Outcast (The Darkeningstone Series Book 2) (39 page)

Cally stood, rooted to the spot. She stared at Crawford. This man was dangerous, ruthless. He was going to hurt her, hurt Andrew too. Perhaps, if she went along with his demands, it would calm him down, but it might also take her further into danger. She opened her mouth to speak but she had no idea what to say.

Crawford shone his flashlight in her face. “Move,” he snapped. “Get off the stone. Now!”

The stone!
So the black stone
was
right beneath her feet. But could that really be what all this was about—a lump of rock? Cally looked down at the cold, black water lapping around her ankles. She could see nothing through the murky water; nothing but fleeting reflections from Crawford’s flashlight catching the ripples around her feet. Except…

No—she’d imagined it; a trick of the light. And yet, she
had
seen it. She looked back at Crawford’s flashlight. The beam was pure white, but the reflection on the water had been bright blue. And it had moved strangely, racing across the surface, almost like an electrical spark in the dark water. Cally took a breath and felt her throat tighten. She stepped backward, looking frantically from side to side.
I’ve got to get out of here
. She glanced over her shoulder. Behind her, the unexplored tunnel stretched away into darkness. Where did it lead? Was it a dead end? It didn’t matter. If she could slip away into the shadows, she could find a place to hide, buy some time. If Crawford tried to stop her, it might give Andrew a chance to get away and fetch help. She swallowed hard.
It won’t work
.
It’s a stupid idea
. But it was her only choice. She backed away as fast as she could, dragging her feet through the icy water, churning it into a chaos of splashes and waves. Now, every ripple was edged with flickering slivers of blue light.

“No,” Crawford snarled. “Not that way, you stupid girl. Come here.”

“Don’t listen to him,” Andrew shouted. “Run! Find a way out!”

“Oh, shut up,” Crawford growled. He raised the Taser higher, pointing it straight at Andrew’s face.

“No!” Cally shouted. She stood still, her fists clenched. “Don’t you dare hurt him,” she yelled. “Don’t you dare!”

“If you’d done as you were told, there’d be no need,” Crawford said. “But as things stand, I’m going to have to put this idiot out of action for a while.” He grinned and lowered his weapon until it was pointing at Andrew’s chest.

Cally’s stomach lurched. She couldn’t stand by and let this happen. But she couldn’t give in to Crawford; there was no telling what he might do to her.

She looked at Andrew. Surely he’d know what to do. But something was wrong. Andrew was staring at her, open mouthed. And his face was lit by a pale blue glow. Crawford had seen it too; his smile had gone, replaced by a furious snarl. And he was mouthing something. Or shouting. But Cally couldn’t hear him. His angry words were being carried away, as if by a breeze. But that didn’t make sense.

She looked frantically from side to side.
What the hell’s happening?
The walls of the tunnel were bathed in blue light. And a strange sound, a muffled buzzing noise, reverberated all around her. She stared at Andrew and Crawford, reached out her hands toward them. She wanted to cry out for help, but a sudden rush of ice-cold air robbed her of her voice. It breezed through her, chilling her to the bone, tugging at her hair, prickling her skin.

Something brushed against her legs, and she forced out a scream. Around her feet, flashes of brilliant blue light pulsed through the water, growing brighter, stronger. Sparks crackled and darted across the water’s surface, then arced through the air to swathe her legs in swirling beams of light.

Cally’s breath froze in her throat. A savage, crushing pain welled up in her chest. She had to get out of there. She had to run.

But when she tried to step forward, she couldn’t move her legs. She tried again, straining every muscle, but there was nothing she could do. There was no escape.

Chapter 39

2014

ALAN RAN as fast as he could, hobbling awkwardly toward the empty stone. Surely, Tom had managed to drag himself from its surface. He must’ve fallen to the ground on the far side, and now he was hidden by the grassy bank. But no. As Alan reached the stone, it was clear that Tom was nowhere in sight. Alan stood for a moment, his mind whirling with impossible images: the glittering blue beams that had snaked through the air with a deadly sense of purpose; the unearthly glow that had seemed to come from within the dark stone.

In a daze, he walked around the stone slab, scanning the ground as if he really might find some clue to explain what had happened to Tom. But there was nothing. He put his hands up to his head and clutched his hair. “What am I going to do?” he whispered. “What the
hell
am I going to do?”

He lowered his hands and rubbed his eyes.
He can’t have just vanished. He must be somewhere
. Alan stared at the dark stone and pictured the possibilities.
I had my back turned for a moment
. Yes. That was it. Tom must’ve made a run for it. He’d summoned up some reserve of strength, fuelled by fear and adrenalin, and escaped. But how? Perhaps, in his desperation, Tom had tried to climb down to the quarry. Alan shuffled across the ledge and stood at the brink. He swallowed, ran his tongue over his dry lips, and imagined Tom’s broken body, cruelly sprawled on rocks below. “No,” he whispered. “I didn’t hear him scream.” He took a breath and looked over the edge, peering down the almost vertical drop to the quarry far below. There was no sign of Tom.
Thank God for that
.

So where is he?
Could he have staggered up onto the slope above the ledge and hidden in the undergrowth? Perhaps—in which case he’d have left a trail. Alan forced himself to walk the length of the ledge, limping on his injured ankle and muttering under his breath. He turned his head from side to side, peering into the undergrowth, but it was a waste of time.
I’m just going through the motions
. This was what people did when they lost something, or someone, wasn’t it? Alan wasn’t really looking for Tom—not anymore. He wasn’t even seeing the ledge. In his mind, all he could see was the fear in Tom’s eyes as the blue sparks crawled over him, claiming him.
He was trying to show me something—I should’ve helped him.
Alan stood still and stared into the distance.
I should have
done
something.
But no. He’d stood by and let it happen. He’d been useless. Worse—he’d been a coward and now it was too late.

Alan closed his eyes, but it only made the memories brighter. “For god’s sake,” he muttered. He opened his eyes and tilted his head back, blinking rapidly. There had to be something he could understand—some explanation that made sense. There just
had
to be something he’d missed.

Alan shambled slowly back to the stone slab. He stood over it, searching its dull, dusty surface for a hint of anything unusual. But there were no sparks now, not even a faint glow to show where they’d been. Alan stared at the flat, black stone for a long time. He chewed the inside of his cheek, and then he made up his mind. He held his breath and bent down, reaching his hand toward the stone.
Don’t do it
, he told himself. But he was determined, and his fingers were already brushing against the stone’s cold surface. He pressed his hand flat against the slab, forcing his fingers through the fine layer of dust and grit.

He winced as he slid his hand slowly across the stone’s grimy surface, expecting at any moment to feel the jolt of an electric shock. Or something worse. But there was nothing; no strange buzzing sound, no flashes of light: nothing except the cold, solid flatness of polished stone.

Alan swore under his breath, then he sank to his knees, next to the stone, and knelt on the damp ground.
He’s gone.
He hung his head. “Tom,” he whispered. “Tom, you were telling the truth.”

Alan pinched the bridge of his nose. It was almost impossible to believe, but there was no other explanation. Tom had vanished, and somehow the stone was to blame. It had erased Tom from existence, ripped him from the world, and four years ago, exactly the same thing must’ve happened to his own son. Alan looked up at the stone. He wanted to hate it, but he could feel nothing. He wasn’t even angry anymore.
If I’d known the truth back then, would it have made any difference?
He shook his head sadly. No. He would never have believed it. And even if he had, he would still have blamed Tom, or Robbo as he’d called himself back then. He sniffed. “But, I wouldn’t have done all those things,” he murmured. “I would never have…” He let his voice trail away. He didn’t want to face the dreadful things he’d done to Tom, didn’t want to admit them, even to himself.

He put his head in his hands. “Oh, Jake,” he sobbed. “My son, my only boy. What happened to you?” And when the tears came, they were hot, and they burned as they ran down his cheeks. Alan had cried many times since he’d lost his boy, but now his sorrow flooded through him, hollowing him out, and the pain wracked his body, consuming him in its wicked darkness.

The pain would never end. But Alan didn’t care. He could die here on this lonely ledge, unnoticed and unmourned. His miserable life was the only thing he had left and it was no substitute for the loss of everything he’d loved.

Alan let the pain take him, let it wipe out his thoughts, let it crush the breath from his lungs. It didn’t matter. The only thing that could save him now, the only thing that could make his life worth living again, would be to see his son one last time, and for that, he’d give anything. For one more glimpse of Jake’s smile, he’d give his life without a second thought or a moment of regret.

“Jake,” Alan whispered. “Jake, come back to me.” Then, as loud as he could, his voice rasping in the back of his throat, he called out his son’s name. And he wept.

Chapter 40

2018

AT FIRST, Cally stares, wide-eyed in horror as the flecks of crackling light swarm toward her. But as the lights spin and flicker, curling up through the dark water, she tilts her head to one side, and her expression softens. The delicate tracery of light is beautiful, fascinating. And when the flickering blue tendrils reach out to her, stroking her skin, she does not flinch. The lights will do her no harm. Their cool, gentle beams will envelop her, protect her. And then she hears them. A chorus of whispering voices calling out to her, lullaby-soft, the voices of a thousand women. They know her, they remember her. She is one of them, and through the stone they are interconnected, across all of time. Their energy flows into her, through her, and she is limitless, almost overwhelmed by her own power. She can achieve anything.

But first, the voices tell her, there is something to be done. There is someone here who does not respect the stone—a man who would subvert its power. He must be stopped. And Cally smiles. She can bring this man to his knees. It will not even be difficult.

Crawford could only stand and watch as Cally fixed him with her glare. Slowly, she raised her hands and held them out in front of her, her fingers pointing directly at him. For a split second, he thought of backing away. But no. Why should he? The girl had no right to do this, no right to interfere. The stone was
his
and his alone.
It’s time to put an end to this
. He adjusted his stance and brought the Taser up. The corner of his mouth curled in contempt. The girl was an easy target.

Andrew stared at Cally, his face a mask of fear and confusion. He opened his mouth to call out, but suddenly, Crawford was in motion, swinging his Taser upward, taking aim at Cally. Andrew seized his chance and ran toward the older man, his arms outstretched.

And Cally roared. She opened her mouth and let loose a deep, guttural growl; a barrage of sound that swept through the tunnel and battered the men’s ears. Andrew stumbled but his momentum kept him going, and he staggered on toward Crawford.

Crawford shook his head and forced himself to concentrate. He breathed out slowly and corrected his aim. His finger tightened on the Taser’s trigger.