The Darkness 1

The sun beat down upon the broken castle. The portion of turret that had crumbled and torn down to the lake had taken the bank with it. Sediment had settled and left the water a deep inviting marine. Waves lapped nonchalantly at the flagstone, half-floor of the exposed living room. A grand piano stood upon vase shaped legs slowly swelling with the rising tide. The room had once sheltered three freestanding chairs, now it failed to shelter one but that one chair stood smug. Proud it had survived the storm and the undead rampage. The room above was missing most of its ceiling. The wall that was left reflected the sun in an almost mirror-like fashion into the eyes of the approaching upholders of law and order. They were thoughtfully making their way past the treacherous and feral territory of the, mountain-guised, fence of the village, which was the purpose of the castle in the first place. It had been built just outside of the forest and high above the sea as an outpost, watching for enemies from the neighbouring settlements and wandering vagabonds. The lake had been dug so the inhabitants would be able to grow their own food and not have to negotiate the path to the village, the beacon atop the disintegrated tower was the only means of communication they'd had until phone lines had been drawn through the mud to the building. Those lines had been useless since the beginning of the storm.

The black and white, horse-drawn carriage teetered precariously on the brink of a narrow lip of flat circling a peak in the hilly border. The authority taps lightly upon the roof of the carriage, ‘the horses are tired, the way is easier walked and not too far away why take the risk?’

He steps into the warmth of the afternoon sun. The storm had removed every trace of cloud cover so the heat made him sweat instantly, the wind was practically non-existent and the air was only humidity still and stale. His deputy, work experience from the local boy’s school, dropped to the floor and had to grip the door of the transport as he slipped on the stony path. He was barely into puberty, a small boy but well behaved and clean though, the sheriff assumed, unused to a sudden spurt of tissue growth was terribly clumsy. As such was forbidden a weapon, just in case. He was unlikely to need it, most of the town’s people were docile enough, the rules of work were largely implemented by individual sense of duty and capacity and tardiness was insignificant to most of the trade. Because most of it remained in the village anyway if people wanted to eat, they worked it was simple, yet effective. However, the doctor had not returned and his expertise were quickly missed by the people and his absence reported. The passengers were investigating.

The boy smiled a gangly grin that the officer replied to with a nod and they began the walk. They’d reached the apex so their stroll was leisurely. The animals would be asleep, if not they would be sheltering from the sun or fixing their shelters from the rain damage. The boy fiddled with his short brown hair, itching at parasites or the steadily settling moisture. The older man put a finger to his experimental gun powder pistol, feeling the power rush through his frame making him sweat even more.
“Sir. Does that look odd to you?”
“What?” the Sheriff snapped his hand to his forehead, away from the new-fangled gun.
“The drawbridge is broken.”
“Why so it is. Don’t worry, there’s a boat. Shouldn’t’ve liked to’ve tried that bridge anyway sonny. It’s very old and over the water the wood gets very rotted, without a proper seeing to.”
The pubescent lad nodded at his mentor’s sage advice and tripped over his own foot.

The sheriff tutted and shaded his eyes to see the castle, he thought something else was a little off but the sun made it difficult to make out anything specific. He coughed officially and thrust his hands into his trouser pockets and pulled his hips forward until his back cracked. The apprentice flinched at the sound.

The two walked on in silence as the driver soothed and fed his horses, oblivious to what they'd find when they got to the castle, and to the fact his fare would not be paid. All he cared about then was how long they’d be, if they were still on the cliff-side at twilight the cold air would thicken the scent of the horses and the wolves that had been heard even over the violent rain and thunder would be able to target them with the precision of the best archers on a fine windless day. Of course he had his hay fork but a single man against the will of a focused pack was of little challenge. Maybe if he had the sheriff’s new gun...he shook his head and wiped some sweat from the black horse’s shoulder and scolded himself. He knew it was wrong for a man to have that much power. The council had made a huge song and dance about it and he’d been carried away with the excitement but his wife had shown him how unjust it was for any one person to hold that much sway over death. He of course agreed with her in principle and knew, knew she was right but his heart still wanted to be able to just touch it. Maybe even let it off into a tree trunk, only to see what damage it actually did, curiosity more than anything he told himself but the shudder that wound around his spine wasn’t curiosity. It was almost the same thrill he experienced when his wife gave him that ‘the kids are asleep’ kind of look.
“The lake’s risen.” The sheriff said dryly. He was getting a very odd feeling in his gut that he didn’t much appreciate. The silhouette didn’t quite look how he remembered it, it had been a long time since he was last there of course. He’d brought Tabatha up for their first date. His father had told him about how beautiful the place was by day but that if he ever was to go he was to make sure they knew and never stay past sun down because the animals ruled at night.

He squinted under his hand shade and wished he had a permanent sun shade that followed him, a little like a woman’s parasol but for men.
“How can you tell?”
“Tell what?”
“That the lake’s risen. You haven’t measured it or anything.”
“Ah young Tom, the duty of those in charge is to see the obvious without bias. We observe how things work and how any subtle change ripples through the people so we can try to anticipate what will go wrong before it does. Look at the bank, I don’t suppose you see many lakes but think about the ponds and how they look most of the time, what’s strange here?”
He stood back and watched the teenager, just showing the first pimples of what may be an extreme case of acne, or just a quick scare of spots that’d disappear as soon as they came. The sheriff’s face gave away his own blemish troubled past, his cheeks a scarred mess, looking like bad porridge. His wife said it distinguished him and that she liked the fact it stopped his beard from growing because she couldn’t stand the feel of stubble or the sight of facial hair but he remained jealous of the soft cheeks of a freshly shaven man and the conversation seemed so much richer with a barber who was shaving the face as opposed to the head. He stroked his cheeks and hid bottom lip pushed up thoughtfully. He shrugged to himself, it wasn’t so bad, he’d been blessed in other ways over his ‘difficult’ time.

His attention returned to the boy who had knelt to inspect the water more closely. He decided to put him out of his misery, Tom was a smart boy but not in the right direction.
“Look at the grass.”
Tom’s head twisted quickly to the sheriff as if he’d gone mad then looked back over his shoulder, the frown so deep the sheriff could see it in his profile.
“Not there. Here. Look.” and he knelt himself and brushed a hand over the grass, dry on the bank, and carried on to the grass poking above the surface of the lake. Waterlogged and sparse as the water had swelled them until they folded under their own obesity.
The apprentice stared blankly at him. The officer sighed.
“The water has encroached onto the bank.” He put his hand into the water and felt along the grassy bed until he was in danger of falling in, “and quite a long way too. It rained a lot but I don’t think it rained that much.” The pit in his stomach coiled a little and he realised the boat was in the middle of the lake. To walk around would take an extra three hours. To row was about one, they didn't have that much time, the dark would start stalking them and their way home.
The youngster finally understood and clapped in excitement, lurching to his feet and grinning his lopsided smile, “fascinating. It’s so simple!”
“Can you swim boy?”
The smile was gone in a second, “no sir. Parents never saw the use in me learning.”
The law man sighed and began removing his clothes. “Try paddling in the shallows, it might come in handy.” He felt a sinking in his chest when he placed his holster on the ground but shook it away and pushed his thick trousers over his thick calves and walked to the edge of what had been the edge of the bank the day before. He lowered himself cautiously into the water, conscious he couldn’t see how deep the water was but desperately wanting to show the kid his ability to dive.