Dark Confluence (18 page)

He waited for the ripple of concerned conversation to die down, and then spoke again, “Onto other matters, as you are aware the school term finishes the end of th...” he was interrupted by a sudden crash from a nearby room. Immediately, all the teachers leapt to their feet, Robert with effort lifting himself from his chair.

The Principal led the other teachers out of the staff room, hurrying along the corridor to the library, which seemed to be the source of the crash. The lights had gone out in the room, but there was enough diffused light from outside to see that three of the big windowpanes had crashed inside, shattering shards of glass everywhere.

“What the...” the Principal breathed, astounded. “Now, how did that happen?”

One of the younger male teachers went over to investigate, “I can’t find any rocks or bricks, and it seems that the glass has just given way.”

Emma Houston, the teacher Librarian gasped, pointing at the windows, “Look at that!”

Everyone followed the direction of her pointing finger and saw tendrils of watermelon vine cascading over the windowsills and into the room.

“Since when did we have a vine problem?” demanded the Principal.

“Since never,” answered another teacher, “Those vines were only planted at the start of the school year as part of our Permaculture project. There is no way they’d be this high or this lush now. I mean it’s a watermelon vine, and it’s a low growing plant. It shouldn’t be anywhere near the windows, let alone have the weight to smash them in.”

“Well it’s obviously done so. Come on, we need to clean up the mess before school starts and bar entry into the Library until we can get the windows secured, and the books removed before they are ruined.”

*

Carma looked out at the fog-enshrouded street outside her shop and felt a twinge of worry. Since the advent of the fog three days earlier, sales had been down. Tourists, who normally flocked to Emerald Hills were absent from her shop, and even her regulars seemed to be giving her a wide berth. She could not understand why. After that day when the old ladies of the town had bought up all her herbs, she’d scarcely had a customer. She looked down at her balance book. It was not yet a matter for serious concern, but if the fog continued, she might have to consider a new marketing strategy. Walking around the store, she rearranged some of the displays, trying to make the items seem more enticing. Behind her, she heard the chimes jingle as the door opened.

‘At last!’ she thought, ‘A customer!’

Turning hurriedly, she encountered the cool green gaze of Moira, who as usual, did her bizarre float-walk towards her.

“I see the changes are being made in the town,” Moira said quietly, a small smile upon her lips.

“Good Morning to you too, Moira,” Carma replied archly.

“Oh,” Moira was airily dismissive of the greeting. “Good Mor...hmmm.” She stopped and examined a candle, sniffing delicately.”

“Changes...oh, the power network?” Carma said,” Yes, it is very successful. I’ve heard that half of the town is now connected to the new network. That mixture you asked me to make was quite potent. Those opposed to my action completely rolled over and showed their bellies.”

Moira only nodded, “My compatriots and I are quite pleased. Do you know when the whole town will be reconnected?”

Carma nodded, “The council has informed me that the new grid will be in place by mid-to late April.”

“So soon,” breathed Moira. “You
have
done well.”

To her mortification, Carma blushed to the roots of her vividly purple dyed hair.

Carma glanced outside at the swirling fog, “Moira, the fog seems to have affected my business, is there anything that can be done about it?”

Moira glanced at her dismissively, waving her fingers and spinning amazing trails of light. Carma sighed and relaxed. The display was so pretty, so wonderful...

Moira smiled again, her voice low and compelling, “The fog is entirely natural, and don’t fret about customers, they will come. I will ensure that your loyalty is rewarded. However, I no longer need you and I think it’s best that you forget that I ever existed.”

Carma smiled and she felt an odd dullness envelop her, as if complex thought was now too difficult, too wearying. Part of her brain recognised it and fought against it, but entranced by Moira’s flashing display of light, Carma could only smile blankly and nod.

Moira walked up to Carma and rested her ruby lips against the other woman’s ear. Softly she whispered, “I was not here, you will forget my name, our meetings and our conversations. You have been a useful tool mortal, however your work for me is done.”

Carma nodded dully, although inwardly she quailed.

‘This was not part of the arrangement,’ she thought with vexing tears starting to spill onto her cheeks. Then the apathy took hold of her again and her chin sunk down onto her ample bosom. She felt too tired even to stand up.

Carma lifted her head and shook her head in confusion. Just what was she doing sitting on the floor? How long had she been sitting there? Had she fallen asleep? Surely not, she had just been rearranging the merchandise on the shelves. She got to her feet just as the door chimes jangled. She looked around to see a family of five enter, the youngest girl looking around in wonderment at all the colourful candles and other knickknacks set out for sale. Carma smiled blissfully and went back behind her front counter.

*

Chapter 16

It was the fifth day of the mist and Jen was running low on milk and bread. She had not wanted to drive into town whilst the fog persevered, however she could not delay any longer. She needed at least a few basics, her supplies of tinned food were good, but she needed flour, more salt and some meat.

The last few days at her home had been uneventful. When Jen had discovered some of the strange saplings coming up in her lawn, she had started to panic then remembering what had happened with the bell, she took some salt and sprinkled a little upon each invader. Amazed she watched each infant tree shy away from the substance and then it almost reluctantly retreated into the ground. Each morning after that experiment, she ventured outside with her diminishing bag of salt and sprinkled each new invader. After the second morning, there were no new invasions. Whoever, or whatever clearly understood that she was not to be trifled with and she was left alone.

Jen walked onto her verandah and closed the door behind her, her car keys in her hand. Her home was her castle, her refuge against whatever was happening beyond her carefully defended domain. Mindful of being neighbourly, she had three days ago rung Brett at his farm to see how his family were faring and got his wife who had been just ready to leave. His wife had introduced herself to Jen as Tracey and had sounded to Jen’s ears a bit stressed and harried. Tracey told Jen that she and Brett had decided to move their young family out of the area until the police caught whoever was responsible for the child abductions. Brett was to remain and mind the farm, whilst she stayed with relatives at Noosaville on the nearby Sunshine Coast.

Jen stood in an agony of indecision. She knew she had to go to town, yet was reluctant to leave. She felt herself safe here. Looking out across the mist all seemed quiet, too quiet. Yes, it seemed the mist stifled the noise, yet all the natural sounds of the countryside had stopped. Not a single bird called. Even the usually constant background buzz of insects had stilled. Jen wondered how long the silence had been present. Then she heard something through the mist. Vague sounds. Jen strained to hear and was relieved to recognise the distant cawing of crows. Not all wildlife had been silenced; there seemed to be a few still unperturbed by what was happening. Somewhat cheered by the calling of the crows, Jen got in the car and carefully pulled out of her driveway to make the hazardous drive into town.

At first glance, Emerald Hills seemed normal, except for the all-enveloping mist and the growing saplings. There were a number of people around, mostly visitors, as Jen did not recognise any of the faces. Jen parked her car on the side of the main road and glanced idly at the people walking by. It seemed that the troubles that were plaguing Emerald Hills had brought back the media en masse. Jen counted at least five media teams. Even the national broadcaster had made its way up to the small Hinterlands town. The rest of the visitors seemed the general tourist type, carrying cameras and wearing daypacks. A few individuals gave Jen pause. A couple, dressed in fine clothes sent waves of unease flowing through her and the tiny hairs on the back of her neck prickled. Jen recognised them as being human, but something about the two strangers set alarm-bells clanging in her mind. They walked past her car, then stopped and looked back; Jen shrank into her seat, busying herself with her purse. After a moment, she dared to look again, and saw that they had walked on, taking the miasma of corruption with them.

Jen finally summoned the nerve to get out of the car and face the town. Outside, the fog hung heavily about the buildings, and the saplings, now with three or four day’s growth were now knee high. Jen with her Sight could easily avoid them, but others would walk right through them, tripping and stumbling. She watched people looking back or down and then shake their heads in bemusement when nothing could be seen. A group of young university types clustered outside one shop. They were talking excitedly amongst themselves, whilst wielding sound recording devices and other obscure bits of electronic hardware. As she walked by she overheard one of them exclaim something about raised EMF fields, then she was past them and they too fell out of earshot.

The news agency was open and crowded with people. Jen bought a copy of both the local newspaper and the big national broadsheet. Stepping outside, she leant against the wall of the newsagent to peruse the front paper stories. Suddenly, she stopped and listened. Jen was certain she had just heard something. She listened, nothing, but then it came again - the sound seemed almost like a deep earthy groan, as if the ground were in pain. There again, a groaning, grinding sound, not human and she would swear, not living either. A minute or two later, she felt a mild tremor through her feet and the building she was leaning against suddenly shuddered. Hastily, she moved away from the wall and as she did so she heard several screams as the ground moved beneath her feet.

“Earthquake!” someone yelled, and within moments the footpath and road was crowded with people running out of nearby shops and businesses, most looking up into the sky as if a jet had crashed, or if they feared that buildings would topple onto them.

The tremor lasted scarcely a few seconds, although to Jen it seemed far longer. She found herself crouched on the ground, her hands sweating and resting on the footpath, as if she had dared not trust her feet to keep her upright. Standing, she trembled a little, perhaps from reaction, or perhaps it was that her body now contained the earth tremor. It took her several minutes to calm herself enough to walk back to where she had parked the car.

At least there had been no apparent damage to the town. From what could be seen through the swirling fog the buildings, all seemed intact, although some retaining walls had gained a few new cracks that hadn’t previously existed. From fear, grew excitement, and people milled around talking animatedly about what had happened. Earthquakes were a rare phenomenon in South East Queensland, so this one would surely make it onto the nightly news, along with the abductions, murders and fog that was now the recent feature of Emerald Hills.

Jen put the newspapers on the passenger seat beside her and sat, trying to calm her ragged breathing. The practical, pragmatic part of her scolded her for thinking that anything other than natural causes caused the tremor. However, given the incidents of the last few weeks, Jen wasn’t sure. By now, Jen was ready to attribute paranormal origins to everything that had gone wrong lately, even to the cyclonic storm that had hit weeks earlier. Jen told herself that she wasn’t being rational, but she didn’t care. There were just too many things happening now that she hadn’t seen in all her years of living here.