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  A STEP INTO THE DARK

  Copyright © 2019 by Vince Vogel

  All right reserved.

  Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the author of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.

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  DAY ONE

  1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  8

  9

  10

  11

  12

  13

  14

  15

  16

  17

  DAY TWO

  18

  19

  20

  21

  22

  23

  24

  25

  26

  27

  28

  29

  30

  31

  32

  33

  34

  35

  DAY THREE

  36

  37

  38

  39

  40

  41

  42

  43

  44

  45

  46

  47

  48

  49

  50

  51

  52

  53

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  55

  56

  57

  58

  59

  60

  61

  62

  63

  64

  DAY FOUR

  65

  66

  67

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  69

  70

  71

  72

  73

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  93

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  95

  96

  97

  98

  99

  100

  DAY FIVE

  101

  102

  103

  104

  105

  106

  107

  108

  109

  110

  111

  112

  EPILOGUE

  113

  114

  115

  116

  117

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  DAY ONE

  1

  It was an exceptionally red sky that hung above them, reflecting off the surface of the lake and giving it the appearance of shimmering blood. The sun was low, half-sunk, and intense, resembling a semi-circle of fire burning insanely above the tops of the trees.

  “It’s incredible, isn’t it?” Jess remarked.

  They sat holding each other, her head nestled into the crook of his neck. They sat at the end of a wooden dock with their naked feet dangling in the lake below, the glorious sun threatened to eat up the trees and everything else in the world.

  “Perfect,” Josh replied before kissing her temple.

  Behind them, their six friends giggled and chatted away as they lounged around the three tents they’d set up on the edge of the trees. Two of them were trying to get a fire started and arguing good-heartedly about how this should be achieved. In the background, the low hum of a stereo punctuated their jovial noise, and birdsong twittered above their heads.

  “Shall we go somewhere more private?” Jess whispered in Josh’s ear.

  A lascivious smile bent the lips of the teenage boy. She turned to him and saw it, and he didn’t need to say another word. They both got up, still holding each other, and walked back along the wooden dock to the shore. Their friends were several meters ahead through the trees, standing around a stack of smoking logs and sticks, trying to will it into flames.

  “Where’re you two goin’?” one of the other boys asked as they slunk by.

  Josh didn’t acknowledge the question and Jess merely turned to him with a smile. The others then watched them with smirks on their faces as the couple dissolved into the trees.

  Because of the low sun, much of the forest floor was draped in shadow, the light gradually creeping out of the wood. Holding hands, the two teens made their way carefully through the rows of tall, silhouetted trees, stepping over the spindly roots which poked up out of the dirt like tripping feet.

  They came across a stream bordered by steep dirt banks. Josh crossed first and then, with delicacy, he held Jess’ hand while she made it to the other side. Stumbling as she did, he grabbed her so that she fell into him. They stayed like that for a moment, gazing into each other’s eyes, until both burst into giggles and they carried on into the woods.

  A small meadow existed a little further on. A colossal plane tree had fallen some years ago and its remains lay across the center of the grassland. Josh lifted Jess up onto it and then stood between her thighs. He leaned forward and the two began to kiss.

  At first it was gentle kissing on the mouth, some tongues. But as the kiss increased in fury and the novice teenagers began to feel more confident, their rapture extended into heavy petting and their hands began to explore each other. She felt him shiver, like he always did, when he began to slide his hand up her inner thigh and into her panties. Feel his nervousness radiating out of him. The tension building between them. She was on the cusp of giving herself over to him.

  But then something odd happened.

  A bright light shone in Josh’s face from the trees behind the log and the lovers were forced to part their lips. Jess turned to see a flashlight beam shining on them. Squinting to get a better look at the person behind it, the two teen lovers could only see an outline.

  “Don’t be a dick,” Josh said indignantly to what he thought was one of his friends playing an amusing game.

  He expected a reply from within the light, but it merely remained studied on the pair, an uncomfortable silence existing in the trees.

  “Turn the torch off,” Jess complained, holding her hand up over her eyes.

  “Who is that? Gaz?” Josh added.

  But still no answer came and it was then, squinting his eyes, that Josh saw something in the very center of the light. Something that initially filled him with confusion, but which eventually sank his heart and filled him with terror.

&nb
sp; “What the…”

  BANG!

  He was blasted in the face and fell backwards with such force that his hands were ripped from Jess’. She didn’t scream. She was caught in the frozen realms of shock. Covered in his warm blood and trembling as she watched with horrified eyes her boyfriend hit the grass, his face torn apart, his body convulse slightly, then go limp.

  She turned sharply to face the light. A gray smoke rose out of it.

  “Run!” came a hiss from within, though she thought it had perhaps come from deep inside herself.

  She threw herself forward off the trunk, stepped over her dead boyfriend, and began tearing into the woods, screaming the whole time, her shrieks ripping through the dead forest. She leapt across the stream, landing on the other side and crawling up the dirt bank. When she rose to her feet, she turned over her shoulder and saw the light gradually making its way after her through the trees.

  Head down, she frantically ran into the woods.

  “HELP!” she gasped as she came upon the others, who had now gotten the fire going. They were in the midst of fun, frolicking with one another around the flames. When they looked over to see their blood-spattered friend, they took on looks of surprise. Obviously, they’d not heard the gunshot or her screaming over the stereo.

  “HELP ME!” she howled when she was almost upon them.

  Another blast—this one definitely heard over the stereo—ricocheted through the trees and made everyone in the camp jump. Especially when they saw Jess fly forward onto her front, a blood spatter leaving a cloud of red where she’d formerly been. Like some cheap cartoon.

  Frozen like rabbits, the six friends watched helplessly as their companion lay prostrate on the ground with blood all over her back. Weakly lifting her head, she looked up at them, their terrified eyes all pointed on her bloodless face. She began clawing at the dirt ground with her hands, crawling forward towards them.

  “Help,” she muttered before another two shots smashed into her back and her pale face dropped for the last time.

  Their eyes all looked into the trees, where a flashlight beam made its way towards them. Utter panic gripped every one of those teenage hearts and they tore off into the woods, dispersing in separate directions.

  One of the girls headed for the lake. Dived in. Several bullets were sent through the surface, crashing into the water and hitting her in the torso. The circle of flashlight beam stayed on the rippling water until a mist of red rose up followed by a body.

  He opened up the revolver and reloaded. Snapped it shut and continued into trees. He went to the tents. One was zipped up. He could hear sobbing and murmuring inside.

  Two despairing females were huddled up with their arms wrapped around each other. When the zip of the tent came down, they closed their eyes. One thought of her mother. The other prayed, even though she’d been to church only once in her lifetime when she was a child. These were the thoughts that took up their minds in the seconds before another series of blasts burst their ears. One felt the force rip her friend from her arms. In a complete panic, she opened her tearstained eyes and stared into the light. It exploded in rage and she too was sent reeling back.

  Having hit both girls in the chest, the killer aimed the gun at their heads and sent bullets into both, their skulls shattering under the colossal force of the high caliber weapon. He stayed kneeling at the entrance and gazed at them for a moment. They weren’t so beautiful now, he thought.

  He stood and moved on.

  More thunder claps broke out in the trees as the killer spotted one of the boys hiding in one. Having stopped underneath to reload, the killer had heard cracking branches above his head. Looking up, he saw a foot hanging from the foliage.

  Several bullets blasted up into it. A cry. Then a drop. His limp body hung over a branch. The killer aimed up at the head. They could not be left with their faces. Their handsome, pretty faces. They had to be removed.

  Two more were left.

  One of the other males made it back to his car, located in a dirt carpark at the wood’s edge. He was frantically looking for his keys in his pockets when the killer emerged from a large heath of ferns behind him. Having seen the edge of the light in the periphery of his vision, the boy turned sharply from the car with a look of horror. A bullet struck him in the chest. Another in the abdomen. He fell back against the vehicle and then slid down it. The killer calmly walked over to him.

  The boy’s eyes were still open and he was still breathing when the gun was raised, aimed at his head, and then his face blew apart. His handsome, pretty-boy face.

  There was one left. The killer had watched them for some time before he’d begun. Knew there were eight. Now he needed to search out the one that was missing.

  It didn’t take long.

  He’d crawled into some bushes. Like a cowardly snake, the killer thought. His sobbing had given him away. The killer pulled the bracken to one side and revealed the teen curled up in the fetal position. He was shivering with his eyes closed. A large patch of urine covered the crotch of his jeans. It impressed the killer. Impressed upon him his own strength and greatness in comparison with these mere creatures.

  “Look at me,” the killer barked down at him.

  The boy’s trembling and breathing became more frantic. He looked like he was hyperventilating. The killer watched as every muscle in the teen’s athletic body cringed and tensed. He was expecting the bullet to come careering through his flesh any minute.

  He aimed the gun.

  “Open your eyes and look at me,” the killer insisted.

  The boy slowly did as asked. His face filled with terror the moment he saw the dark figure within the light.

  2

  Jack didn’t like the chaise longue. Didn’t like lying down while the doc sat in a chair above him. It made the detective feel vulnerable while at the same time feeling unavoidably like a patient.

  So instead, Jack sat opposite Dr. Benjamin Holby in an armchair. On the same level, so that their eyes met across the psychiatrist’s office. As to that, it was cream carpeted and cream wallpapered. Not quite the sterile whitewash of a psychiatric ward, but close. Indeed, if it wasn’t for the many leafy plants that overgrew out of large pots and the framed pictures of Dali paintings and such, Jack would find the room overbearingly barren.

  Holby sat in a black leather easy-chair with his legs crossed, pad of paper on his lap, pen in hand. He was a handsome late thirty-something dressed in an open-collared white shirt tucked into slim slate-gray trousers. He had a well-manicured dark brown beard and side-parted quiff.

  They sat by an open window. The breeze played with the curtains and the mid-evening moon shone vanilla between a set of wispy clouds.

  “I had another dream,” Jack mentioned.

  “Oh, yes. About your dead friend Jimmy?”

  “Yeah.”

  “What happened?”

  “It was the same as always. I wake up in bed. But I’m not really awake. I’m still sleeping. Jimmy is standing there. I sit up and he says something. His lips move and a muffled sound comes out. Like his voice is trapped in a jar or something. It’s weird. He makes a sound and even though I can’t make out what he’s saying, I still know what he means. What he wants.”

  “And what is that?”

  “He wants me to follow him. Like always.”

  “And did you follow him this time?”

  “Yeah. Like you said, I have to face whatever he wants me to see.”

  “Whatever you want yourself to see,” the shrink corrected in his calm, composed voice.

  “I guess. So I follow him and he takes me to see Lenny. And it’s like I already knew that was where we were going. I see Lenny and he has a gun. A revolver.”

  “The one that Jimmy shot himself with?”

  In the four months Jack had been visiting the psychiatrist, he’d opened up about everything. He knew he had to. Had to have one person in the world that he could tell the truth to.

  “Yeah. The one he
shot himself with,” Jack agreed.

  “So what happened next?”

  “I just stood there while they both laughed. Until Lenny pointed the gun at me and I woke up standing in my living room.”

  “It’s good that you followed him,” Holby commented. “You have to see out every part of what your subconscious wants you to see. It’s all wrapped around your feelings of guilt regarding both men’s deaths. You wish to give them the chance to exact revenge on you. But both men died as a consequence of their own actions. Jimmy committed suicide and Lenny was going to kill Jimmy and then probably you. You had little choice.”

  “I shot to kill,” Jack muttered.

  “You were angry. But it doesn’t make you a killer in the general sense. Only the circumstances made you a killer.”

  “What about the two men I know for sure I killed during the Falklands?”

  “Again, it was circumstantial. You were in the pay of the British Army. It was your job to defend sovereign territory. Those men would have killed you and probably boasted about it to their comrades later on. Your remorse is overwhelming proof of your humanity.”

  Jack turned his eyes to the moon outside and trembling fingers made their way into his pocket. Holby got up from his chair and went to the window, opening it wider. Jack produced a packet of Marlboros. The e-cigarette was gone and he was back to smoking the real thing, though he wasn’t smoking his old brand of Benson and Hedges due to the traumatic aftereffects of a case he’d worked six months ago.

  “How’s Jean and everything at home?” Holby asked as Jack lit the smoke.

  “She’s the best, Doc,” the latter replied as he blew smoke out the window where it joined the light breeze. “But I still feel myself drifting further away from her. I try my best to hold on—and by Christ, I depend heavily on her—but I still feel myself closing up when we’re together.”

  “Have you talked with her more about things? Like we discussed.”

  Jack took a big pull of the smoke and gazed into the moon. A cloud was moving along its face and Jack got the impression that the motion was the other way around. That the moon was moving through the cloud instead. He imagined himself moving along with it. Moving off into the universe and leaving the Earth behind.

  “No. I haven’t,” he mumbled.

  “I really think you should. Having someone close by to talk to is a good thing. It is often our support network of family and friends that keep us from falling all the way down.”