The Dark Light

by Walsh, Sara

  We pulled up in front of Mickey’s, ending what had almost been the longest ten minutes of my life. I reached for my bag. “Thanks,” I said, and handed him his book.

  Sol took it. He continued to watch me as if my face were covered in a thousand captions and clues. “You never did tell me where you’d seen the Lunestral,” he said.

  “You never asked.”

  “I’m asking now.”

  This was unknown territory. Having a mother in prison, a loser father, a depressive uncle. No problem. I’d admit it to anyone who asked. But admit that Jay had a tattoo?

  “My half brother has the same tattoo,” I said, shocked to hear the words coming from my mouth. “Only, he’s much younger—he’s only ten. My dad and his wife gave it to him before he came to live with us; we planned to remove it. It’s an unusual design, so I just wondered—”

  “If you knew where mine came from, you might discover where your brother got his.”

  He was smart, at least.

  “Yeah,” I said. “I guess I did.”

  Sol leaned back in his seat, his face tilted in my direction. “Then I wouldn’t look too hard, Mia,” he said. “I doubt you’d find the answer you’re searching for. But remember, even if you remove it, once the dream bird’s touched you, you’ll always have its protection.”

  Sol’s gaze held me. Tiny veins of golden flecks ran through the brown in his eyes. Almost hypnotized, I watched him, as if he’d stepped from the book of myths and legends that now lay between us on the seat. How was I ever going to explain this to Willie?

  “You should get to work,” said Sol, and the moment vanished.

  He was right. After all, it was Thursday night. Chicken special. Always a winner at Mickey’s.

  “Thanks,” I said, though I wasn’t certain what I was thanking him for. The ride? The book?

  Clutching my bag to my chest, I opened the door, part of me reluctant to leave. Whoever Sol was, wherever he’d come from, he’d brought the dream bird to Crownsville and had given meaning to Jay’s tattoo. For that, I was grateful.

  I shot him a half smile. “I’ll see you around.”

  * * *

  I returned from work that night to find the house empty and a note from Pete that Jay was at Stacey Ann’s. I stopped when I entered the living room. An empty whisky bottle stood on the end table beside the couch. The scent was thick in the air. Just when I’d thought Pete was doing better. But then it was always the same with Pete. One trigger and he’d be off again.

  I showered, then threw on my sweats. Rifkin’s assignment waited on my desk. It felt like years since I’d sat in the library with the dream-bird book as Andy invited me to the prom. But the world continued on and with it, Rifkin’s assignment. I flicked through my notebook until I came to the page of doodled S s.

  Sol.

  It was no good. Rifkin’s clash of civilizations couldn’t compete with the images of Sol that swirled in my mind. Sol, who came from some place far away. I wished myself there now.

  Distracted, I reached for my mom’s velvet box and flipped open the lid. Twenty-four hours ago, the necklace had been part of Willie’s plans for prom. It had been all about Andy, about finding the perfect dress. Now the color of the golden stones reminded me of the flecks in Sol’s eyes.

  I took the necklace to the mirror and fastened it around my neck. It actually looked better on than it did in the box. I’d never really thought I’d wear it to prom, but now it struck me as kind of vintage, a sort of shabby chic.

  Headlights appeared outside, followed by the soft rumble of an engine. I wandered to the window as the Bakers’ car pulled up. Jay climbed out.

  Satisfied that he was home, I returned to the mirror, again checking the necklace. Vintage. I liked the sound of that.

  Voices carried from outside. Tires crunched on gravel.

  Golden stones. Crimson veins. Maybe a red dress? After my excursion with Sol, I might soon be known as the scarlet woman of Crownsville High.

  I was lost in the thought, when light began bouncing off the side of my face. Pink. Green. Blue. It looked so pretty against my cheek’s tanned skin.

  Pink . . . green . . . blue . . .

  My gaze drifted to the desk lamp.

  Pink . . . green . . . blue . . .

  The lamplight was yellow.

  I turned to the window.

  Two columns of celestial light—pastel ribbons—danced in the breeze from somewhere deep within the corn. Just like that night behind Rowe. But brighter, closer, stronger.

  Voices outside. Tires crunching on gravel . . .

  But what about the slam of the porch’s screen door? Where were the cabinets banging in the kitchen, the rustle of snack wrappers, the laughter on the TV? Where were the footsteps on the stairs?

  Outside, the lights danced.

  I dashed into the hallway.

  “Jay?”

  Silence.

  “Jay?”

  Into Jay’s room. Bed empty. Computer switched off.

  “Jay?” Louder this time.

  Colored mists floated in my mind as I descended the stairs in three giant leaps. The lights were visible through the kitchen window. They’d moved deeper into the field.

  The screen door slammed behind me as I emerged from the house. Rustles in the cornfield echoed through the darkness. Jay’s schoolbag lay on the edge of the field, dumped on the dusty yard. Trampled corn stalks lay beyond it.

  Drunk on a cocktail of panic, denial, and disbelief, I sprinted.

  Then I screamed Jay’s name.

  SEVEN

  Terror propelled me. I had to reach Jay before Jay reached that light, and I had nothing to guide me but the indistinct path he’d forged through the corn.

  The lights. Alex Dash. Jay.

  Those three thoughts converged, like a connect-the-dots puzzle when the hidden picture becomes clear. This wasn’t marsh gas or will-o’-the-wisp. It wasn’t fireworks or aliens from outer space. This was the same light I’d seen on Rowe, the same light I’d seen the night that Alex disappeared.

  Though not yet grown to full height, the corn formed a barrier around me. It scratched my outstretched hands. It clawed my hair. Twice it tripped me.

  “JAY!” My own gasping breath was the only reply.

  With every step, the light moved farther away, the two columns merging into a wall of mist. There was no one to help. No one to hear my cries.

  “Jay! You stop right now!”

  I battled blindly on, trampling anything in my path, until finally I stumbled out of the cornfield and onto open land. The colored mist had vanished.

  The Gartons’ farm was to the left. The faint lights of Crownsville lay beyond. Stars shone overhead. Far to the right stood the Ridge, its black mass silhouetted against the velvet sky. A tiny figure sprinted across the fields toward it.

  I cupped my hands to my mouth. “Jay!”

  Nothing.

  “Jay, stop!”

  It was no good; either he couldn’t hear me, or he didn’t want to stop. I lowered my head and ran on. Soon I reached the first trees at the base of the Ridge. Jay was no longer in sight. Worse still, the light had returned. As I scrambled through the undergrowth and into the woods, the light shone from somewhere above. Peachy tints hit the trees and caught in the leaves. A static-like charge filled the air. My skin tingled.

  “JAY!”

  Vaulting rocks, I hurtled up toward the Ridge. Birds squawked, disturbed as I passed, and took to the sky in a mass of frantic wings. My muscles screamed. But I couldn’t stop. Not when Jay was alone with whatever it was that I was certain had taken Alex.

  I reached the last of the trees before the plateau. A wall of tinted mist covered the top of the Ridge. As if two great hands pushed from the edges, compressing the light into a narrower and narrower strip, it receded. Faster and faster. Little more than ten feet of light remained.

  Nine.

  Eight.

  A faint figure stood inside the ever narrowing ga
p. With a final burst, I tore onto the Ridge.

  “Jay!”

  In the second I broke from the trees, the light reversed its course. It expanded rapidly, up and out. Like a gateway to Heaven, it was brighter than anything I’d ever seen. Soon color covered the entire Ridge. Dazzled, I shielded my eyes, peering between my fingers at Jay. His back was to me and he moved forward as if to reach for something unseen. A few feet more and he’d walk right off the edge of the Ridge and plunge into the river below.

  “Jay, don’t! Stop! That’s the—”

  A second figure appeared in the light. It was tall, shrouded in a long black hooded cloak. Images flashed of the shadow behind Rowe, of Alex Dash and the empty booth at Mickey’s. I didn’t know where that figure had come from. From within the light? I didn’t know. All I knew was that I had to get to Jay.

  The figure reached for Jay. I screamed, dove forward, lunging for the light. The hooded figure glanced back, and a great weight bowled into me from behind, knocking me off my feet. The wall of light flashed once, and then vanished. The hooded figure was gone.

  So was Jay.

  Frantic, I lifted my chin off the ground, spitting dirt from my mouth as I pushed to get up. I couldn’t. Whatever had knocked me down, still pinned me.

  The weight lifted.

  My fingers clawed the dust as I scrambled forward. “Jay!”

  “Mia, no! Wait!”

  I spun around. A second figure rose in the gloom.

  This wasn’t happening. The kidnapper had returned to cover his tracks!

  “Mia.”

  The figure knelt. Pale moonlight struck the side of a familiar face.

  “Sol?”

  “It’s me,” he said.

  I didn’t question why he was here. He simply was. That was all that mattered. I grabbed his arm. “Sol, did you see it? Jay! He was there.” Gripping Sol tightly, I scrambled to my feet, dragging him toward the drop. “He must have gone over.”

  I peered into blackness. The sound of rushing water clashed with my ragged breathing.

  “Jay, hold on!” I yelled. Hands trembling, adrenaline gushing through my limbs, I yanked my phone from my pocket. “I have to call the sheriff. Sol, do you see him? He has to be down there!”

  Sol did not reply. His gaze remained on the river below.

  I seized him again, desperate for him to understand. “It was the light, Sol,” I said. “Tell me you saw the light.”

  Sol stood as still as when I’d seen him from Gus’s ferry. A deep frown covered his brow. Not a word passed his lips. It had to be shock that had silenced him. I couldn’t blame him; I could barely believe what I’d seen myself. But with Sol beside me, I felt hope rise. I wasn’t the only witness to what had happened.

  With hands shaking, I called the sheriff’s number.

  * * *

  The rest of the night passed in such a blur that I could barely distinguish one part from the next. One moment I stood with Sol on the Ridge. The next, distant engines, flashlights, voices. Pete was there. I hadn’t seen him arrive. There were ambulances on the Ridge road, patrol cars, and Sheriff Burkett asking me over and over about what I’d seen. Each time I told him, he glanced at Deputy Monwright, and then asked me to explain it again.

  “It was like that night,” I said, urging them to believe me. “There was a man and these colors and this light.” I glanced at Pete, who stood back with arms folded, watching me closely. “It must have been lightning, a tornado.”

  “There was no tornado tonight,” said the sheriff.

  “Then a microburst! Something! Jay has to be somewhere. You’re checking the river, right?”

  “We’re checking, Mia.”

  The sheriff drifted away. I was alone with Pete.

  “This can’t have happened,” I said, wanting it to be true. “Pete, there were lights at the house. They came for him.”

  Pete didn’t reply. He stood, motionless, cast in shadows as black as the hooded figure I’d seen with Jay. “Pete! This is Jay! Say something!”

  As soon as I got close to him, I smelled booze. Rage gripped me. “I’m going to help look,” I snapped. “Seeing as no one else in his family gives a damn!”

  I stormed back onto the Ridge, pushing past the officers who scoured the ground for clues. I’d almost reached the edge when I noticed Sheriff Burkett standing to the side with Sol. Relief hit. Sol was talking. Now they’d have to believe me.

  “And you didn’t see this light,” repeated the sheriff.

  I froze.

  “I saw Mia on the Ridge,” Sol replied. “I thought she was going to jump, so I grabbed her.”

  Thought I was going to jump? That wasn’t how it had happened. Why the hell would I jump? He’d seen the lights. Sol knew what had happened.

  “Why were you out here?” asked the sheriff.

  “Just walking.”

  “And you’re staying with Stan Crowley?”

  “Yes. I know Mia from school.”

  “What about this hooded man?”

  Sol shook his head.

  The sheriff rejoined the others, but I stood, rooted in place, staring at Sol. It was only then that he noticed me watching.

  “You think I’m crazy,” I said.

  The look in Sol’s eyes hadn’t changed from when we’d stood on the edge of the Ridge. Distant. Remote. “No,” he said.

  The cops moved around us, radios crackled, lights swept the ground.

  This was a dream. It had to be. “You saw the light, Sol.”

  He swallowed deeply. “I saw nothing.”

  I shook my head. I’d been so relieved when he first appeared, but now it was as if I were facing a stranger. This wasn’t the Sol who’d shown me the dream bird. It wasn’t the Sol who’d driven me to Mickey’s. This was a guy who’d come to Crownsville from some place far away. He showed no sign that he was lying about the lights. He simply watched me, expressionless.

  “You’ve had a shock, Mia,” he said, calmly. He turned away. “I think you should go home.”

  My gaze followed Sol’s path as he wandered past the officers and was eventually consumed by the dark. I waited, stunned, expecting him to come back at any moment and say that he’d lied. Sol did not return.

  Frantic activity continued around me. But not once did I move until Sheriff Burkett reappeared and I finally let him lead me away.

  * * *

  Ten o’clock. Eleven. Midnight. We remained in the kitchen—me, Pete, the sheriff. From time to time, Sheriff Burkett’s radio buzzed and my heart would leap as he took the call. But there were no reports of Jay. It was too dark. It was time to wait for dawn.

  “I’ll call Principal Cook,” said the sheriff, when he got up to leave. “I’ll tell him you’ll be staying home tomorrow, Mia. You got that, Pete?”

  “She’ll stay home,” said Pete, simply. His fingers gripped the edge of the table. He stared into his lap.

  Still disgusted that he’d been out drinking when this had all gone down, I turned my back on Pete as soon as the sheriff left. I headed for my room. Jay’s door remained closed, taunting me.

  How many times had I passed it on my way to bed and never poked my head inside to wish him good night, to ask about his day, to tell him I loved him, like an older sister should? It was like a great secret, a great conspiracy, rested on my shoulders. No one believed what I’d seen, and the only person who shared in the secret had lied.

  I pressed my cheek against Jay’s door, eyes closed as I prayed for the sound of his squeaking bed or for an explosion from one of his games.

  Silence.

  I didn’t sleep. Couldn’t sleep. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Jay in the darkness. Colors swirled around him. Then the dark figure would turn, his face shrouded by the hood. I’d reach out, stretch for Jay’s hand, then—gone.

  But where? Jay had vanished into thin air. But that couldn’t be. He must have fallen into the river. He would be out there, floating, cold and alone.

  “But it wasn’t l
ike that,” I muttered.

  Jay hadn’t fallen. It had started way before. Something had drawn Jay into the cornfield. I remembered him taking my hand, telling me he’d seen his mom. What if someone had really been out there? What if whoever had taken him had been targeting Jay for days? Watching. Waiting for the moment to strike.

  But Sol hadn’t seen anyone on the Ridge.

  But Sol was lying. Had to be.

  But why?

  The door downstairs banged followed by the sound of Pete’s truck as he pulled away. I rolled onto my back and stared at the ceiling, as the jumbled mess of events ran through my mind again.

  * * *

  Pete returned at seven the next morning. Still unable to sleep, I headed for the kitchen.

  “Anything?”

  He shook his head. “They’re bringing in divers.”

  My heart sunk. Jay was a strong swimmer. He might have dragged himself from the river and gotten lost in the woods. Lost was good. What was lost could be found. But divers? Divers meant he was never coming back.

  “I should have been here last night, Mia. I’m sorry.”

  I remembered with shame my outburst on the Ridge. So Pete had been out drinking—what was different? I’d known about the lights, but I hadn’t run fast enough. I could’ve saved Jay if I’d tried harder. Blame lay thick in the air.

  “You couldn’t have known, Pete,” I said. “All that matters is that we get Jay back.”

  “We’ll get him.”

  “I wasn’t lying. I saw everything I said I did. It was the same thing I saw when Alex Dash disappeared. Jay’s somewhere on that Ridge. I know it.”

  Pete offered a nod so slight I barely caught it. “You’re not to go back up there,” he said.

  I made no reply.

  “I’m serious, Mia. It won’t do any good wandering around up there. Get some sleep. We’ll find him.”

  “Are you going back out?”

  He opened his hands and gestured to the mud that covered his jeans and boots. His hair lay damp across his forehead. Stubble covered his chin. “Just came for a change of clothes.”

  I lingered at the table as he headed out of the room.

  “Promise you won’t go to the Ridge,” he said, glancing back.