The End of the World Ch.3 A Night Adrift

Darcy rose stiffly to her feet; the seemingly dry earth beneath the tree had seeped it’s hidden dampness into her body as she sat there, leaving her shivering. She rubbed her face; her head throbbed with a dull ache from her crying.

She had barely noticed the sunshine turning to honey around her and the day dwindling into dusk, but evening was catching up and the streetlights had flickered to life. She thought about heading back inside, but couldn’t make herself move. Anger still churned in her stomach, threatening to set off a new onslaught of tears.

Her gaze followed the road as it curved steeply around the coastline and before she could think better of it she had started down the hillside.

 

The road ahead appeared abandoned, but further away she could make out the silhouette of a rooftop against the night sky giving her aimless walking sudden direction and eventually she found herself outside a small ramshackle cottage, unsure of what she was really doing there.

She peered uneasily at the cottage; at first glance there didn’t seem to be anybody home; the windows were dark and like Gull’s Nest it seemed to have been abandoned to the elements. Yet still, as she stood there, a creeping sensation came over her; it felt almost as if the house was peering back at her.

With the sun gone, the winds blowing in from the sea were even colder and it really was getting very dark; much darker than the nights in Bridgeport ever got. She shuddered and pulled up her shoulders against the cold. She didn’t want to be out here anymore.

 

Drawn inexplicably closer to the deserted cottage, her tentative steps whispering against the grass, Darcy bent aside the branches of the shrubbery and leaned in to get a look through one of the windows.

Her heart beat slowly, but hard inside her chest. There was something unsettling about the house, however empty it seemed, something that made the tiny hairs on her arms stand on end. Darcy let her eyes sink into the pitch black darkness behind the panes.

Then a flicker of movement behind the curtain shot ice through her entire body and she flinched backward, her breath coming in short sharp gasps. She stared wide eyed at the window, but what had been there was gone, leaving her wondering whether she’d imagined it.

“What are you doing?”
 

 

Darcy squeaked and spun her head around. She blinked dumbly at the boy; there was a light on behind him that hadn’t been lit a minute ago. They watched each other awkwardly. Darcy sized him up in a single disparaging onceover, letting out a stifled groan.

“Sorry, I didn’t think anyone lived here,” she shrugged one shoulder carelessly.

“I live here!” he contradicted her needlessly and Darcy rolled her eyes a little. “Um…” his pudgy face flushed red, making the spots and blotches in his skin even more evident. “I’m Martin… Shore, Martin Shore,” he continued and smiled nervously.

“Darcy,” Darcy mumbled reluctantly, but his eyes brightened.

“You’re the new one, right? In Gull’s Nest?” he didn’t seem to mind her noncommittal shrug in response, but pressed on. “You know, you look kinda…” he trailed off, brow knitting. “You’re ok, right? Cause you look like you’ve been crying, is all?”

Darcy tensed and looked away, suddenly self conscious, she probably looked a mess. She shrugged again, hoping he would let it drop, but he kept looking at her expectantly.

“I had a fight… with my dad,” she clarified.

“Oh,” Martin’s eyes grew troubled. “That’s… that’s too bad…” he fell silent and his eyes became distant. Darcy fidgeted uneasily, trying to come up with a reason to leave, but then he blinked and shot her an excited grin. “Hey, I know!” he leaned in closer and hissed eagerly. “Fireworks!”

 

Curiosity getting the better of her, Darcy trailed mutely after Martin to the back of the house. They passed through an arch in the rickety fence and Darcy’s eyes lingered on the copperplate fish hanging overhead. Then she glanced warily around and realized the fish was in fact pretty normal compared to the other items cluttering the backyard.

“Fanny’s,” Martin mumbled as a way of explanation when he caught her staring at the huge metal squid guarding the old stone shed like something taken out of Lovecraft. Darcy mouthed something in response, trying to seem casual rather than disturbed.

Martin motioned for her to stay put as he vanished into the main house and Darcy felt her eyes go wide as he returned with a huge, oriental looking rocket.

 

“OK, here we go!” his eyes sparkled as he rigged it up, but Darcy felt her stomach turn over in apprehension.

“Are you sure about this?” she whispered.

“Yeah, done it a million times! Ok, stand back!”

Instinctively Darcy covered her ears as the rocket ignited and flew into the air with a shrill whistle. It exploded with a deafening bang and lit up the night with a thousand sparkling lights in white and pink, Darcy swallowed and stared, not able to take her eyes off it.

 

“MARTIN!” a second explosion, but of a vocal nature, erupted behind them and they both jumped, turning to watch an outraged woman coming toward them with rapid steps. “Do you have to blow things up when I’m working?!” she ranted.

“Sorry, Fanny,” Martin’s face took on a beet root color and he glanced nervously at Darcy, who cringed, wishing the ground would swallow her up.

“Sure, you’re always sorry! Tell it to my decapitated masterpiece in there!” Fanny sighed dramatically, but her expression softened. Then to Darcy’s chagrin she turned to study her thoughtfully, confusion evident in her frown. “Uh, hi there… I… have I met you before?” she laughed a little awkwardly. “I’m sorry, I just can’t seem to keep Martin’s classmates straight.”

 

“Darcy moved into Gull’s Nest today!” Martin chimed in readily, saving Darcy from having to find her voice. “Remember, it’s been empty since old Codgers died?”

“Oh, I see,” Fanny replied absently and then her eyes widened slightly. “Oh, I see! He hasn’t been telling you ghost stories, has he?” she asked gently, but with a suspicious glance at Martin, Darcy shook her head mutely. “That’s all right then… oh, but honey, you look a mess! Come in and get cleaned up, won’t you?”

Despite the warmth of her voice Darcy felt a chill down her back. She looked down at her feet in embarrassment and stroke a strand of hair out of her face.

“No, I should probably… it’s late and…” she hardly recognized her voice, it sounded hoarse to her own ears, but Fanny just smiled and wished her goodnight. With a fleeting look at Martin, who gave her a lopsided grin and an odd little wave, Darcy mumbled a quick goodbye and left.

Deciding to put as much space between herself and the eerie cottage with its peculiar residents as possible, Darcy headed back onto the road and began walking further along the coastline. The sea reached far into the night and its forlorn sighs reached up after her pulling her toward the edge of the cliffs.

As she stood there wondering absently what time it was, the sound of her phone broke into the dark, a shrill repetitive melody that startled a bird from a nearby shrub. Darcy drew a shaky breath as she looked at the display ready to pick up, but then hesitated. The signals echoed in the night and when they finally stopped the silence seemed even louder.

She put the phone to her ear and listened to her father’s voice. “Darce, it’s dad, where are you?” she felt a spark of guilt that she fanned into anger. She’d never go back to that disgusting place! Never! He could sit there and rot for all she cared.

She set off down the hillside, stumbling and slipping in the dark, with only an unclear notion of where she was going. The uneven ground suddenly gave way for a trampled path leading downward in the direction of the shore.

The cold air catching in her throat, Darcy followed the path until she was standing on what must be a public beach, in the dark she could barely make out a lonely picnic table and a concrete fire pit surrounded by haphazardly placed rocks and a heavy tree trunk.

Wishing she had something to light a fire with she sidled in between the rocks around the pit, stepping on some empty soda cans as she did so and then sank down digging her hands into her armpits.

 

It was the heavy steps moving from sand onto grass that yanked her out of her thoughts and she stared bewildered at the tall, serious policeman towering above her.

“I thought I’d ran the lot of you off two hours ago!” he said in an exasperated tone. “What are you doing out here alone at this hour anyway?” he continued, clearly annoyed, but beginning to sound concerned. Darcy swallowed, a sense of alarm creeping into her consciousness, when she didn’t respond he sighed heavily. “Well, what’s your name?”

“Darcy,” she whispered and felt her eyes find their way to the ground.

“All right, I’m officer Cruz, you’re not out partying tonight, are you Darcy?” he said, not really asking her a question, his voice was firm, but kind and when she shook her head he patted her shoulder gently. “Well, time to go home, I’m sure you’ve got someone waiting!”

Darcy felt her stomach drop.

 

He led her to his waiting patrol car, holding the door open while she slipped into the front seat, cold sweat making her shirt stick to her back. He handed her a tissue once he was behind the wheel and she cleaned up her smudged makeup as well as she could.

The drive back felt far too short. Officer Cruz parked on the curb and Darcy shrank back in her seat as he rounded the car; from the corner of her eye she could see the door open and her father emerge.

Even if she’d known what to say he wouldn’t have given her a chance to say it. She’d never seen her father so livid in her entire life. He didn’t yell, but his voice as he tore into her held an edge of underlying fury and he advanced on her with a look in his eye that for a moment made her certain he would hit her.

Officer Cruz made an almost imperceptible move in their direction, clearing his throat, but her father was already making a conscious effort to reign in his temper and turned to answer the policeman’s questions.

 

Her father’s hand on her arm felt like a vice as he steered her into the house, he seemed to be beyond words. The door slammed behind them and he gave her a small push in the direction of the room that was hers.

“Just go!” he hissed, biting off the words. His finger stabbed the air in front of him. “Go to bed! I don’t want to see you, I don’t want to hear you! Just go!!”

Darcy felt a tremor run through her and she took a faltering step away from him, staring in shock, before she suppressed the tears that threatened to well up and walked stiffly into the bedroom, closing the door behind her soundlessly.

TBC

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