Outcast (The Darkeningstone Series Book 2) (40 page)

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Authors: Mikey Campling

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BOOK: Outcast (The Darkeningstone Series Book 2)
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Andrew’s hands were a hair’s breadth from clutching Crawford’s clothes. He launched himself at Crawford and closed his eyes.

But before the men made contact, a flare of pure, white light erupted from Cally, cocooning her in a whirling cloak of crackling energy. Crawford dropped his flashlight and raised his hand to shield his eyes against the blazing light. He couldn’t fire his Taser, couldn’t see a thing.

 

Cally blinks slowly. A maelstrom of vivid blue beams spirals around her. It is intensely bright, but it doesn’t dazzle her.
It’s keeping me safe
. She purses her lips. Safety is not enough. It is time to deal with the interloper. She glances at her hands and a cascade of swirling sparks flies from her fingertips and surges through the air, hurtling toward the two men.

 

Andrew was in mid-air, leaping toward Crawford, when the shockwave slammed into him. It threw him backward, tossing his body aside like a dry leaf in a gale. He flew across the tunnel and landed heavily on his back. The impact drove the breath from his chest and he gasped for air.

But Crawford remained standing, rooted to the spot. The blast of raw energy tore at his clothes, his hair, but he could not move. Every muscle in his body was taut, every joint rigid. He could only watch as the jagged streams of light wrapped themselves around him, blinding him, squeezing the life from him. In seconds, he was shrouded in a web of freezing light. It crackled across his skin, leaching the heat from his body, piercing his flesh like a hundred hypodermic needles. Sparks curled along his arm, racing toward the Taser. The weapon grew hot in Crawford’s hand, but he couldn’t let it go, couldn’t even uncurl his fingers. The Taser whined and fizzed as its handle blistered and burned, spattering his fingers with molten plastic. A harsh, rasping cry of agony escaped through his clenched teeth, and with a final outburst of light and sound, the smouldering Taser exploded in his hand.

 

Cally lowered her arms and the streams of light dimmed and curled away from her, fading into the darkness, sliding back to the black stone beneath the water. But the voices remained with her, whispering into her thoughts:
It’s all right, we only did what had to be done
. Then suddenly, the sense of energy, of connection, was gone. The silence hissed in her ears. She was alone again.
What the hell just happened?
She put her hands up to cover her mouth. Her arms were heavy and her fingers trembled. There was sweat on her cheeks, and her hands were rough, encrusted with a layer of grime and grit.

The darkness closed in on her, and there was only one thought in her mind:
I’ve got to get out of here
. She took a breath, and tried to hold it, but her chest shook, and she couldn’t help but let out a low moan of despair.

 

Andrew picked himself up off the ground and stood, although his legs were unsteady. He’d seen Crawford wrapped in writhing light, seen the Taser explode in his hand, seen the older man crumple as the bright beams unfurled from his body and flew across the tunnel, fizzing along the damp stone walls to disappear in the distance. Now, the acrid stench of burning plastic filled the tunnel and caught in Andrew’s throat. He coughed, took a breath, and almost gagged. There was another smell in the air, even more pungent: singed flesh. Crawford must’ve been badly burned. Andrew swallowed hard.
I should fetch help, or get him to a doctor
. A grunt. Then suddenly, Crawford’s voice hissed and whispered in the chill, dank air. His furious muttering echoed from the stone walls, amplified by the emptiness of the tunnel. Andrew shuddered.
He’s still alive
. But was he still a threat? Andrew moved his head from side to side, trying to pinpoint Crawford’s position. But another sound grabbed his attention—
Cally!
She was whimpering, sobbing, alone in the dark.
The hell with Crawford
. He had to get to Cally and take her to safety. He took a step forward and opened his mouth to call to her.

A light flared in the darkness. Andrew flinched, raised his hands to protect himself, but it was only Crawford’s flashlight, its beam weak and unsteady. And Crawford was pointing it directly at Cally.

“You bitch,” Crawford snarled, his voice hoarse with rage. “You’ll pay for this.” He staggered toward the pit and aimed his flashlight down at the water, searching out the pit’s edge. “I’ll deal with you properly this time.” He leaned forward, ready to step down into the pit.

Andrew scowled and strode forward. “You stay away from her,” he growled. Crawford hesitated. He turned, the beam of his flashlight slicing through the darkness, but he didn’t see Andrew until it was too late. Andrew grabbed Crawford’s arm and spun him around, pushing him away from the pit. But despite the older man’s injuries, there was nothing wrong with his reactions. Crawford lashed out with his good hand, the metal flashlight held tightly in his fist. He threw his shoulder into the punch and his fist caught Andrew squarely on his right eye. Andrew reeled back, shaking his head. A burst of red light blurred his vision and the pain arced across his skull. Crawford seized his advantage and charged at Andrew.

Andrew’s eyesight returned—just in time. As Crawford barrelled into him, Andrew grabbed hold of Crawford’s jacket with both hands and turned on his heel, using the older man’s momentum against him. He swung Crawford across the tunnel, hurling him toward the stone wall. But Crawford was quick on his feet. He stumbled but recovered quickly, shifting his weight to regain his balance. He spun around and sprang forward, then kicked out hard at Andrew’s kneecap. But thanks to the flashlight, Andrew saw him coming. He threw himself back into the shadows, and Crawford’s kick missed its target by a millimetre.

Andrew swallowed hard. He’d thought that Crawford would be beaten by his injuries. He hadn’t expected him to fight back, but now the older man was already stalking toward him, moving with a deadly purpose, like a demon in the dark, his good hand raised in a fist.

Andrew glanced nervously from left to right, but there was no favourable ground here, no refuge. Every nerve fibre, every muscle in his body told him to run, to get as far away from Crawford as he could. But that was out of the question.
I’ve got to keep Cally safe
. Andrew flexed his fingers, tensed his shoulders. There was no way around it. He had to put Crawford out of action, and for that, he needed to get in close.

“Crawford!” he yelled. “You’ve ruined everything. I was playing her until you barged in.”

Crawford hesitated, missed his step.

Andrew licked his lips nervously. Good. He was getting through to him. “Come on, let’s go and get her. We’ll take her out together.”

Crawford halted in front of him and shone his flashlight into Andrew’s eyes. “Pathetic,” he sneered.

Andrew didn’t blink. He needed to keep him talking. As long as the older man was focused on his face, he wouldn’t see what Andrew was doing, wouldn’t notice him slipping his hand into his jacket pocket, and couldn’t know what he was holding in his fist. “You’re hurt,” Andrew said. “We need to get you to a hospital.”

Crawford shook his head, a grim smile on his lips, and stepped to one side. Andrew turned to face him and immediately realised his mistake. Now the tunnel wall was directly behind him. The next time Crawford came at him, he couldn’t dodge back to stay out of reach.
He didn’t buy it
. But it didn’t matter. He’d gained himself a little time.
It’s now or never
, he told himself.
Come on, you bastard
.

He didn’t have to wait long. Crawford dropped his flashlight and lunged toward him, faster than Andrew could’ve anticipated, reaching for Andrew’s throat with both hands. Crawford was a horror of burned and bloody flesh, a monstrous creature, consumed with a frenzy of rabid rage. Andrew’s stomach turned. The ground shifted beneath his feet. But he had to let the man come at him. Crawford crashed into Andrew, pinning him against the wall. But this was exactly what Andrew needed. He waited until Crawford’s hands were closing around his throat, and then he struck. With his left hand, he grabbed Crawford’s injured wrist and twisted it outwards with all his strength. At the same time, he drove his right hand into Crawford’s thigh, stabbing the drug-filled injector firmly into the older man’s muscle.

Crawford let out a strangled cry as his wrist was wrenched beyond its limits. But he wasn’t in pain for long. The anaesthetic worked quickly, and Crawford collapsed, falling against Andrew like a sack of wet sand. Andrew staggered for a second as he took Crawford’s weight on his arms, then he lowered him to the ground, laying him on his side. He moved Crawford’s arm so he’d stay in something like the recovery position, then he stepped back.

“Bloody hell,” Andrew muttered. He leaned his hands on his knees and hung his head, breathing hard. His heart was racing, his mind a whirl. But surely, the worst was over—it had to be. He closed his eyes. The only sounds in the tunnel were his heavy breathing and the gentle lapping of water against the edges of the pit.

“Oh my god,” Cally whispered, her voice strained. “Oh my god.”

Andrew opened his eyes and stood up straight, looking toward the sound of Cally’s voice. He couldn’t see her, but it sounded as if she was backing away from him, moving farther into the tunnel. “It’s all right,” he said. “He can’t hurt you now. I’ve put him out of action.”

Cally gasped. “You’ve…you’ve killed him.”

“No. Listen, Cally, he’s fine. He’s just drugged. Honestly. He’ll be fine.”

But Cally continued to retreat, her legs splashing through the water as she backed away. “Who
are
you? You said…I thought you…”

Andrew shook his head. This would be easier if they could just see each other. He scanned the ground, searching for Crawford’s flashlight, but there was no sign of it. He looked back toward the sound of Cally’s voice and, straining his eyes against the darkness, he took a single step toward her. “Cally, I had to stop him. He was going to hurt you.”

“But you were going to help him. I heard you.
Bring her in together
—that’s what you said.”

Andrew ran a hand over his face. “That was a lie. I was trying to confuse him, trying to get him close.”

“I don’t believe you,” Cally said. “I don’t trust you. I want you to go. Just go.”

“I can’t do that, Cally. It’s not safe to leave you. I don’t even know what happened to you. It was…I don’t know what to say. I don’t even know if you’re all right. Are you? Are you all right?”

“No. I’m not bloody well all right. And I’m not going to be all right as long as I’m anywhere near you.”

Andrew took a breath. “Fine. Let’s just get you out of here, and then I’ll go back to London. You’ll never see me again—I promise. But I can’t leave you down here. It isn’t safe. Crawford wouldn’t have come here alone.”

“Oh no,” Cally moaned. “It never ends.”

“Come on,” Andrew said. “We have to get moving—right now. They could be here any second.”

Cally sniffed loudly as though fighting back her tears. “Why?” she demanded. “Why did you people come here? What do you want from me?”

“I can’t explain that now. But it was all Crawford. He sent me here. But I’m not on his side. I want to get you away. I want to get you home.”

“I don’t believe you,” Cally said.

Andrew shook his head slowly. “I don’t blame you. But listen, Cally, there will be other people, just like Crawford, on their way right now. ” He paused. “Do you really want to face them on your own?”

Cally hesitated. “No.”

“So how about this?” Andrew said. “I’ll lead the way, and make sure it’s safe. You just follow along. You can keep your distance.”

“But…what if they’re waiting for us?”

“I’ll think of something. I’ll tell them I’m bringing you in and say that Crawford needs them down here. As soon as they’re out of the way, we’ll run for it.”

Cally took a breath. “All right,” she said, trying to keep her voice strong. “But you’ve got to keep well in front—I don’t want you anywhere near me.”

“Sure,” Andrew said. He backed away. “I’ll give you some space.”

“Stay back then. I’m coming out.”

Andrew tilted his head and listened as Cally waded slowly through the dark water. The splashing sounds grew louder, and then he could just make out her outline in the gloom. “Do you want a hand?”

“No. I’m fine.” She slipped a little on the damp stone floor as she clambered out of the hole, and cursed under her breath, but she saved herself from falling.

Andrew stepped forward, but she must’ve heard him move. “I’m all right,” she snapped. “Leave me alone.”

“OK,” Andrew said. But her voice was strained and unsteady, and it was hard not to go to her side.

“I’ve still got my phone,” she said. “I don’t know if it’s got much charge but…”

Suddenly, the phone’s flashlight shone in Andrew’s face and he narrowed his eyes against its glare. He could see Cally’s face now, and she looked exhausted, her mouth pinched, her eyes hollow. “Please,” he said, “let me—”

“No,” she interrupted. “Just go. Go back to the gate.”

“Sure. But listen, you must follow, OK?”

“All right,” she said. “Just go, for god’s sake.”

“OK. I’m going.” Slowly, Andrew turned his back on her, then he walked away, dragging his feet, and trailing his hand along the tunnel wall to guide his path.

 

Cally stood and watched Andrew walking away until his fading silhouette melted into the darkness beyond her flashlight’s glow. Suddenly, standing there alone in the dark tunnel, her wet jeans clinging coldly to her legs, she felt weak and stupid—vulnerable. And she still had to make her way out through the passages with a man she couldn’t trust. There was no other choice. She certainly couldn’t stay in this awful place, alone except for Crawford, who could wake up at any moment. She shuddered at the thought of it. No. She had to leave. She must stay strong and go through with it. And perhaps, once she made it back to the lit tunnels, she’d feel a little more confident. Then, if she was lucky, it would only be a few minutes before she was safely back on the crowded street.

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