Black Sun by Clifford Beck - HTML preview

Chapter 9

The day that marked the beginning of what would become a search for solitude had been unusually warm, even for November. But the night was growing late, and with it came the rapid fall in temperature. Usually, movement was the key to staying warm. But with a lack of experience in such situations, both Ryan and Abigail began to feel the numbing chill of the night’s cool air. As the late November wind rang out its icy chimes, bringing a shiver to their largely unprotected skin. But, as they approached Fiddler’s Lane, Abigail stopped, having been overwhelmed by the November cold. “I’m so damn cold,” she began. “Is there someplace we can stop? Maybe get some blankets or something?” Ryan felt it too, but in surveying the area, he could see no sign that anyone had ever lived along the road. However, having traveled the area several times before, he was certain there were several cul-de-sacs nearby, and he had a good idea as to where they were. The question quickly became, would there be anyone living there, and would they be receptive to visitors, chilled by the night and in need of warmth and sustenance?

Being a parent, Ryan felt his protective instincts emerge, and releasing Abigail’s hand, put an arm around her shoulder. Desperate for warmth, she turned and clung to him, with her lips pressing into his neck. Immediately, Ryan felt the warm surge of arousal coursing through his icy flesh as Abigail stepped into him, pressing her hips against his. Once again, he was reminded of how long it had been since he felt the body of a woman intertwined with his, but as his arousal began to peak, so too did his discomfort. His body was ready, but his heart was still entangled with the confusion of losing his family to the chaos of a misdirected marriage, and refocusing on their priorities, brought his hands to Abigail’s arms and gently moved her away. “We should get going,” he said.

Abigail’s face quickly expressed the embarrassment of being caught up in the moment, and dropping her eyes to the ground, nodded in agreement. However, instead of allowing her to obsess on what they had both been thinking, Ryan, again, took her hand as they continued their search for the warmth they needed.

The cold had quickened their pace, and it seemed like only a few minutes before reaching a paved road, leading off to the left. Stopping at the intersection, Ryan looked down the road as his memory brought back its familiarity. “Yeah, this is it,” he said.

Starting down the road, Abigail’s grip tightened with anxiety, and slowing down, pulled Ryan back.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Are you sure about this?” she asked. “I mean; how well do you know this area?”

With a gentle voice, he reassured her that he had occasionally driven through the area while on his way back from work and that he was quite familiar with its roads and cross-streets. Yet, it was the trickster of the night that played with his perceptions, casting a dim shadow across the distance, where streetlights would have otherwise glowed.

Having regained her confidence, Ryan led her down the lightless pavement and into the asphalt loop, where a few houses stood. As with everywhere else, their windows were dark and seemingly devoid of life, offering a sight that left their skin rippling with goose flesh, and their minds clouded with anticipation. Now, Ryan and Abigail stood in front of the first house, tucked away behind a well-manicured lawn. The empty garage had been left open, and with no car in sight, Ryan was quickly led to believe that the house was without its occupants. Abigail, however, was left suspicious, mostly out of fear and stopping once more, voiced her anxiety. “Are you sure no one’s here?” she asked. Ryan, pointing out the vacant garage, expressed his confidence that the house was, indeed, unoccupied.

“They probably left before all this happened.” In spite of her fears, Abigail took him at his word, and as they made their way closer, she studied the windows, looking for any movement that might contradict Ryan’s assumption. But as she took her eyes away from the houses’ facade, her mind created the reality her fear had dictated.

“Ryan!” she screamed. “There’s someone here!” Anxiety quickly turned to hysteria as she burst into a panic and ran back to the street. In her mind, a pale curtain seemed to drift slightly aside, but without a hand to guide it. Ryan ran back as well, and standing next to her, stared at the houses’ dark emptiness. His casual assumption had been replaced by fear, and his voice took on an urgent tone.

“What was it?” he asked. “What did you see?” Abigail pointed up to the window on the second floor, far to the left.

“There,” she began. “There’s someone in the window.” Ryan carefully studied the window but saw nothing – not a shape, nor movement of any kind. It was as though the house had been abandoned long ago, perhaps upon the collapse of some great civilization. But now, standing in the darkness, blanketed by the cold night, Ryan came to see the obvious, that Abigail’s perceptions were far from real, that her mind was simply playing tricks on her.

“Abby,” he said.

He tried to maintain a calm, gentle voice while pointed out what he believed to be the product of a terrified imagination. “I think you’re seeing things. I’m not saying you’re crazy or anything, but I think you’re really scared, and that’s making you see things that aren’t there.”

Abigail’s voice became choked with panic as she described her experience.

“I swear, I saw something,” she said. “I saw that curtain move, right up there!”

Ryan studied it a bit more, again, looking for the slightest movement. Yet, there was none.

“I really don’t think there’s anything there,” he said. By now, her face had paled as her forehead broke out into an anxious sweat. Ryan, taking notice of her appearance, saw her legs begin to wobble and as she began to collapse, he threw his arms around her waist. Her weight fell straight to the ground as her consciousness drifted away, and as he helped her to the ground, he glanced around, being certain they were alone. But, caution turned to a slight paranoia and picking her up, he carried her to a place between the house and the garage, protected by their dark shadows.

Laying her on the ground, Ryan put a hand to her forehead and felt the buildup of sweat trailing down her face, and with the flat of his fingers, struck her gently on the cheek. “Abby, c’mon,” he said.

With no response, he took her by the shoulders and shook her vigorously. With greater stimulation, Abigail’s eyes flashed open as she took a sudden gasp, her gaze fixed on Ryan’s anxious expression.

“What happened?” she asked.

She placed her hands on the ground, and pushing herself up against the house, glanced around as though hiding from some creeping menace. Ryan shook her again, trying to force her senses back to alertness.

“Abby… Abby,” he began. “C’mon, wake up.” Taking another deep breath, Abigail shook her senses back to life and, rising to her feet, felt the lightheadedness of oncoming unconsciousness.

“Slow down,” Ryan continued.

Grabbing her arm, he carefully helped her to her feet and stood close-by as her balance returned. Soon, her mind returned to a relatively calm state. But at the same time, she had become deeply embarrassed by what she perceived as a weakness. “Sorry,” she said. “Oh fuck, that’s embarrassing.” Ryan tried to be reassuring and attempted to brush off the incident. “Hey, if it had been me, I would have shit myself.” His kind, if not comical words, bring a grin to Abigail’s face as she replied with a similar response.

“Trust me, I almost did.”

They waited a few more minutes, hiding in the shadows, as Ryan continued to watch her as she recovered from her sudden lapse. When he was certain Abby would recover, he suggested they walk around to the back of the house, to a place that might offer less obvious access. In spite of being sure they were alone, Ryan began to assume that it was safer to maintain a constant vigilance for anyone who might be watching. As they continued their journey, that assumption would prove to be a useful survival mechanism.