After Dark

by Mikey Campling

  The teenagers stared at him. In the children’s corner, a young mother grabbed her daughter by the hand and marched toward the exit. They weren’t the only ones to leave.

  The shopkeeper’s face hardened. “I think you’d better go,” he said.

  Johnny snorted. “Really? And we were just getting along so well.”

  The shopkeeper pointed to the door. “Out,” he said, “before I throw you out.”

  Johnny laughed. Go on, he thought, have a try. But no. The little man would be too easy. “All right,” he said, “I’m going.” He headed for the door, still chuckling under his breath. He opened the door then paused, studying the card attached to the glass. He smiled and turned back to the shopkeeper. “I see you close at five,” he said. He lowered his voice to a cold whisper. “Maybe I’ll drop by. We can carry on our friendly little chat.”

  The little man’s angry, florid cheeks were suddenly as pale as old paper. It was wonderful. Johnny sighed and waltzed out onto the crowded street. He hadn’t been interested in the books anyway. He’d only been loitering in the shop because he’d been able to peer out of the window and keep an eye on the famous steps to the Abbey.

  Now, he stretched his arms wide and yawned, enjoying the way the tourists skirted around him and averted their eyes. But that wouldn’t entertain him for long. He was bored. Tired of waiting. Where the hell was she? He needed to see her again, needed to fix her in his mind, to drink her in. He pictured her long dark hair, her brown eyes, her shyness when she’d seen him looking at her. She didn’t even know how desirable she was. She had no idea. No idea of the fire she’d started in his belly, the hunger that burned in his heart for her.

  Johnny licked his lips. She was so lucky. He’d chosen her. Chosen her above all others. But he couldn’t wait much longer. He crossed the street and leaned against the wall by the entrance to an alley. He’d watch from there.

  He glanced at the sky. It was starting to get dark. Surely she couldn’t be much longer. He looked up and down the narrow street. He couldn’t have missed her could he? No. Not her. She was special.

  And suddenly, there she was - sauntering down the steps, holding hands with her pathetic little boyfriend. Childish. But he’d show her what a real man could do. Oh yes. He’d show her soon enough.

  Johnny stayed close to the wall and stepped back into the alley until he was almost completely hidden. And he watched.

  ***

  Matt scrambled down the last few feet of bank and jumped down onto the beach. He turned and offered his hand to help Jen down.

  “I’m not helpless you know,” Jen said.

  “I know,” Matt said, “but I can be gentlemanly can’t I?”

  Jen laughed and took hold of his hand. She jumped down to join him, landing heavily and colliding with Matt, forcing him to wrap his arms around her to stop them from falling backward. Her warm body pressed hard against his. “Ooh,” she giggled. “Thank you kind sir.”

  Matt smiled. It hadn’t been easy to get down to this little, deserted, cove but Jen was right, there was something exciting about being so close to the sea, just the two of them. And if it put her in a romantic mood, then so much the better. “It’s my pleasure,” he said and lowered his head to kiss her.

  Jen pushed him away. “What the hell was that?”

  “What? I thought you...”

  “No,” Jen said. She looked from side to side. “Didn’t you hear it? It was like... growling or something.”

  Matt grinned. “My stomach I expect. I’m starving.”

  “No.” Jen stepped back from him and scanned the length of the tiny beach. “Where did it come from?”

  Matt shrugged. “I don’t know what-” And that was when he heard it. The long, low growl echoed across the empty beach. “Christ,” he hissed. “What was that?”

  “It came from over there,” Jen said, “by the cliffs.”

  Matt took her hand. “It’s probably just a stray dog,” he said.

  Jen looked left and right. If it was a dog, then there was certainly no sign of its owner. So it could be a stray. Unless... “Maybe it’s just got lost,” she said. “Or maybe it fell down the cliff. It could be hurt.”

  “Or it could be just a mangy old mutt,” Matt said. “We should steer well clear.”

  Jen shook her hand free from Matt’s. “No,” she said. “We should check it out.”

  “I don’t know, Jen,” Matt said. “I don’t like the sound of it. Maybe we should go back to the cottage.”

  Jen folded her arms and stared at him. “We’ve got to have a look. It’s the least we can do.”

  Matt pursed his lips. This was a bad idea. But Jen had always had a soft spot for dogs. If he let her down now, she’d never forgive him. “All right,” he said. “But we’d better be careful.”

  “OK,” Jen said. “It must be over there somewhere.” She pointed to a rocky outcrop at the base of the cliff.

  Matt nodded. He squared his shoulders and walked toward the rocks. Jen followed.

  Matt moved slowly, scanning the shadows, expecting at any moment to see a snarling Rottweiler leaping toward him. But there was nothing. He climbed up onto the slippery boulders and suddenly the growling grew louder. Matt froze. There, on the other side of the rocks, a dark shape lay on the sand near the cliff. Hell’s teeth, Matt thought, it’s enormous. The shape shifted and stirred. It raised its head. Yes, it was definitely a dog. Matt tensed, ready to run. But the dog didn’t get to its feet. It whined and let its head fall back onto the sand.

  Matt looked back to Jen. “You were right,” he said. “A dog. I think it’s injured. We should call someone.”

  Jen nodded and rummaged in her bag for her phone. “Damn,” she muttered. “No signal.”

  Matt tutted and took his phone from his pocket. “No, me neither.” He looked at Jen. “We’ll have to go back to town. We’ll call someone from there.”

  Jen climbed up onto the rock and stood next to him. She held onto his arm to keep her balance. The dog whined - a long mournful cry of pain. “Poor thing,” Jen said. “It sounds awful.”

  “I know,” Matt said, “but what can we do about it?”

  Jen looked out toward the sea. “We can’t leave it here.”

  “What?”

  She looked at Matt. “The tide’s coming in. If we leave it here, it’ll die.”

  “What else can we do?”

  “Let’s go and have a proper look.”

  Matt opened his mouth to complain, but Jen didn’t give him a chance. “Listen, maybe we can get it on its feet or something.”

  “Bloody hell,” Matt muttered. But he climbed down from the rocks and gave Jen a hand. Together, they walked slowly forward until they were standing over the dog. The creature didn’t even raise its head. It just lay still and let out a pathetic high-pitched whine.

  Matt put his arm around Jen’s shoulders. “There’s nothing we can do.”

  But Jen shrugged him off and knelt at the dog’s side. “It’s all right,” she murmured, “you’re all right.” She put her hand on its heaving chest and stroked its matted fur.

  Matt took a breath. “I think... I think we’re too late.”

  “No,” Jen said. “It’s not that bad.” She looked up at Matt. “We’ll have to take it into town.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding.”

  “No, Matt. I’m serious. If we leave it here, it’ll die.”

  Matt ran a hand across his eyes. “Jen,” he said, “it’s bloody huge. I can’t carry it up there. It was hard enough getting down.”

  Jen stood up. She bit her bottom lip, put her hands on her hips. “Then we’ll have to find another way. We’ll have to carry it between us. I’m not leaving it here. I’m just not.”

  Matt snorted in frustration. But there was no point arguing. He knew that tone of voice. Jen would not give in. “All right,” he said and unfastened his coat. He slipped it from his shoulders and held it out to Jen. “Here. See if we can get this underneath, li
ke a stretcher.”

  Jen took the coat and bent over the dog. She arranged the coat alongside the dog then slid her hand beneath it shoulders. Matt put his hands under the dog’s back, then together, they slid the dog onto the coat. It was easier than Matt had expected. The poor creature was little more than skin and bone.

  “You take the back end,” Matt said. They gathered the edges of the coat together above the dog and between them, they lifted their makeshift stretcher and set off across the beach, their feet sinking awkwardly into the damp sand. The dog grumbled a little, but it seemed content to lie still.

  Matt looked at Jen. “Don’t worry,” he said, “I’ll find a way up. We’ll manage. We’ll be fine.”

  ***

  Johnny had been cold at first. But not now.

  He wasn’t sure how long he’d been waiting for her to come back from the beach. He’d paced up and down the street, at least twenty times, scanning the steep slope below, checking for any paths that might let her slip past him. And all the while, the chill early evening air had plucked at his cheeks. But now she was back where he could see her, and all his worries were forgotten. Now, a savage warmth ran through his veins.

  “Welcome back, my sweet,” he whispered, and took a step sideways so he’d be hidden from view by a bus shelter.

  The boyfriend was still there though he wouldn’t be much of a problem. But there was something strange going on. Something unexpected. They’d brought something back from the beach, carrying it between them, and whatever it was they were struggling with it. It was large and hard to handle. Some piece of flotsam? Something valuable perhaps? It did happen on this beach from time to time. But then, you never knew what people would value. It could just as easily be some piece of driftwood they’d thought would look nice in their living room.

  It didn’t matter. In fact, it would work in his favor. He hadn’t quite decided when to make his move, but now they’d made themselves so easy to follow, he could afford to take his time.

  The girl staggered and the couple paused; talking or maybe arguing.

  “Come on,” Johnny murmured. “Get a move on.” He ran his hand across his mouth. It was time to find out where she lived.

  ***

  “Wait a sec,” Jen said. “I need to get my breath back.”

  “OK.” Matt looked up and down the deserted street and chewed the inside of his cheek. It had taken them a lot longer than he’d hoped to find a decent path back up the steep slope. And even then, it had been difficult to climb with the dead weight of the dog dangling and swaying between them. And the last few yards had been made harder by the failing light. Now, it was almost dark. And something about the street, something he couldn’t quite put his finger on, made his skin crawl.

  “Listen,” Matt said, “we can’t just stand here.”

  Jen exhaled. “Well, what shall we do then? It’s too late to call anyone isn’t it?”

  Matt shook his head. “It’s not too late. There’s bound to be someone - a vet or a dog warden or something. But I want to get moving.”

  “Shouldn’t we call from here - wait for someone to arrive?”

  “No,” Matt said. “It could take ages for someone to turn up. I’m not going to just hang around here. It’s getting dark and anyway, I’m freezing.”

  “So what are we going to do? Go back to the cottage?”

  Matt nodded. “We’ll have to. We’ll call from there. At least, we can wait in the warm.”

  “OK,” Jen said. “Let’s go for it.”

  THE CRESCENT, WHITBY

  Johnny pressed himself back against the high stone wall. They wouldn’t see him from this distance. They wouldn’t even look back. They were too busy fumbling with their keys and maneuvering their heavy bundle in through the door.

  Johnny smiled. A nice little house, he thought, and quiet neighborhood too. It was very promising. He waited until they’d shut the door behind them, then he pushed himself away from the wall and sauntered past the holiday cottage. The front door wasn’t ideal. It was overlooked by neighboring houses. But a lot of these little places had a back garden or a backyard. It was worth a look.

  He checked the street was clear then strolled to the corner and turned left. There. The entrance to a narrow alley. No doubt it ran along the backs of the houses. And the best thing about it–there wasn’t a street light in sight.

  ***

  As he led the way into the cottage, Matt fumbled for the switch and turned the light on.

  “Come on,” he said. “We’ll put the dog in the kitchen.”

  “All right,” Jen said, “whatever you think.” It wasn’t like her to blindly follow Matt’s lead, but now that they had made it back to the cottage, her tiredness and hunger had suddenly caught up with her. It seemed selfish, but all she wanted to do was sit down with a hot drink. No, she thought. We must sort the dog out first, then we can relax a bit.

  The cottage’s hallway was narrow and cluttered with antique furniture. The old-fashioned hat rack, the hall table, and the umbrella stand had seemed quaint at first, but now they were just in the way.

  “Careful,” Matt said.

  “I know,” Jen snapped. “Just look where you’re going.”

  Matt stumbled on the threshold as he crossed into the kitchen, and cursed under his breath. Still, at least, the kitchen was a decent size. They shuffled across the tiled floor and gently lowered the dog to the floor near the heater.

  The dog whimpered and rolled its eyes, then laid flat; still and listless on the cold floor.

  Matt and Jen stood side by side and looked down at the helpless creature.

  “I’ll go and figure out who to call,” Matt said.

  Jen smiled gratefully. “Thanks. I’ll go and get some towels, give it a rub down.”

  Matt patted her on the arm and headed for the stairs. The bedroom was the only place he could be sure of getting a phone signal.

  Jen went to the bathroom and fetched their towels. It was a shame to make a mess of them, but there was nothing else to use. She knelt down by the dog and rubbed a towel gently down the length of its body. Its damp coat was matted and ingrained with sand, and as she smoothed the tangled fur down, the dog’s muscles twitched as though she’d knocked a sore spot. “I’m sorry,” she murmured, “I didn’t mean to hurt you. But you’re all right now. We’ll look after you.” The dog wagged its tail, just twice, as if it had understood; a feeble gesture of friendliness. After everything that had been done to it, this dog simply wanted to be accepted, to be a good companion. Jen choked back a sob and a flash of anger surged through her. How could someone treat an animal like this? How could they? She could see its ribs for god’s sake.

  Jen sniffed and tilted her head back, blinking back her tears. And when she looked back down, the dog had raised its head and was watching her. The dog’s deep brown eyes locked onto hers and it raised and lowered its eyebrows as if to ask her what was wrong. Jen couldn’t help but smile. “It’s all right,” she said, “I’m all right.” She put her hand out to stroke the top of the dog’s head, but at the last minute, the dog turned its head and licked her hand. The dog’s tongue was warm and soft, and Jen let it lick her fingers. It seemed strange that such a big dog could be so gentle, so tender. It was as if it understood that she needed some comfort.

  “You’re just an old softie, aren’t you?” Jen said, and she took her hand away and stroked the dog’s ear. The dog lay back and closed its eyes, rolling over a little to show its stomach, displaying the pale skin beneath its fur. Jen rubbed the towel gently along the dog’s belly and it let out a contented sigh.

  “Everything all right?”

  Jen turned with a start. She hadn’t heard Matt come in the room. “Yes,” she said. “I’ve got it pretty dry. It seems... like it’ll be OK.”

  Matt peered over her shoulder. “I don’t know,” he said. “It looks in a bad way to me.”

  Jen pursed her lips. Why did Matt always have to pour cold water over everything? She s
ighed. “Did you manage to call someone?”

  “Eventually,” Matt said, “but...”

  “But what?”

  “No one answered,” he said. “I kept getting put through to voicemail.”

  Jen stared at Matt. “Is the vet coming or not?” she said. “Because if this is about the cost-”

  Matt held out his hands. “Look, I left a message. I told them to call me back. What else could I do?”

  Jen turned back to look at the dog. She stroked the top of its head, where its fur was softest. Assuming Matt was telling the truth, it could be ages before anyone called back and even longer for them to turn up. What should they do to keep the dog alive? Without looking up, she said, “We need to give it some water. Can you find a bowl or something?”

  “Sure.” Matt rummaged through the kitchen cupboards, clanging the pots and pans together. “This will do,” he said.

  Jen didn’t watch as Matt busied himself at the sink. She was intent on stroking the dog’s head, watching its muscles relax. It looked so peaceful. And as she ran her hands over its fur, its coat seemed to grow softer, smoother. The dog looked sleeker, almost as if it was healing and growing stronger right before her eyes.

  “There you go,” Matt said and laid an earthenware pie dish on the floor by the dog’s muzzle.

  Jen looked up at him. “Thanks,” she said. “I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

  “It’s all right,” Matt said. “You’re tired that’s all. It’s been a long day.”

  “Yeah.” Jen lowered her gaze for a moment then she bit her bottom lip and looked up. “Do you think...” she started, “I mean, shouldn’t we give it some food or something?”

  Matt pursed his lips. “I suppose so. But we haven’t really got anything. We were going to eat out tonight.”

  Jen nodded. “I know. I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind popping out to buy some.”

  Matt sighed. “Really? Won’t everywhere be closed?”

  “There’ll be somewhere open - a corner shop or a filling station or something.”

  Matt frowned and folded his arms, but he didn’t say a word.

  “And you could pick up something for us to eat as well,” Jen went on. “There’s bound to be a takeaway place open.”