by E M G Wixley
With a glint in her eyes, she held out a packet of cigarettes. Irvin took one, placed it between his lips and rummaged in his pocket for a lighter. “Thanks, you don’t know how much I need this,” he said beaming. Her happy eyes sparkled, and he noticed faint freckles running across the bridge of her nose onto her cheeks, the remains of a hot summer.
“I know how you feel, I’ve been caught out on a Sunday before.” She jogged on the spot to keep warm. “Here take the packet I’ve got another at home.”
“Have you lived here long?”
“All my life. And you?”
“I’m just here for the winter making enough money to set off travelling again. I’m trying to get a channel going on the net filming abandoned places, but I need something spectacular. My dads a tech wizard but doesn’t believe I can make a living following my interests. The folks are all about getting me onto the treadmill, making me a slave to some company.”
“I want to escape this dump too,” she said grinning. “They all say how great it is in the summer and how lucky I am, but really it’s a golden cage.”
The girl seemed like-minded, and Irvin shook off his feelings of foreboding and relaxed. His barman persona emerged, and his thoughts were lost in the delights of meeting the cheeky straw blonde. They jabbered about the boredom of village life in the winter and how it was in sharp contrast to the lively fun of the summer. Her easy chat and lack of fakery pleased him, and he was aware of how the sweet distraction had sucked away his pain. She glanced at her cell phone.
“What’s the time?”
“Four.”
“I’m late for work,” he said jumping up from the bench. “Perhaps we could continue our chat another time.” He beamed and rushed towards the pub.
Irvin paused before the door. I must always enter alone, but today at least I don’t feel so lonely. He turned swiftly and saw her gazing in his direction. “My names Irvin,” he called.
“I’m Holly,” she smiled brightly. “See you later.”
Escaping the Dark
Chapter Three
Felicity awoke refreshed and with a purpose. She poked her head out of the tent and saw a shaft of sunlight was breaking through the mist and ghostly gloom of the wood. The colours and the layers of golden leaves had grown more vibrant, and birds were singing. She was unexpectedly positive and determined to drag her new friend back into the world.
Climbing into the tent, she gazed down at Jonah laying curled in a tight ball. She reached out and gently shook his shoulder. He didn’t move and was cold to the touch. Her heart pounded, and the fragrance of fear and cold filled her head.
“Jonah, wake up,” she commanded deciding she would be in control. Still nothing. She shook harder. Slowly he turned onto his back and lifted his lids. Their eyes met, and she captured a look of confusion. She shuddered and smiled. “Come on we need to go.”
“You go,” he muttered. “I’m staying here.”
“I thought you wanted to hear my story.” When she saw him moving she pushed backwards out of the tent. “Come on. I have something I want to show you,” she added picking at the dirt and corrosion from his cracked soul. I must keep him focused on the mundane and his mind away from the weight of whatever is crushing him, she thought.
Reluctantly he crawled out and rose. Standing tall but with hunched shoulders and his hands stuffed into the pockets of his shabby coat, he looked down at Felicity with a severe and solemn expression. “What is it? What do you need to show me?”
“Look! It’s beautiful – the colours and birdsong.” Anxiously she looked into his face. His eyes were glazed and red ringed. She reached out for his hand and squeezed gently. The touch of skin against skin was enough to transfer her warmth and sincerity, and he smiled weakly. “Come on, I’ll lead the way.” Gently she directed him to the edge of the trees.
“What about your stuff?” He was looking over his shoulder almost pulling back towards the dark.
“Perhaps we’ll return for it. We will walk and not care about what’s beyond the horizon. One day at a time.” They stepped from the wooded heights. The sun had split the grey skin of the sky and lay like a golden path down the sloping hill. “There must be some reason we were brought together,” she said wanting to say anything which would distract the young man. “A reason for our random encounter.”
“Your story,” he said in a thick voice as she marched him over the waterlogged ground and negotiated their way around rocks and obstacles. “What made you enter the woods?”
Felicity’s hand clasped Jonah’s a little tighter as painful memories pierced her mind. “Things appear like a mirage. I don’t know if it’s what I’ve read or been told since. It was an extremely widely reported case.”
“You allowed me to just talk,” he said as their pace slowed. “We have all the time you need.”
“The papers said we were in Saint-Tropez. You know on one of those big boats. My parents always hung around with the same nine adult – fanatical computer scientists and friends of my dads. My mum wasn’t subservient, and my dad was kind, but he was controlling with his love. He always assumed that others were in agreement with his views and if she had a differing opinion she never spoke out directly. Of course, his weird friends were totally on the same wavelength all being tech people working with computers.”
“I remember my mother swirling around in her expensive full-skirted dress and thinking how beautiful she was. They were all affluent and self-possessed. Now I know they were all narcissists and at that time only interested in greed, gaiety and the latest computer gadgetry and advancements.”
“Consumed by their mutual pleasure-seeking,” Felicity said with an acquired bitterness. Absorbed in her own story, she allowed her hand to slip from Jonah’s leaving her hands free to gesticulate. “They went ashore to the bar opposite the boat. They left a guard on the entrance to the vessel, and I recall reading about a small number of the crew left on board who’d all gone into the gally for drinks. Not really anyone responsible.”
“The three of us were in the same cabin. I think I shared a bed with my brother Irvin and the other children were elsewhere on the boat. My sister and I were terrified of being left alone, but Irvin slept deeply. It was approaching footsteps and the opening of our door which announced a presence. Light lanced across the bed, and I looked over at my sister Elley and saw fear in her eyes. She held a finger to her lips and whispered, ‘shut your eyes’.
“A voice held my attention. A man was whispering something to Elley. I heard him say, ‘hush’. I was hiding under the blanket with my eyes squeezed tightly shut trying to suppress the bubbles of fear from rising and erupting out, but I was frightened for my sister and peaked out. I saw someone reach for her and then their hand was on her mouth. She was trying to fend them off. From beneath the covers, I heard another voice. Two men arguing and grappling. I was too shocked to move and blocked my ears.”
Felicity paused and contemplated how utterly horrible the whole instant had been and wondered how much she really was able to recollect. Jonah placed his large hand on her shoulder and turned her, so they were face to face. He regarded her gravely, his eyes no longer vacant. “Whatever else happens, I’ll keep you safe.” His mouth twisted into a smile dissolving her dark thoughts.
“I’m just seeking answers. From that day on our lives were torn from the ground and who any of us truly were faded away. I’m strong now and will claw back the truth despite the consequences. I want to know what happened to my sister and who was to blame.”
“So why were you in the woods intending to take your last breath?”
“Because I heard my father’s voice that night.”
They were at the bottom of the hill traversing around a bog. A cold gust of wind whipped across the valley. Felicity clutched Jonah’s arm and lent into his side. He tried to wrap his tattered coat around her shoulders.
“It was no accident we met,” he said as they joined the trail which led to the carpark. “We both endu
red missing sisters. How much of a coincidence is that?”
“Should I hold my tongue and forget about it all for the sake of peace.” She said watching his reaction closely and saw something had changed, he was fresh and more alive.
“No. I don’t usually believe in fate, but in this case, it seems obvious we must fight together at least until we’re strong and can see clearly,” he added.
The sanctuary they chose was a tea room located in a small Scottish village. The door rang as it opened and they walked into a warm interior. A waitress directed them to a table by the window as far away from the well-nourished tourists as possible. Jonah hurried to a chair with his eyes downcast as though he wanted to run and hide. His stubbly blonde whiskers and grimy appearance stood out under the harsh light. Felicity ordered the largest breakfasts. She looked around for people close enough to eavesdrop and noticed two old ladies staring and then leaning close to gossip about the stranger's appearance.
They both ate and drunk in silence, occasionally glancing up and smiling expressing how indescribably delicious the food was after neglecting their needs for sustenance for so long.
“I hope you’ve got some money. I didn’t think I would need any, where I was going,” Jonah said.
“Yes, plenty.”
He grinned with gratitude. His whole appearance had rapidly changed. The nourishment had brought the colour back to his cheeks, and his eyes sparkled a deep cerulean blue.
“Do you want to return with me to Norway,” he said without looking up. “We can investigate your crime from there – no strings attached.”
“Choices are so hard to make.” She paused to think and took a sip of coffee. He straightened, rested his hand on her arm and looked into her eyes.
“It’s okay if you say no. I won’t jump off the nearest bridge.”
“I don’t know, I find any kind of relationships hard. Everything compressed down to the moment I heard my father’s voice all those years ago.”
“It’s okay,” he said, but Felicity saw a shadow of loneliness cast over his face. “There are endless possibilities and what I fear may never happen. I was on compassionate leave but will return to my work as a cop, as you English call them. I won’t allow guilt and betrayal to crush me anymore.”
“Me neither.”
Dark Mountains
Chapter Four
Jonah returned home. The arteries of the dark valley ran between the dominating and mournful mountain ranges. At this time of year, the sun was not able to rise above the peaks. Within Jonah, the dark blood of truth flowed beneath his towering guilt and grief. If only he could climb the steep slopes and stand in the light.
Was it only him who was always trying to leave, he thought as he stepped out of the shower, put on his dressing gown, pulled the blinds down against the wall of rock and hurried over to the safety of his den. He sat on the swivel chair and switched on the screen of his computer. To his right was a glass already full of whiskey and to his left a tablet and phone. This was his favourite place in the vast empty modern building.
He allowed the ghosts of the missing, the famine of light and pervading gloom to continue to exist floating behind his back, while he remained in his bubble of screen brightness. His father had left his presence behind, a hollowness in the house which followed whenever he moved. As a child, the man of integrity had loomed large, a gentle giant who’d made everything of importance happen for him and his sister. Daily, Milton strove to hide his suffering from them determined not to lose the struggle after his wife died and then he battled even harder in his quest to find Anja. All his life Jonah had held the man in high esteem. He’d not had to search far for a hero. Until the end when he uttered those words.
Your sister, Anja was unable to leave an impression on the Earth. I see her in my head a little girl leaping around and alive. Then I see her frightened trying to escape, running, running and when she is finally free arriving at the sharp edge and falling over the precipice. I was so happy when we found her, but my world crumbled when she died of her traumas. All that had been built was pulled apart, stone by stone. Festering in prison was not enough for her murderers. I’ve killed them, killed all the parasites of this world with my deadly bacterium. Go, north son, stay in the cold until the planet is clean of the germs, the parasites. I have no regrets but for you. Please find another way.
Looking at the news headlines on his tablet, he was relieved to see nobody had turned into a rabid beast and died an agonising death. No virus or plague had reaped down the citizens of the world, and there was no mention of dormant pathogens being released from the permafrost. All he found was a small article of an outbreak of Anthrax in a remote part of Siberia. There was a paper written by a member of his father’s team discussing the inexplicable patch of melting ice and the high levels of radiation they’d found coming from the area. Other papers expressed concerns over the rising sea levels and the swelling polluted oceans. Perhaps Milton's stories of harvesting and regenerating 30,000-year-old bacteria were untrue, the ramblings of a dying brain, the breaking down of circuitry.
At first, he’d thought he should act quickly report his father’s secret revenge. Crucify his father’s reputation and allow the splinters to shatter his own career. Then he’d decided to leave, to step away from everything and call time. He was a reserved man and couldn’t have taken the humiliation and the burden of destruction. Also, he was partly in agreement with Milton. The scum who exploited the innocent deserved to pay the highest price for their cruelty. Perhaps the collateral damage was necessary to clean a world full of evil intent. It was all too much to bear. It screamed out from the cavernous mouth of the media daily. Was the picture of evil out of proportion or an accurate reflection?
Jonah smiled to himself, licked his dry lips and sipped his whiskey. He was relieved to see, an ugly death had eluded his sister’s killers, but they were still in jail and the planet safe from a modern-day plague.
Felicity’s story had sounded so much like his own. The scales of their loss were equally balanced on either side of the line except there was a slim chance Elley could still be alive. His eyes shifted from his tablet to his computer as he read various news articles and interviews. It was much as Felicity described. The crew of the yacht were supposedly tasked with listening for the children over a monitor, which they later claimed hadn’t worked properly. The adults also insisted that they’d regularly checked on the children. Jonah noted a window of opportunity had occurred when the guard on the gate had been summoned to run an errand.
Jonah gulped his whiskey as he sat back and allowed the story and the competing voices of the witnesses to wash through his brain. It was uncomfortable rummaging through such a pivotal point of his friend’s past. His mind fixed on the distress and fear of the children alone in the dark. The imagined terror etched in his heart causing a few tears to drop from his eyes. It was rough ground to cross, but the preoccupation with another's troubles lessened his own trauma. Besides if he could ease her ordeal his investigations would be worthwhile.
He wiped his cheeks with his sleeve and dipped in and out of the widely covered events. The mother had discovered Elley missing and rushed over to the restaurant to alert her friends. Many mistakes were then made as the adults and crew rushed around the unsecured crime scene searching for the missing child to the point of neglecting the needs of the other children. The gendarmes were not called until the next day. Were these adults friend or the enemy, Jonah considered?
Next, he watched numerous interviews given by the parents stretching over the years. They were happy to speak, to get their point across seemingly proportioning blame to others and diverting attention away from their failings. Jonah analysed their faces and body language and saw little sorrow or remorse. They were frozen almost afraid to move, hiding behind a mask. As time progressed, and the interviews thinned out, he could see that the mother had found her place in hell. She was prematurely aged, struggling under a burden and submissive to her husband who
confidently spoke out.
Jonah searched deeper trying to peel back the layers to find a submerged truth, but all the information was like flotsam, floating on the surface and disconnected. Those who were tasked with investigating the case had taken on a vigorous complacency, claiming to have new leads but on closer examination, they were pursuing phantoms.
Placing his interlaced fingers under his chin, Jonah leaned forwards and read the lists of opinions from the general public which seemed far more revealing and often bizarre, from alien abduction, cults, but mostly they accused the parents. The one detective who claimed to have evidence of the parent's involvement with the misdemeanour was sacked and ridiculed. Eventually all the chatter and rattling complaints from the homespun detectives sunk to the dark corners of the web.
The phone rang breaking the silence. Jonah’s eyes wandered to his device where an unidentified number flashed.
“Hello, it’s Felicity,” a small voice said drawing them together again over the miles. “Do you have time to speak?”
“Yes, of course,” he said his head swimming. “It’s good to hear from you again. How are you?”
“I’m just sat here in my flat going over old stuff, but I can’t find anything new. I was planning on pushing everything away and going back to uni to finish my studies. Then my mother phoned inviting me for Christmas. I just can’t do it alone - I can’t face them.”
“I’ve also been scouring the net looking into the case, but I can’t find a grain of truth. It’s all shifting sands,” Jonah said. “You could almost imagine there’s some kind of conspiracy going on.”
“I know. When we were kids, they kept a strict watch over our computer use which was strange when your father is immersed in the tech world.”
