining in the windows of the building untouched or too far in the distance for me to see the damage. I had no words for what I was seeing I just felt shocked.

  The river looked to be the only thing in tacked, unchanged, I walked along the river bank with the street lights guiding my way, some had been smashed and weren't working but enough had been left alone to light my way. I saw no one but heard screams and gunfire as if it was surrounding me. I thought it might be coming from across the river and the water was playing tricks on my ears but had no way of knowing for sure. Fires blazed everywhere I looked and the irony hadn't been lost on me that I was standing next to a river.

  The sky opened up and it began raining I sighed hoping it would help stall the raging fires sweeping from building to building. My relief was short lived because with the rain came an almighty crashing of thunder. I knew with thunder came lightning and I was standing out in the open. I had a weird thing about being struck by lightning, looking around I was trying to find a bit of shelter when everything went dark. The street lamp I was standing underwent out along with every other light I could see.

  There had been no sudden bang or noise to indicate it was going to happen, I wondered for a second if I had switched dreams again but I was still getting soaked by the rain and could still hear the sound of the river next to me. Had the whole of London just had a power cut? It was the only thing I could think of to explain why everything had just gone dark.

  The light from the fires across the city glowed more brightly now they were the only things granting light. Looking across the river Thames I wondered for the hundredth time what the hell was happening. A bolt of lightning shot through the sky then moments later another crash of thunder, followed by more lightning. This was going to be a heavy storm and regardless of if I was dreaming or not I was definitely getting soaking wet and I was starting to shiver with the cold. I needed to get somewhere safe and dry, with a plan in mind I took a step to find shelter and everything started spinning again.

  It felt like I had been picked up in Dorothy's tornado from the Wizard of Oz and I was at the very centre unable to break free or wake up. When the spinning stopped, I felt so cold but not like the cold I had felt with the rain and realised I was dry. I tried to get my bearing but couldn't see a damn thing. I had a growing feeling that I was in a really horrible place like in a dungeon or the bottom of a hole, even though I couldn't see, I could feel what felt like stone or concrete under my feet. This was not like where I was just before. I was scared but had no idea what I should be afraid of. I closed my eyes and wished to go back to that beautiful beach I'd been before. This was my own head, after all, my own dream or if I couldn't go there could I at least wake the fuck up.

  My head started spinning or maybe it was the room but either way, it was making me dizzy and I felt sick. My head hurt and my eyes felt sore like I had been crying. I knelt down hoping that it would help. I didn't like this. I wanted to wake up, I tried to pinch myself but nothing happened I tried again only harder, nothing only it bloody hurt. I tried closing my eyes and wishing to wake up. Nope, what the fuck was going on? This was beyond weird. I was getting pretty fucking pissed off, what was my brain trying to do to me. I no longer felt like I was dreaming but more like I was trapped in some nightmare. Had I just shut down? Was this me going mental? Had losing my husband and child in a week of each other just been too much for me to handle and the switch had been flicked and now I had lost it completely? Because I had no idea what the hell was going on.

  I often dreamt not always remembering what It was I had been dreaming about but when I did remember, it was more than likely some version or another of me flying or being able to jump great distances. Other times I dreamt I was stronger than everybody else or could move incredibly fast I had no idea why I dreamt those things maybe my sub-conscious had a secret passion to fly? or to be some kind of hero, fuck knows but I had never had anything like this happen before.

  There was nothing to see here there was no light. Feeling totally dejected I slumped to the floor ready to just give up and wait till I woke up or moved dreams when my hand touched something, I lifted it up to see what it was and thankfully my eyes must be adjusting to the darkness because somehow, I could make out it was a small candle. It would only last a little while but hope surged through me and also a sense of déjà vu but as this was only a dream and I was pretty certain I'd never had it before, I let it go and concentrated on the candle in my hands If, there was a candle maybe there was some matches or a lighter about? Feeling where the candle had been my hand brushed against a small box. With hope, I brought it up to my eye and it was indeed a box of matches. Well, I say box when I opened it there was only one match. Meaning only one chance to light the wick. I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths trying to stop my hand shaking from the cold. Opening my eyes, I held my breath and struck the match, carefully lighting the candle. A small ball of light graced my presence not enough to light the room but enough that I noticed a mouldy mattress on the floor next to me, that the room was round with a door to the far left. For some reason, the door scared the shit out of me and the moment I looked at it my breathing started going into some kind of panic mode so instead of venturing out it I stayed exactly where I was, only after a while the floor got so cold I had to move slightly and sat on the edge of the disgusting mattress. I tried to work out what was going on but had no bloody clue.

  I was so cold, I looked down and I was in a pair of dirty trousers that had been slashed and ripped, I had some kind of t-shirt on which was also ripped and nothing on my feet. No wonder I was cold. I pulled my knees up to my chest to try and get a bit warmer but it didn't help I sat there staring at the door. I knew I had to go through it, but I didn't want to. Why I had to go through, I had no clue, Why I didn't want to was, because I was scared shitless, but why? Again, I had no clue. Only a certainty deep in my gut that whatever was behind that door was beyond horrible.

  Arghhh! I wanted to scream I wanted to wake up. I wanted my Ryan and my darling boy Thomas but knowing that was impossible I at least wanted to go back to that beach place I had been before. but no, for some reason I was stuck in some cold, scary arse place, too afraid to walk through a bloody door. I sat staring at the door trying to pluck up the courage to go through it so much so that before I knew what I was doing I had memorized that door down to every last grain of the wood. It was massive at least 7-foot-tall with 9 big square panels, it looked to be made of dark wood, with a big metal knob for a handle. Reminding me of a door you would have seen at the entrance to a hall in a castle. It looked so out of place in this room.

  A scream brought me out of my thoughts of how strange the door was or maybe my avoidance to go through it. I jumped up not knowing what to do but with the knowledge that it was the first person I had heard here and I wasn't alone. When they screamed again I froze wishing I was back to being on my own. I knew that scream I had grown up listening to a much happier version of it, running around and playing. The only time I'd ever heard him scream like that was when we had been about 7 and 8. Sol had taken me to a rope swing he had found, it was on some land at the back of a big industrial place we lived near. At the very back, over the years the piece of land behind had turned into a little bit of woods but it was really just a few trees with lots and lots of overgrown bushes with big fuck off thorns. It had been gated off and was not in use other than to throw rubbish away there. Some older kids had found a way in and were using it as a cut through to get to the cinema in the industrial park.

  Over time they got an old sofa someone had thrown away and made a bit of a camp on one side of the thorns away from prying eyes, they had rigged up a rope swing on one of the trees. They would use it to swing over the thorns to the camp. One of Sol’s friends had told him about it at school and he’d wanted to go there. The tree was quite high, too high for Sol on his own and he had come and found me.

  I would give him a bunk up, he would climb the tree and get me
to pass him the swing. He would help me up the tree then, he was supposed to swing over all the thorns and land on the other side, throw the swing back so I could have a go and we could both play in the camp. Only it hadn't worked out like that. Sol had climbed up the tree, I passed him the swing but he hadn't waited for me and just got on and swung down. The rope hadn't been strong enough or had been used too many times probably why the other kids weren't playing on it, but whatever the reason the rope snapped sending Sol right into the middle of all the thorny overgrown bushes. He screamed like I'd never heard anybody scream before, not only had he fractured two ribs but the thorns had ripped him to shreds while he tried to climb out, he had only a pair of shorts and a vest top on. Sol had to spend two weeks in the hospital recovering. That was the scream I was hearing now. I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that was Sol's voice. Forgetting the fear of what was behind the door I race to open it to get out of this room and to Sol, but just moments away from touching the handle of the door, I was pulled back so suddenly from my neck. I landed back on my bum coughing and sputtering.

  What the hell with shaking hands and a dreaded feeling I knew exactly what I was going to find I put my hands around my neck, I was right even though I really didn't want to be. There was a fucking chain around it.

  How the hell hadn't I felt it before. My mind raced, was I a prisoner? Is that why I was so scared? I tried to feel for some kind of lock or pin that would open it but, couldn't find anything. The collar around my neck wasn't particularly thick or didn't feel to be but there was no way I could pry it open, even though I tried. I tried tracing the chain back to where It was fastened by the mouldy mattress, bringing the candle to light the way I could make out a large silver plate with a metal ring attached and the chain attached to that. What the fuck I was tied up like some kind of animal. How had I not noticed it, I had sat there on that dam mattress right next to it, for fuck sake, it was around my neck.

  Now I knew it was there I could feel it digging into my neck. Not that it weighed a lot more like from a constant rubbing. I used every bit of strength I possessed and tried pulling at the ring. It didn't budge. I tried shaking it, biting it, smashing it on the floor, I tried prying it open with my teeth. I couldn't see any lock so I had no idea how whoever had put me here had fastened it together.

  Sol screamed again with so much pain laced within it. I screamed his name back at the top of my lungs “SOOOOLLLLLLLLL.”

  Suddenly I woke up with Sol's name still on my lips. I looked around confused trying to get my bearings, the sun was streaming in through the window lighting the whole room up to its morning rays but I was freezing cold.

  I was in Susanne and Eric's house in front of a gone-out fire, in the same place I must have fallen asleep in. Bert was laid in front of me. I stroked him he didn't wake but his breathing was steadier than last night. Peering down at myself I must have looked a mess I was covered in dirt and blood. My clothes had dried mostly on the outside from the heat of the fire but inside I was sticky and wet from the nightmare I had just woken from. My teeth chattered from the cold. But I couldn't shake off the dream I'd just had. It had felt so real Sol's screams were still ringing in my ear. I needed to speak to him.

  I got up from my crumpled mess on the floor to get the phone and prayed to God that he answered. I dialled his number held it to my ear but there was no dial tone no ringing I looked at the phone and saw there was nothing on the screen I had been so pre-occupied by the dream I hadn't even realised. Maybe the plug had come out? I went to look but when I found it still plugged in and turned on a shudder slid down my spine and a niggle of unease starting to fill my stomach.

  I tried the light switch nothing, so I tried the TV still nothing. How the hell had I dreamt last night that the power had gone out to waking up this morning with no power? Pacing the kitchen my brain was in a complete mess, too many thoughts swirled around my head that I couldn't latch on to any one thing. For fuck sake, I had buried my son less than 24 hours ago, had to dig the grave myself. Been attacked twice, compared to the pain I was feeling about Thomas and Ryan that was nothing I almost wish it succeeded in killing me if, that had been his aim, it had sure look like it but self-preservation had kicked in.

  Poor Bert was hurt. Fucking bastard no I'm glad I killed the fucker and not the other way around. Bert looked better this morning but I doubted we were out of the woods yet now I had to deal with the strangest dream I'd ever had. Was Sol ok? Was I going mad? How had I dreamt about the power? I knew in the back of my mind there was a possible answer but it was too outrageous, too stupid to comprehend that I refused to go there refused to look after all I wasn't really to be expected to be thinking straight. Last night’s dream had been a coincidence. Sol was fine. My inner thoughts tried to argue with me, screamed for me listen but I refused to take heed. The realistic part of my brain taking over, drowning the other voice out. There was a reason for it all and that was that. What I needed was get out these clothes and have a shower. I made sure Bert was ok first he was still sleeping and thankfully the bleeding had stopped so, I would try not to worry too much until after 18-24 hours if he still hadn't woken up by then that's when I had a real problem.

  With the state of my clothes to the emptiness in my heart, I felt like a walking zombie a shower would do me good. I turned on the water and stripped out of my filthy clothes and stepped into the shower “SHIT” I hadn't tested the temperature the water was bloody freezing.

  Face planting it dawned on me no electricity, no hot water. I hoped the power being out wasn't going to be a long-term thing but what did I know? At this point absolutely, nothing. Sapped of any energy the thought of a shower had given me I quickly washed in cold water. After I put some clean clothes on and set about relighting the fire, I had no aspiration or energy to do so but after waking up cold, washing in freezing water I was cold all the way down to my bones. Even that wasn't enough to stir the desire to get warm but one look at Bert laying in a cold room and I set to work.

  Once the task was completed I heated some water in a copper teapot I’d found in one of the kitchen cupboards and found some fresh bandages. When the whistle signalled the water was ready I made myself a cup of strong black coffee and set about cleaning Bert’s wounds, it took longer than I thought. He stirred several times when I got to the gash on his leg up by his belly but didn’t wake.

  Over the next few days, I lent myself the resigned task of keeping the fire alight. My mood was sombre, to say the least. My grief for Thomas and Ryan kept me in constant pain but equally numb and lifeless. I had gone from moments of such anger and despair had, on more than one or two occasions smashed ornaments, plates, objects in my way, to moments of unbearable sadness crying so hard from being so broken deep within, so lost and alone. I wanted nothing more than to curl into a ball and stay like that.

  Chapter 10:

  We were in mid-June but the weather was more like the middle of November. For the following few days after losing Thomas the weather was atrocious, rain the size of golf balls and ferocious gusts of winds battered the countryside which I suppose was not that uncommon for English weather but the days were beginning to feel shorter or maybe it was the constant dark clouds above making it feel that way.

  I had been holed up in the house for over a week since losing Thomas only venturing out once and while my grief for him hadn't lessened. I could no longer quite the voices in my head. One of them had been how the horses were? I had no idea how to care for them but with the storm raging as angrily as it was for as long as it was, my worry for them over rid any feelings I had to just curl up and stay like that. I laid new straw down, refilled their water and feed and gave each one a quick brush. Even so, that had taken most of the day and by the time I had got back to the house I was knackered. Surprisingly Bert had woken up and greeted me at the door.

  Thankfully Bert started making progress and as the days went on with his rejuvenation came mine. That's not to say I felt like singing or skipping up the road. But ge
tting Bert better had given me a reason to keep getting up and putting one foot in front of the other. My worry for him continued but it eased somewhat at seeing him up and about, even if he was heavily limping it was better than him laying by the fire for days hardly moving at all.

  The power still hadn't come on which I almost knew was going to happen. Everything was beginning to point to the end, that humankind had been working its way to this point for quite some time now and that one way or another, things had changed irrevocably.

  I found I was growing increasingly more frustrated, angrier, they joined with the sadness and pain that had infiltrated my mind, body, and soul. The last week had been the hardest of my life. I was a mess going from one emotion to another. I was sure I was developing some kind of split personality as I was in total contradiction with myself while one half of me felt like I was numb and lifeless the other half of me felt like I was searing in pain, Anger boiling up from within about to explode at any minute. I had waring emotions each pulling me in different directions.

  I hadn't sleep properly since that horrible nightmare but wanted to sleep so badly just so I could escape back to that wonderful beach and see my beautiful boys. Neither dream nor nightmare had come back in the few hours each night my mind and body had finally shut down and allowed me to rest.

  I had heard nothing from Sol or Susanne and Eric. But then how could I with no power for the phone. I had spent another day feeling alone, lost in wave after wave of unbearable grief wanting to turn back time, wishing praying for my boys back. I was trying to function trying to keep myself going, Bert’s recovery helped. but only so much

  It had all become too much after hours of crying something snapped, it was like a mist came over me a searing anger violent uncontrollable, I'd had bursts of this feeling over the last week but had rained it in, had pulled back and told myself that was not the way but I could no longer contain it. I had gotten up to get some tissues and a glass of water when the next thing I knew the glass was smashed on the wall opposite. Before I could stop myself, I had pulled all the glasses out of the cupboard and smashed them on the floor screaming my lungs out in the process. It felt therapeutic like I had needed to let this out. That holding all this rage in had not been such a good idea. I went completely wild picked up everything that was not bolted to the kitchen floor and destroyed it. Ripped cushions off the sofa in my little nook and slashed at them with a knife, I couldn’t even remember picking a knife up but I had and used it to decimate the sofa. I pulled the TV off the wall picked it back up and threw it back on the floor over and over until it was unrecognizable, kicked hole after hole in the cupboard doors.