Fading Light Read online

  Fading Light

  Volume Two in the Fractured Light Trilogy

  Nick Cook

  For dreamers everywhere, belief is what helps to make it real.

  ‘The web of our life is of a mingled yarn, good and ill together.’

  William Shakespeare

  Copyright 2018 © Nicholas P. Cook

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Published worldwide by Voice from the Clouds Limited.

  www.voicefromtheclouds.com

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Afterword

  About Nick Cook

  Prologue

  Gemma Elliot stared at the shadows beyond the pool of illumination from her bedside light, which she never dared turn off now. The twenty-year-old let out a small breath of air as she clung to Raffles, her childhood thread-worn teddy bear, just as she had when she’d suffered from night terrors all those years ago. If only that was all this was.

  The stillness grew deeper around her.

  Outside in the far distance, a church clock chimed. Gemma counted the final notes of the solitary bell. Ten, eleven, twelve…

  The last chime vibrated to stillness on the night air. She held her breath and hugged Raffles harder.

  She wiped her hand across her forehead, but it was cool. So this wasn’t a fever related to her catching the Zoom virus a couple of months ago, named because of its rapid spread around the world via airline passengers. Now many people kept off the streets or at least took the precaution of wearing face masks, if they did venture out. Yes, the last six months had been surreal for everyone, but for Gemma more than most…

  She gazed around at her childhood bedroom. She still couldn’t quite believe she’d ended up dropping out of uni and moved back home with her parents. But she hadn’t had a lot of choice after her spiral into madness. Coming home was her last-ditch attempt to hang on to the remaining fragments of her sanity.

  Her curtains fluttered, even though the window was shut fast. She felt an icy breath on her cheek as the bedside light flickered off and plunged the room into choking blackness.

  She squeezed her eyes shut, her heart racing. ‘Leave me alone,’ Gemma whispered into the darkness, even though she knew it wouldn’t do any good. Justin, the nickname she’d given the monster so as to downplay it, had a mind of its own.

  The silence grew heavy as the air pressed in on her from every side.

  Then it began as it always did…

  A scratching sound squealed across her attic-bedroom window, just as it had first done in Gemma’s uni hall of residence. The blood roared in her ears and she buried her head under her pillow, trying to shut out the noise.

  The window rattled as Justin tried to get in.

  This isn’t real, isn’t real, she repeated in her head, as Mum had taught her. An NHS nurse, she was now seriously overworked thanks to the Zoom virus. There’d been hundreds of fatalities, particularly among the elderly and infirm. Gemma curled into a foetal position as cold sweat soaked through her PJs.

  With a crash, sparkling glass shards flew inwards as the window shattered. A terrible wind roared in and ripped the duvet from her body. She gripped on to the sides of her bed, watching childhood dolls fly from their shelves out into the gaping mouth of the dark whirlwind that roared beyond her window.

  Justin began to form, a ghostly, horned demon. He stepped forward to look down at her in bed, there but not there, not much more than a thickness in the air. With a rattle, the bed began to pitch beneath her like a wild horse trying to escape from this horror.

  ‘Go away!’ Gemma screamed at the phantom towering over her bed.

  Justin reached out his long, dark, gnarled fingers towards her.

  She tried to scream, but her voice was trapped deep inside her throat.

  Footsteps pounded from the landing. Gemma’s bedroom door burst open. Mum and Dad rushed in. Heads down, they fought through the wind.

  Mum grabbed on to Gemma’s hand, her expression several degrees above frightened.

  ‘Leave Gem alone!’ her dad shouted at the monster neither of them could actually see.

  With a roar of air, Justin shimmered and vanished. Gemma’s hair continued to swirl about her head as the wild wind ripped her tears away.

  ‘Steve, the window!’ Mum cried out.

  Dad edged his way forward through the gale as the curtains streamed straight out, flowing in rags towards the gaping mouth of the black whirlpool outside.

  Mum wrapped her arms round Gem as they watched Dad brace himself against the edge of the bay window. He reached into the teeth of the gale and unlatched the two Victorian shutters at the sides of the windows. They slammed shut and he threw the bolts across, leaning against them as they bucked and rattled under his hands.

  Gemma pressed herself into her mother’s warmth, breathing in the hint of cooking spice on her skin. Her love and the safety of her encircling arms made her feel like a young child again.

  ‘Breathe, Gem, breathe,’ Mum said.

  Gemma gulped in air.

  Mum stroked Gemma’s hair. ‘Slowly…’

  Gemma steadied her breathing and gradually the icy grip of fear loosened around her heart. The roar of the wind died away and, with a sigh, the faint murmur of London night-time traffic returned.

  Mum gripped Gemma’s face. ‘Is it over, my love?’

  Gemma pulled her sweat-soaked hair away from her eyes and looked inside herself. The feeling of dread had disappeared.

  ‘I think so—’ She broke off as the table light flickered back on and she felt her mum lurch against her. She cradled her hand and added, ‘Yes, Justin’s gone.’

  Dad sank on to the end of her bed, breathing hard. ‘We can’t take any more of this, Sarah. We need to get help.’

  ‘Not this conversation again,’ Mum replied.

  Gemma bit her lip. ‘Dad’s right. Whatever Justin is, he’s getting stronger. This has already gone too far. I’m way beyond scared about what he might do next.’

  Mum’s eyes locked with Dad’s. ‘Are you sure, Gem? Really sure, I mean?’

  Gemma wiped away the tear that had begun to roll down her mum’s face. ‘Yes, I am.’

  Her mum let out a half-stifled sob, nodded and kissed Gemma’s forehead.

  ‘I’ll call Father Collins in the morning,’ Dad said. He looked at the closed shutters and the remains of Gemma’s doll collection, now strewn on the floor. ‘I don’t know about either of you, but I need a stiff drink.’

  ‘I don’t think I could handle anything stronger than tea at the moment,’ Gemma said.

  ‘I’m with you on that one,’ Mum replied. ‘Come on, let’s go and put the kettle on.’

  ‘And tomorrow we’ll get that window fixed up as good as new,’ Dad said, practical as always, seeing this as just a buildi
ng problem to be solved.

  If only.

  But as Gemma swung her legs out of bed and stood up Dad crossed to her and hugged her hard. There were no words – what could anyone say about what had just happened? All Gemma could do was hang on to the people she loved.

  She watched the young girl and her dad fly their kite next to them. As it soared up into the blue sky, Gemma took deep breaths of the cold air, chasing away the dark cobwebs of the previous night. Things were already feeling a bit better. The more she’d talked to Father Mathews, the more the weight pressing down on her lifted. He’d come came as soon as Dad called the next morning. Their usual priest was unavailable, so Father Mathews rushed over in his place. She’d left Mum and Dad at home and gone for a walk on the heath, for some fresh air. She guessed he wanted to talk to her alone, without her parents’ well-meaning interruptions. And he’d turned out to be a good listener – not interrupting, and giving her sympathetic looks at all the right moments.

  The priest sat next to her on the bench as kites traced dashes of colour over Parliament Hill.

  ‘It’s a good flyer, isn’t it?’ the priest said as he cupped his hand to gaze up at the young girl’s red kite. It shone like a brilliant ruby in the sky.

  Gemma nodded. ‘Dad used to bring me up here to fly kites, when I was a child.’

  ‘Happy times, no doubt.’

  ‘Very.’

  With a moan, the wind became blustery and the young girl squealed as her kite threatened to tear the handle from her hand. The dad grabbed it, leaning back as the wind howled harder.

  Below them at the foot of Parliament Hill, a vast bank of fog had appeared and began to creep up towards them. One by one, the houses and trees were swallowed by it. Gemma frowned. She wasn’t a weather expert, but she knew it was too windy for fog to form, especially in the middle of what was meant to be summer. Global warming was getting seriously weird.

  The wind strengthened to a full-blown gale. As clouds rolled in overhead, the numerous kite flyers began to leave. The panorama of the city had already become a steely grey band through the building gloom.

  ‘We should get going like everybody else,’ she said.

  Father Mathews just smiled back at her. ‘But why rush, Gemma?’

  ‘Because we’re about to get swept off Hampstead Heath by this hurricane!?’

  ‘Oh, you shouldn’t worry about that, Gemma. And look, here comes a good friend of mine. You’re going to like Gavin.’ The priest raised a hand to greet a tall teenager with a broad build striding towards them ahead of the rolling fog bank.

  A nagging worry coiled inside her. Gemma pulled the hood of her uni fleece over her head and stood up. ‘I’d better get home, Father Mathews.’

  The priest’s smile became more fixed. ‘I’m sorry, but that won’t be possible, Gemma.’

  The scent of the priest’s aftershave filled her nose with its sickly sweetness, but there was a strange aroma just beneath it too. ‘No, it isn’t safe in this wind. Let’s go.’ Over his shoulder, she spotted her parents with an older man she didn’t know running up the other side of Parliament Hill.

  She waved and started towards them.

  But Father Mathews’s hand appeared on her shoulder, holding her back. ‘I’m sorry, Gemma, but you have to come with us for your own safety.’

  She clenched her fists and turned towards him. ‘OK, you’re starting to seriously freak me out now.’

  He gave her a tight smile, tore his dog collar off and threw it on to the ground.

  ‘You need to relax, Gemma, and this will go much more easily for you.’

  She tried to pull away from him, but his fingers bit into her shoulder. She shoved Mathews hard against his sternum, but it was like pushing against a massive boulder. For an old guy, he was stupidly strong.

  A pulse of real fear shot through her and she started to struggle. ‘Just let me bloody go.’

  ‘That’s simply not going to happen.’

  Gavin reached them and stared at Mathews. ‘Where’s Archios?’ Gavin asked.

  ‘He’s moved on to our main plan and has left me to conclude this operation.’

  The teenager nodded. ‘All right. What are your orders?’

  ‘Gemma is weakened, but we must act quickly and take her before her parents can help her.’

  She stared between them. Although Gemma didn’t understand their words, she could see the hardness in their eyes. Fear knotted inside her.

  Her parents and the stranger rushed towards them waving their arms.

  Mathews raised his chin at them. ‘You need to buy me a little bit of time, Gavin.’

  A twisted smile spread across the teenager’s face. ‘It will be my pleasure.’ He fixed his grey eyes on the closing group.

  Cold horror spun through Gemma as the teenager’s body began to ripple as if it were made of clay. The world around them became darker and full of swirling shadows. Then Gavin’s body broke apart and dissolved into a cloud of flowing darting crow shapes like a special effect in a movie. The shapes spun and spiralled, knotting together into a new form. A flickering black wolf stood where the teenager had been, massive and terrible, with pointed black teeth and grey staring eyes.

  Gemma managed to keep her scream from bubbling up as her mind scrambled to make sense of what she was seeing.

  The wolf howled and charged at her parents and the man.

  Gemma whirled round to Mathews. ‘Please, don’t let him hurt them!’

  But he’d become as still as a statue. Then, with a clatter of wings, he broke apart too, into hundreds more of the darting shadowy birds.

  Gemma tried to cry out as the shapes swirled about her, but the bird creatures swept tight round her chest, choking the air out of her lungs. She felt her feet lift from the ground.

  A crackling noise rang out. Between the darting shapes, Gemma caught sight of the stranger beside her parents firing a taser at the wolf. The electrodes buried themselves into the creature and the wolf sprawled to the ground. It simply snapped at the projectiles, ripping them out as the birds took her higher into the sky.

  Mum and Dad stared up at Gemma, their mouths hanging open. The man fumbled to reload the taser as the wolf gathered itself and charged again. She didn’t see what happened next, the view swirling away behind the curtain of shadowy crows.

  But she heard it.

  A woman’s sharp shriek, full of fear, coming from somewhere beneath her…

  ‘Mum!’ she cried out.

  A man’s awful twisted scream…

  ‘Dad, no!’

  The crows squeezed against Gemma. Just for a moment, she saw a ruby kite framed against the dwindling patch of blue above. Then the dark clouds ate it and the world turned to flecked granite. She was helpless as the darting black shapes carried her even higher, their darkness reaching into her and extinguishing her thoughts.

  Chapter One

  The underwater world, tinted turquoise and criss-crossed by sunlight shafts, rippled through the view framed by my diving mask. As the gurgle of bubbles from my regulator reverberated through the water, a rare sense of peace took hold of me.

  Next to me, Chloe’s hair waved around her head like fronds of red seaweed. In her wetsuit, she looked every part the diver, and along with the lovely curves of her figure… I blew out a silent breath.

  This was our first free water dive. Kelly, a qualified scuba instructor, had promised us this, once we were ready. Now I’d got the knack of equalising the pressure of my ears, not to mention ignoring the overriding animal instinct that I would drown, the whole experience was incredible. No wonder Mum had loved diving so much, or so Kelly told me. She’d taught her too, and it seemed that I was following the family rite of passage.

  Now, around ten metres beneath the surface, Kelly made an A-OK symbol with her hand at us. We both returned it, although I still struggled not to react with a thumbs up. I’d learnt that in diving that actually meant I needed to get to the surface.

  Ahead of us, the
shallow bay dropped away into the darkness of deep water. Through the hazy water, I could just make out the anchor line of Moon Dancer disappearing into the depths.

  We floated like three astronauts at the edge of the world, the island of Alderney at our backs, the unknown in front of us.

  I glanced at Mum’s old diver’s watch and saw we’d already been underwater for forty-five minutes. I could have sworn it had only been ten. Next I checked my pressure gauge, just as Kelly had shown us. I still had plenty of air left, but the dial was creeping downwards and I knew we’d need to surface again soon to be on the safe side.

  But I wanted this perfect moment to last for ever. Yet, even if I had endless air, there was another reason we wouldn’t be able to stay out here much longer.

  According to the news, a massive once-in-a-lifetime storm was predicted to hit the Channel Islands with full force later tonight. In fact, the sea was noticeably choppier already. Despite that, the sense of stillness inside me deepened, as my breathing grew slower and steadier—

  A woman’s scream cut through the water and crashed into my thoughts. My heart roared and I jerked round towards Chloe, expecting to see her in trouble. But there she was, floating free, her posture relaxed as she took photos of a small shoal of fish passing beneath us.

  And how could I have heard a scream underwater, anyway?

  Kelly was in front of me now and giving me the A-OK symbol again. This time I shook my head and jabbed with my thumb towards the surface, using the sign correctly for the first time. She nodded and we all started to slowly rise.