CHAPTER NINETEENFor the first time in what seemed like forever, Beatrice felt genuinely terrified. Not scared, or afraid, not anxious or the many other nouns that she’d heard people describe how they felt when confronted with their worst fears. This was bone-chilling, brain-seizing fear, the kind that robbed rational thought, the kind that turned each chamber of her heart to ice water.The land was gone. The sea was gone. Overhead the nebulous clouds and the stars in between were gone. All around the boat was an endless nothingness, so complete that it appeared both small and vast at the same time.This was The Darkness. She knew this with a certainty that almost had her legs collapsing beneath her. Her arms were heavy, hanging at her sides like they were as useless as her situation.“Well, I said I wanted to be in space but this isn’t quite what I had in mind,” Claire breathed beside her. “And here I thought this couldn’t get any worse.”Beatrice tried to speak but nothing came
CHAPTER TWENTYFalling, the sensationin her stomach was akin to going over the world’s largest speed bump. Beatrice had no concept of time or place, no affiliation with the laws of normality. There was just the sensation of a hundred butterflies in her belly.No sooner had she cleared the boat when the terrible rage that had consumed her vanished. The distance between her and Emily acted as a fire blanket, smothering the flames and leaving behind serenity, and the sensation of flight. She did not question it; she merely welcomed the innate, pervading peace.As she fell, she began to see a change in the fabric of darkness, as though a distant light was somehow eating into the blackness. She made out shapes below her, structures that seemed both familiar and alien in the same instant. They also appeared to have symmetry, either lined or blocked. As these shapes came into view she found herself looking down on an ancient town, the buildings in ruins, the streets nothing but strip
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONEThe man by the fire watched as a despondent Beatrice paced the sitting room. Twice she had appeared as though she intended to stomp out of the house, but the internal battle to go or remain always brought her back into the room where she would loudly air her frustrations.“I have to get out of here,” she said. “Surely I can’t be expected to do nothing?”“If you leave and Lucas finds this place, he will die,” the man said. “You will have to live with the fact that your actions were to blame.”Beatrice stopped pacing. She eyed the man with contempt. “He’s as good as dead now, though, right? I’ll never be with him. He’ll be gone forever.”The man offered her a forlorn smile. “The smallest of things can bring the greatest joys,” he said. “Objects of desire are made so by what we ascribe to them.”He looked down at his coat, and plucked a button from it as though it were a berry from a burgeoning fruit bush.He put it in his palm and held it out to her, and in the
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWOThe fog inthe streets made the drive to the library slow going, the density reflecting the headlamps to such a degree that Albert turned them off and used only sidelights.Sitting forward, he peered through the windscreen.“This isn’t normal,” he muttered.“Damn right,” said Dennis. “Normal is a night in the Salty Sailor drinkin’ pints of Cinder’s Cider until ye can’t tell difference between the landlord and a coat stand.”“How did we ever become friends?” Albert said.Before Dennis could reply, a shadow crossed in front of the car, forcing Albert to stamp on the brakes. Dennis whacked his head off the windscreen and cursed profusely as he rubbed his forehead.“Another piece of drivin’ like that an’ we ain’t goin’ to be friends much long after,” he grumbled.“I almost hit someone,” Albert said. His hands were gripping the wheel, and he’d stalled the engine. “Guess I’d fail if this was my driving test.”“That’s assumin’ ye ever took a test in the first
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREEAgnes wrinkled hernose despite the heavy scarf wrapped around her face.“Just when I thought we couldn’t sink any lower,” she said. Even though her voice was muffled, it bounced around the sewer tunnel, a narrow passageway of red bricks that stretched off into a seemingly infinite gloom.“I dunno,” said Dennis. He was up ahead, a handkerchief tied around his face, which made him look like a cowboy from an old movie. “I’ve drunk in worse places than this.”“You’re aware that fact surprises no one?” Albert said from in front of Dennis. He had his own mask, a heavy towel draped over his head and around his mouth like some flannel balaclava.“Let’s keep goin’,” Maud said from behind Agnes. The hideous wheeze of a gas mask respirator punctuated her words. “I ain’t sure if what’s niffin’ out there can be worse than the smell of rubber in this here headpiece.”Albert rubbed at his face. “Believe me, Maud, what’s out here is worse.”He had used the paraffin la
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOURIn the followingdays, the town of Dorsal Finn did what it did best, it healed. Part of this process involved embracing the nuances that came with living in the town, whilst on another level it meant denying a fair few things too.Some things were hard to deny, the tragedy of the many lives lost on the night The Spirit of the Oceanwas claimed by the sea. The reasons for its loss were compiled by Trevor, the only surviving crew member, and supported by his adamant witnesses, that for reasons unknown, a great explosion occurred in the lower decks, sinking the vessel within minutes.In claiming ignorance, Trevor was able to fudge the detail, and while he was never able to return to the sea as a crewman, he did have more adventures, thanks to his friendship with Claire, and a new TV show called ‘Perils of the Sea’ where he acted as a consultant, and her co-presenter. Before she left town, Claire had made Thomas a promise to return once a year and they woul
ABOUT THE AUTHORDave Jeffery is author of 12 novels, two collections and numerous short stories. His Necropolis Rising series and yeti adventure Frostbite have both featured on the Amazon #1 bestseller list. His YA work features critically acclaimed Beatrice Beecham series and Finding Jericho, a contemporary mental health novel which has featured on the BBC Health and the Independent Schools Entrance Examination Board’s recommended reading lists. Jeffery is a member of the Society of Authors, British Fantasy Society (where he is a regular book reviewer), and the Horror Writers Association. He is also a registered mental health professional with a BSc (Hons) in Mental Health Studies and a Master’s Degree in Health Studies. Jeffery is married with two children and lives in Worcestershire, UK.
THE END?Not quite ... Have you tried Beatrice Beecham’s Cryptic Crypt: A Supernatural Adventure/Mystery Novelby Dave Jeffery? We included an excerpt from the book if you keep paging.Or dive into more Tales from the Darkest Depths:Novels:The Mourner’s Cradle: A Widow’s Journeyby Tommy B. SmithHouse of Sighs(with sequel novella) by Aaron DriesBeyond Night by Eric S. Brown and Steven L. ShrewsburyThe Third Twin: A Dark Psychological Thrillerby Darren SpeegleAletheia: A Supernatural Thrillerby J.S. BreukelaarWhere the Dead Go to Dieby Mark Allan Gunnells and Aaron DriesSarah Killian: Serial Killer (For Hire!)by Mark SheldonThe Final Cut by Jasper BarkBlackwater Valby William GormanPretty Little Dead Girls: A Novel of Murder and Whimsy by Mercedes M. YardleyNameless: The Darkness Comes by Mercedes M. YardleyNovellas:A Season in Hellby Kenneth W. CainQuiet Places: A Novella of Cosmic Folk Ho