Darkfall: Shadows of the Deep, page 4
A little past the huts was an intersection with streets branching off into town in different directions, and beyond that was more open space as the buildings close to the harbour were set farther back. Max pointed to one such building, a red brick structure that was three stories tall, nestled in a curved terrace on the corner of one of the intersections. A small sign hung above the door, reading: ‘Common House.’
The wooden window frames looked partially rotted and ill-fitting in the structural openings, with clear gaps between the wood and brickwork. Some panes of glass had dirty netting behind them that looked older than Jack was. The front door was open, and a group of people, mostly fishermen by the look of them, were milling around outside, talking and laughing.
‘That our place?’ Jack asked.
‘It is,’ Max replied.
‘So the box of spawn is somewhere around here?’ Jack twisted his head to look around, but Max laid a quick hand on his shoulder to stop him.
‘The box is close, yes, but don’t draw attention to yourself by looking for it. I’ll show you once we’re up at the vantage point.’ Jack nodded his understanding. ‘Remember,’ Max went on, ‘always be alert and think things through. Never get distracted. If you can’t adopt that mindset, you’ll be nothing more than a Deathborn for whatever remains of your life.’
Max then pulled Jack towards the building.
The corridor inside was narrow, made even tighter because more people were standing inside, simply gathered around talking and not moving. The walls were covered with peeling, dark green wallpaper, which made the cramped space feel even more oppressive. There were wall-mounted electric lamps—some of which were not working—that cast some light about the space. A set of stairs led up from the passageway.
The two men pushed their way through the crowd and ascended the stairs, which creaked under their weight. They travelled up to the top storey, squeezing past a semi-constant stream of patrons coming the other way, and Max then led Jack to the end of another hallway. A door blocked the way ahead, but Max pulled out a small brass key and unlocked it. Inside was another set of stairs, rising up to the right, but the area was mostly dark, save for a sliver of daylight guiding the way from the top of the stairs. After going up, Jack and Max emerged in the attic space. Jack immediately saw the hole in the roof, which was close to the top of the stairs and roughly a foot in diameter. The floorboards beneath it were sodden and overgrown with mold.
Max lit some of the oil lamps dotted around the attic space, some of which were on small, circular tables, others hanging from the vertical timber roof struts.
It was a miserable, damp, and dank space. However, floorboards had been put down over the ceiling joists they stood on, and there was some basic seating along with two single, timber-framed beds with thin sheets.
‘This is where we’re staying?’ Jack asked as he curled his top lip.
‘You were expecting something a bit fancier?’ Max asked. ‘I didn’t realise you were used to luxury, Jack. I apologise.’
‘No need for sarcasm.’
‘Then stop complaining. I’ve already told you we’re working, so act like it.’
Max then beckoned Jack over to one of the dormer roof windows that jutted out from the sloping roof and gave them a view out over the harbour, the river, and the opposite side of the town. By angling his head down, Jack could make out the street just below, as well as the open intersection.
‘Where is the package?’ he asked.
Max directed Jack’s gaze slightly to the right, where a small alleyway opened up between some buildings. Set back a little way from the entrance of the alleyway was a pile of crates, boxes, and other junk, mostly covered with hessian sheets. After a moment of looking, Jack saw a package sticking out from under a sheet, wrapped in a familiar paper. While the location was tucked away to some extent, Jack hardly considered it well hidden. He then understood Max’s suspicion that the package was always being watched, ensuring it didn’t fall into the wrong hands. There were plenty of people in the crowd on the street that could easily see the location, and there were many public benches available around the intersection as well. Most of those seats were currently in use.
‘So now we watch and wait?’ Jack asked.
Max retrieved a spyglass from inside his jacket. ‘I watch and wait,’ he replied. ‘You go get some sleep. I’ll wake you when I need you.’
Jack turned to glance at the small, uncomfortable-looking beds. The sheets looked thread-bare and filthy. Still, his body ached for rest. He lay down, hearing the frame creak, and pulled the sheet over his body to try to ward off the light breeze that drifted in from the hole in the roof.
Not three minutes later, Jack was asleep, dreaming about his wife and son.
CHAPTER SIX
Jack was in his family home with Rose and Samuel. The house was small and basic, but full of warmth.
They were all sitting on a rug on the floor. The fireplace before them was lit, sending out waves of welcome heat that helped ward off the chill of the night outside. The pleasant scent of burning wood, a smell Jack had always loved, rolled out over them as well.
Things felt safe. The family was all together.
Rose was helping Samuel with his reading, and Jack was paying close attention at the same time, hoping to learn alongside his son. He stared at the pages of the old book. The writing looked like scribble to him, not clear at all, yet somehow Samuel was making sense of it all as he read the story aloud. It wasn’t a tale Jack was familiar with, but he listened as Samuel slowly and deliberately worked his way through each word.
‘The daddy… wolf… led… his family through the woods.’
‘Very good, Samuel,’ Rose encouraged. ‘Just take your time.’
‘There were… a lot of…’ he trailed off and looked to Rose for support.
‘Dangers,’ she said with a smile.
‘Dangers,’ Samuel repeated. ‘But the daddy wolf always said he would…’ Another look for help.
‘Protect,’ Rose said.
‘Protect them,’ Samuel finished.
Jack and Rose shared a look and Rose gave him a smile, one so full of happiness Jack’s heart melted. It was a perfect moment.
How did I manage to find a woman like you? he asked himself. As he gazed at her, Jack couldn’t help but appreciate her beauty: large brown eyes, so full of life; a breathtaking smile; smooth, unblemished skin. But more than that, Jack valued Rose’s spirit, strength, and kindness. She was the rock of the family, the emotional centre, and though she was softly spoken, she was also fierce in her own way. She laid a hand on Jack’s, and he smiled as he looked down. Then a small frown crossed his brow. The skin on the back of her hand looked odd, somehow—off-colour and too thin, and he could see the veins beneath.
‘Keep going, Samuel,’ Rose urged. ‘You’re getting to the good part.’
Jack turned his attention back to his son, who was sitting with his legs crossed, the book in his lap. However, the boy wasn’t concentrating on the book anymore—instead, he was looking right at Jack.
‘After always promising to keep them safe,’ Samuel began, speaking much more confidently now, ‘the wolf-family followed the daddy everywhere. They did everything he told them to. But… the daddy wolf was a liar.’
Samuel was smiling now, though something about the expression unnerved Jack.
‘Because the mummy wolf got sick,’ Samuel went on. ‘And the daddy wolf did nothing to help.’
Jack turned to Rose again, confused by what was happening, but he drew in a sharp breath as he saw his wife. Her once full and beautiful hair was now thin and patchy, showing the scalp beneath. The formerly healthy, plump skin on her face was now ashen, pulled tight over Rose’s cheeks, making her look gaunt. She was painfully thin as well, with her clothes practically hanging off her.
‘He tells it so well, doesn’t he, Jack?’ Rose said in a weak and wheezy voice. She then coughed and a shower of bloody spittle landed on Jack’s face. ‘He’s not finished yet, though,’ she wheezed.
‘So,’ Samuel went on, ‘the daddy wolf just watched as the mummy wolf died in pain.’ The boy continued the strong eye contact while wearing a fake smile. ‘He didn’t even comfort the little cub. Instead, after the mummy died, the daddy just took the cub away from the only home it knew. The cub was sad, but thought its daddy would protect it.’
Jack once again looked over to Rose to tell her he didn’t like the story. However, Rose was now slumped on the floor, face down, and was unmoving. ‘Rose!’ Jack yelled.
‘Keep concentrating, Daddy!’ Samuel ordered in a loud, chirpy voice.
What’s going on? Jack was panicking. The confusion he felt was overwhelming. He wanted to lunge over to his wife to help her, yet his body just wouldn’t respond.
‘As they travelled, the cub felt scared and alone, even though its daddy was there the whole time. But what if the daddy couldn’t protect the cub? What if there were scary things out in the trees that would come and take the cub away? Would the daddy wolf give his life to save the little cub?’
A deep, guttural roar suddenly rumbled from outside the house. Jack’s eyes darted to the window, but he could see nothing beyond the glass other than darkness. In fact, he suddenly realised that the darkness was absolute, and he couldn’t even make out the nearby trees that should have stood there, nor could he see the night sky. It was like the glass of the windows was painted black and completely hid whatever was outside.
‘Just as the little cub feared,’ Samuel went on, the book in his lap now discarded, ‘there was a monster out there. The daddy wolf said he didn’t believe in monsters and that there was nothing to be scared of. But that didn’t help the cub when the monster came. The poor cub was ripped apart. It died yelping and howling in pain. And its daddy? Well, the daddy wolf didn’t move. It just stood and watched the little cub die.’
Tears were streaming down Jack’s face. Somehow, he knew what was coming. He knew what was making the terrible roaring sound from outside. A shard of a memory that seemed to be from another life punctured his mind.
‘No,’ Jack said.
Then, he heard something move past the window. Something big.
Something he remembered.
Samuel set down the book. ‘It looks like the monster is here for me, Daddy,’ he said. ‘But you aren’t going to help, are you?’
Jack tried desperately to move, yet he was frozen to the spot. Then the wall behind Samuel was ripped away by the creature in a shower of torn wood and flying splinters.
‘NO!’ Jack screamed as the creature quickly dove in through the newly created opening. It landed on Samuel and grabbed the boy in its monstrous hands. The smile never left the boy’s face as his body was utterly destroyed.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Jack felt himself being shaken awake. The horrible, vivid dream still clung to him as he looked up and blinked, then spotted Max standing above him.
‘Assandra is approaching. Get up and get changed, quickly.’
Just a dream, Jack told himself as he swung his legs from the bed and stood up. However, the vision of the creature attacking and killing his son wouldn’t leave him. Neither did the image of his sickly wife.
His bladder was full, but there was no time to take care of that, so Jack quickly stripped down to his underwear and changed into the clothes Max had bought him, which fit surprisingly well. He dropped the knife into his trouser pocket, then made his way over to Max at the window and peered outside. Max was using the spyglass, but after a short while Jack saw Assandra come into view as she made her way through the crowd.
She had changed since they’d last seen her, now wearing a fitted light-brown cotton dress. Her red hair was pulled back and braided with small flowers woven into some of the strands, and she carried a fabric bag with a long strap over her shoulder.
‘Glad to see she came,’ Max said.
‘You doubted her?’ Jack asked.
‘In truth, I wasn’t sure. She had the perfect opportunity to run and not look back. Though doing so would have made her a marked woman.’
‘Isn’t she already a marked woman?’
‘True. But at least she’s helping us now. Keep an eye on the people around her, watch for their reactions. If I’m right, someone in the crowd will be watching her with great interest.’
Jack studied Assandra as she continued towards the drop-off location. He had to hand it to her, she looked like she was just going about her day as normal, showing no signs that something was different. Jack had little doubt that if someone else were watching, they would have no reason to be suspicious. A couple of men turned and cast their eyes at Assandra as she passed, though Jack could tell those glances were drawn purely from lust. She really is quite attractive.
She reached the pile of crates in the alleyway, gave a brief look around, then bent down to retrieve the package.
‘Pay attention,’ Max said, still staring through his spyglass. ‘I think I have something, but stay vigilant. Check everyone.’
Jack scanned the crowd as best he could while Assandra carefully loaded the crate into her bag. The package, wrapped in brown paper, was large and cumbersome, and the fabric of the bag bulged out when the package slid farther inside. As Assandra stood, the bag swung awkwardly at her side, the edges of its contents jutting out against the material.
Jack noticed a few people watching her, so it was difficult to hone in on anyone in particular. Most of them, from what he could tell, were just curious as to what the beautiful lady was doing.
It was then Jack’s eyes fell on one of the benches close to the harbour’s edge. It was next to one of the open-fronted timber huts, and only one person was on the seat: a man, who looked to be somewhere in his thirties, dressed in grubby clothing. He had thick sideburns and unkempt stubble over a strong jaw. Jack had checked that bench when Assandra walked past it, but the man sitting on it had appeared to be sleeping, with a cap pulled over his eyes. Now he was wide awake, cap in hand, watching Assandra intently.
‘The fella on the bench,’ Jack said. ‘There’s something about the way he’s looking at her.’
Jack saw a smile creep over Max’s lips. ‘Very good. That’s who I have my eye on as well. I saw him there yesterday at a similar time. He got replaced after a few hours, and someone else then sat watch. Let’s see what happens when Assandra leaves.’
The strange man’s eyes never left the wytch while Assandra made her way back down the harbour and eventually disappeared into the crowd once more. The stranger then stood up. Suddenly, Jack felt the spyglass thrust into his hands. ‘Keep an eye on him,’ Max told him. ‘I’m going to follow.’
Max ran, thundering down the steps from the attic, and Jack heard his rapid steps thud across the storey below, followed by him shouting: ‘Out of the bloody way,’ to someone. Less than thirty seconds later, the Shadowhand appeared on the street below, just as the man from the bench was making his way up the harbour.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Max wove his way through the rabble congregated on the harbour. He’d exited the doss house just in time to see the man from the bench move north up the road, then get lost in the sea of people.
However, it didn’t take Max long to catch up; the man didn’t seem to be in any particular rush, simply ambling along with his hands in his pockets.
The stranger had a stocky build and walked with the swagger of someone who cared little for others, with his elbows pushed out to his sides and often clipping passersby, who would cast him a dirty look—not that he noticed. Max kept a good distance, though was always close enough to keep the man well within view. At one point, the target stopped at a small seafood stand set up close to the edge of the harbour. He bought himself some cockles, which were given to him on an open sheet of paper. The stranger then set off again, popping a few of the molluscs into his mouth as he walked.
After moving past the bridge, the target continued up and eventually stopped at one of the buildings that overlooked the river. A large opening dominated the ground storey of the building, housing a huge wooden door that had been slid open to reveal the workings inside. The building appeared to be a warehouse, operated by a fishing company. Max checked the sign above the door, and it was a name vaguely he recognised: Skivington, Chambers & Co. He quickly realised why. That name was also on one of the wooden structures on the harbour, close to where Assandra had made the pickup. It had obviously been an additional unit to collect haul from smaller vessels so the larger ones could be unloaded close to the warehouse itself.
The stocky man made his way inside the belly of the building, passing other busy-looking workers. A gentle flow of foot traffic was making its way from the open doors to one of the large ships docked in the harbour, collecting crates of fish and mussels and hauling them back inside. Max soon lost track of his target. No doubt the man was off to report that the package had been collected.
Max was tempted to follow him inside, but knew he wouldn’t get far before getting stopped. At that moment, Max didn’t want to draw any undue attention to himself. His only goal was to gather information, and discovering that Skivington, Chambers & Co. were the ones delivering the spawn to Cora felt like a big piece of the puzzle. Assandra’s help had proven valuable—Max’s plan had paid dividends.
Max’s gaze settled on one of the workers inside. The man, of average build and height, with brown hair and a short, scruffy beard, was cradling one of his forearms in discomfort. Max could see a dark stain on the sleeve of the man’s thin cotton shirt. It was difficult to make out the stain clearly at that distance, but he suspected it was blood. Max squinted and saw a yellow tinge to the stain as well. Seems infected.
