The Dark Rider (Fading Light)

by Andrew Critchell

  ‘Shall we go inside?’ she asked,

  ‘Sure,’ he replied.

  They both turned and walked, with their arms around each other, towards the hotel that stood on the cliff top. Its white front was glowing, lit by the sunset's deep afterglow.

  ‘Hey, do you want to go for a drink in the bar?’ he said as they walked into the lobby.

  ‘I’m tired,’ she said. ‘And we had loads of wine with dinner and I need a bath. Can‘t we just cuddle up in bed, watch some TV?’ She looked up at him. He broke away from her.

  ‘But we did that last night and it’s boring here, come on, let’s make a bit more of the evening.’

  ‘I’m boring?’ she asked feeling suddenly hurt.

  ‘No, I didn’t mean that,’ he said seeing things suddenly getting out of control. ‘I meant it’s a bit boring here.’ He moved closer to her to put his arm back around her but she pulled away. He tutted before he could help himself.

  ‘So you’re bored and want to go home and I chose this place and so it’s my fault?’

  ‘Look, all I meant was let’s liven it up a bit, have a couple of drinks, sorry I spoke.’

  ‘Yeah, me too,’ she said before she could think.

  He stepped back.

  ‘I’m going to the bar,’ he said.

  ‘I’m going to have a bath,’ she said smiling back at him sarcastically.

  ‘Right then.’

  There was an awkward pause then he turned away, striding along the corridor towards the hotel bar. Wondering what the hell just happened, she turned away as well and climbed the stairs to their room. She walked in and punched the mattress in frustration. This was their second proper holiday together and the first time for a while that they had been in each other’s pockets for more than a weekend. She knew it was not a good sign.

  She stripped off, throwing each layer of clothing onto the bed before wrapping herself into one of the thick, warm bathrobes that were hanging behind the door.

  ‘I’m going to have a bath,’ she said to herself and walked into the bathroom. She sat down by the bath, turning the hot on full before pouring in some bubble bath. She watched as the water rose slowly, her hand moving lazily through the hot water, causing islands of bubbles to turn slowly in the current. With the bath full she slipped out of the robe and sank into the water, feeling its warmth surge through her body, and she finally began to relax, her conscience letting go of the argument they had just had. Her mind began to wonder and eventually she came to the sunset they had just seen and she kept thinking about the gulls, about how alien their respective existences were to each other and how beautiful this was. How beautiful the gulls were because of their existence bonded to the freedom of the winds

  Without realising she fell into a light dream, her mind filled with awe and wonder at the wildness of nature, the freedom from the multi-layered constructs of being human.

  After a time she blinked and looked around, as if waking from a deep sleep. Pulling herself upright out of the warmth, she reached for a towel and patted down her arms, torso and legs before stepping out and putting the robe back on. She turned off the light and opened the door into the bedroom. In the corner the television was on but the sound was muted, the flickering screen radiating its images across the room. On the bed lay her boyfriend, sound asleep. Surprised that she had not heard him come in she walked over and turned the TV off plunging the room into darkness. It was pitch black outside, the night only broken by the sweep of a lighthouse across the horizon.

  She looked down at his sleeping form. His name was Stefan. He was her first real boyfriend, in the sense that they had been going out with each other for a relatively long period of time. She had gone out with a few boys when she was a teenager but none of these had lasted more than a month or so. She had gone to university a single girl when all her friends had arrived while in long term relationships with boyfriends back home, many of which had broken up, unable to bridge the gulf of distance and occupation. She had gone out with a few people but found that whenever someone became her boyfriend she suddenly felt trapped and under obligation to them and after a couple of weeks she couldn’t stand it anymore and ended it. It had been a tough three years in the end. She had come away with a good degree but there had been a price.

  The emotions of those last few months suddenly washed over her and she shivered. She could not bring herself to cuddle up to Stefan, especially after their earlier argument. Instead she walked to the large patio window and stared out at the night sky laden with stars.

  She found this happening more and more. Physical contact with her boyfriend just felt uncomfortable. He was almost a stranger sometimes but then she felt even more of a stranger herself. It was not him in particular. She felt uncomfortable in close contact with anyone, a sense of invaded space. Anyone near disrupted her self. She felt that she was losing the sense of herself that she had held and this was causing her to withdraw.

  Nicola pushed herself away from the window. She hated herself when she was like this, when she thought about things too much. But then how can you not think too much? How can you carry on blindly unaware of what and where you are? Of what is really occurring around you? She felt that this was a lie, that to live that way was fake. Sighing she slipped off the bathrobe and flopped down onto the bed next to Stefan. He then muttered and turned over still asleep. Nicola pulled the covers over herself and closed her eyes.

  Nicola awoke, her body trembling. It was the middle of the night and everything was quiet. All she could hear was the sound of Stefan’s breathing and occasionally the wind gusting against the window.

  Her dream had been very vivid. She had been running bare foot through a forest, her clothes replaced with white fabrics and a white cloak that billowed out behind her as she ran. Something was chasing her. She never saw it but felt the terror of its presence as it moved through the trees behind her yet every time she turned her head all she saw were shadows. She kept on running, fear pumping adrenaline through her veins. Ahead the trees were thinning out, sunlight beginning to penetrate the thick canopy of leaves. She knew if she could just get to the forest edge she would be free, but no matter how hard she ran trees stretched out endlessly in front of her and she could not escape. Behind her the presence was closer, filling the air around her with a sickly taint that clung to her skin. She felt hands of ice reaching out, encircling the air around her, pulling at her legs and ankles. She stumbled and fell and before she could move she felt a weight bearing down on her back pushing her face into the soft earth. She opened her mouth and tried to scream.

  The dream had ended then and Nicola had awoken with her heart pounding in her chest. She forced her eyes open half expecting to see the monster standing in the room but there was nothing there. Nicola lay on her back and stared up at the ceiling trying to force the dream from her memory.

  The sweep of the lighthouse was just visible as a faint glow of light on the horizon. The wind had blown up and now moaned softly against the windows whilst in the distance she heard a rumble of thunder. Needing to prove to herself that she was not scared, she slipped out of bed and padded softly to the window. Outside the great panorama of stars was hidden by angry cloud that scudded quickly across the sky. Lightning flashed briefly, illuminating the room in stark unearthly detail making her jump a little. Fascinated, she stayed by the window. Rain began to drill against the sides of the hotel and sounded out loudly as it fell against the glass. Another rumble of thunder sounded, nearer now. More lightning flashed on the horizon lighting the cliffs with its alien light.

  Nicola watched the approaching storm. Watched as lightning lit the sea, catching waves as they were about to crash against the cliffs below. The darkness that followed became a pitch blackness that hid everything.

  A great crashing of thunder made her jump as it rolled around the cliff tops and the hotel. Jagged lightning stretched across the sky followed almost immediately by thunder and suddenly she felt very scared, very frightened by the a
wesome power of the storm.

  She turned her head and looked back to the bed, lightning showing the form of Stefan sitting up and looking back at her.

  ‘How long have you been looking at me?’ she asked.

  He dropped his gaze, ‘I’m sorry’ he said simply.

  Nicola stretched out her hand to the bed, pulling at the robe and wrapping it protectively around herself.

  ‘Are you still bored?’ she asked.

  ‘Hey, give me a break will you,’ he said looking back up at her, ‘I said I’m sorry.’

  She let him squirm for a moment more before speaking.

  ‘I’m sorry too,’ she said. ‘But don’t let it happen again’

  She turned back to the window. A flash of lightning arced across the sky lighting the underside of the clouds.

  ‘It’s beautiful,’ she said.

  ‘It’s a biggie,’ he said warily, still unsure where he stood with her. ‘I haven’t seen lightning like that for years’

  ‘I know,’ she replied. ‘It’s awesome.’

  ‘You aren’t scared are you?’ he asked. Was that mocking in his voice?

  ‘No, of course not.’

  She peered into the darkness waiting for more lightning. The wind seemed to have dropped and for a moment all was quiet. The eye of the storm was passing, she said to herself. A noise from the bed made her turn away and in that instant a sound like the entire glass window shattering exploded behind her head and she screamed and Stefan leapt out of the bed towards her, grabbing her by the arms and pulling her away. He made for the door but then stopped and looked around. The window stood as it had before with not a single mark on it.

  ‘What the hell was that?’ he said.

  ‘I‘m scared,’ said Nicola.

  ‘My heart is beating so fast,’ said Stefan. ‘I don’t know what was more scary, the noise or your scream.’

  He guided her to the bed.

  ‘Here, sit down, I’ll have a look.’

  Stefan went to the window. He put his face to the glass and peered outside into the pitch blackness.

  ‘I can’t see anything,’ he said, looking back at Nicola. As he did a bright flash of lightning illuminated the entire cliff top behind him.

  Nicola froze on the bed.

  In that brief second of light she had seen the stark outline of a figure on a huge warhorse standing on the cliff edge. A tall figure, wearing an ornately decorated helmet and dark armour. The horse was frightening, a great big black beast with armour on its front and sides, while strapped on its flanks were a shield and a broadsword. The figure’s face was hidden except the gleam from eyes that were looking straight at her.

  Thunder pealed across the sky.

  ‘Stefan, come away from the window.’

  ‘What’s up?’ Stefan was looking at her. ‘You look like you’ve seen a ghost.’

  ‘I saw.’

  She began to say it but could not. Just then another flash of lightning lit up the sky. She could see nothing except the empty cliff top, overlooking the crashing waves of the sea. Had she seen it? Now she could not be sure, it had seemed so real, but she must have imagined it after the scare earlier. If she did say something he would just think she was losing it, and this would not help their current strained relations.

  ‘Nothing. Nothing at all. Come back to bed,’ she said and then added, ‘but draw the curtains first.’

  Stefan did so and then climbed back into bed. The storm had eased off but rain could still be heard drumming against the windows.

  ‘It’s passing now,’ said Stefan yawning and getting himself comfortable for sleep. ‘We’ll be okay now.’ He put his arm around Nicola and had soon drifted off to sleep. Nicola lay still but wide awake, her clenched hands clutching the cover. She could not shake the image of the horse and rider from her mind.

  Paul finally returned to Aunt Gwen’s house.

  Climbing the stairs to her room he went in and sat by the window staring out across the bay. The moon had gone, hidden behind thick dark clouds. Out to sea lightning flashed and flickered while the first spots of rain began to fall lightly against the window.

  Paul sat, trancelike, and watched the storm as it swept in from the sea. He felt it as the lightning bathed the bay in its unearthly light and he listened to the thunder as it rolled around the hillsides and across the cliff tops and out there he felt it and it scared him.

  When the storm had passed Paul rose from where he had been sitting and went downstairs to the living room. There he lay down on the sofa and closed his eyes, but sleep did not come.

  The children’s first morning in Cornwall was a bright and sunny one. Before breakfast they had gone out to play in the lane that ran past the cottage and down towards the bay. They had caught glimpses of the sea through gaps in the hedgerows. Now they were impatiently doing the washing and wiping up while Dad made the packed lunch and Mum finished getting ready upstairs.

  ‘Finished,’ shouted Neil upending the bowl so that all the dirty water splashed its way down the plughole. He ran out of the kitchen, picking his way through the chaos of half emptied boxes and abandoned unpacking that had resulted from yesterday’s move, and up the stairs into the bedroom he would be sharing for the foreseeable future with his sister.

  Neil was an active, and often impulsive, eleven year old. Football was his main passion, alongside Nintendo and creepy crawlies, which he often retrieved from their overgrown back garden and then tried to place somewhere on his sister’s person when she was not looking. This could result in some spectacular fireworks which only encouraged him further. He was tall for his age and athletically built. Freckles and olive green eyes gave him an attractive face topped with unruly dark hair that, no matter what he did to it, had a mind of its own, sitting as a mass of short curling waves on his head.

  Squeezing past piles of bedding still wrapped in black sacks, Neil grabbed his rucksack, throwing in his towel and swimming trunks which he had unpacked last night. Their dad had promised that, no matter what, they would go to the beach on their first day in the cottage and he was itching to go already. Pulling the drawstring tight he picked up the rucksack and went downstairs. His sister Vicki, two years his junior, passed him on her own way to the bedroom.

  ‘Beat you,’ he said, grinning derisively. She stuck her tongue out at him without stopping as she climbed up the stairs.

  Vicky had the same green eyes as her brother and was thinner, being a full two inches shorter than him, a fact he often liked to remind her of. She was delicate looking, with light brown shoulder length hair which she sometimes wore tied in braids. Where Neil was loud, Vicky was quiet, a shyness that she had not grown out of since she was a toddler. She was most happy sitting on her own in her room reading or simply sitting by the large sash window watching the clouds and the birds, mainly starlings and wood pigeons, which trespassed in the sky above her.

  Vicky sighed as she walked into the bedroom, a sudden anxiety washing over her. Their parents had been so enthusiastic about the move and the few times she had said she didn’t want to come they had glossed over her fears. Now she was here and everything was turned on its head, and all she felt was a knot in her stomach. Reluctantly she packed her bag and then went back downstairs.

  Neil was already standing outside, arms outstretched as he soaked up the bright morning sunlight. The air was fresh and cool and the sky a deep blue. He inhaled deeply, enjoying the fact that there were no traffic fumes, no dreary concrete streets full of angry cars speeding around. Already his best friend had promised to come and stay in a couple of weeks and he was looking forward to showing him around. And there was the fact of starting at a new school in six weeks when the holidays were over. Neil wondered what the local kids were going to be like, if it would be easy to make friends. He was sure if he joined the local football club it would not take long to get to know some new people. Overall it was pretty exciting.

  Seeing nothing immediately interesting Neil turned around and went back i
nside.

  ‘Are we going yet?’ he called to no one in particular.

  ‘Yes, soon,’ came a voice from upstairs.

  He sat down in a chair and waited impatiently. The beach they were going to was only a mile or so away, known mainly to the locals and, due to the fact they had holidayed around here for so many years, to Neil’s family as well. It consisted of a long sweep of sand with headlands on both sides, and it providing plenty of opportunities for exploring.

  A clumping on the landing interrupted his beach reverie and he saw his mum’s legs appearing at the beginning of their journey down the stairs. Soon the whole family was standing in the lounge, rucksacks and bags full of the day’s provisions.

  ‘Right, are we ready?’ said their dad surveying the motley crew in front of him.

  ‘Yes,’ piped back Neil.

  ‘Right.’

  He looked at his wife, a big grin on his face.

  ‘Let’s go.’

  Chapter Three

  Eventually Paul slept and again the dream came to him.

  He was standing in a wooded winter landscape at dusk. Tendrils of mist crept like wraiths across the land, fingers of grey touching all and hanging thickest amongst trees that had become ghostly silhouettes. The sun was slipping quickly from a watery sky turning it orange and red and this gave the mist a deep tinge of colour so that it glowed as if on fire.

  Suddenly all the hairs on the back of Paul’s neck began to rise and a prickling sensation walked up his spine. He turned slowly, looking up at the horizon and seeing the outline of the horse and rider silhouetted against the crimson sky. He could feel them, knew the rider was looking straight at him and as he watched, they turned and began to walk slowly away towards some trees and Paul knew he had to follow.

  They walked on, following a faint path through woodland, the rider always keeping far ahead so that all Paul ever saw amongst the darkening shadows was his outline, yet he could feel its consciousness prickling at the edge of his mind, a violent and powerful swirl of energy he could not understand. And then they were gone from sight and mind.