Thirteen Days By Sunset Beach (33 page)

He could hear it more clearly now—more than he liked. It put him in mind of an enormous bag full of some soft material, slithering across rock. As he twisted to face it the light flailed at the walls, so that he wasn't immediately sure what he was seeing in the passage. Even if there was no movement other than the trembling of the light, this didn't reassure him much, since the sound had unquestionably originated somewhere along the passage. Just as dismaying in another way, Doug was calling out to him. "What did you say, dad?"

"I'm coming now," Ray cried, so afraid for his children that it almost overcame his more immediate dread. Suppose Doug stumbled down to find him, what might happen then? He limped at all his speed towards the bend, struggling to prepare himself for whatever might be there, but he wasn't even close to it when he began to grasp how much he'd overlooked or misperceived. The largest of the chambers off the passage wasn't just an alcove after all. He'd perceived it as shallow only because it was full of a swollen bulk, which wasn't pale just from the flashlight beam. The mass was at least as wide as the entrance to the cave it filled—a dozen limping strides wide. Ray had no time to examine it more closely or even to wonder what species of underground growth it might be. Telling himself that it was restless only with the movement of the flashlight beam occupied his mind just now—indeed, strove to be his solitary thought. He very much wished that he hadn't explored quite so far. He wasn't even at the midpoint of the cave that he was growing more than anxious to pass when the pale bulk thrust its face and arms towards him.

The face was a man's, or had been. Now it resembled a bloated mask, almost engulfed in a mass of flesh so pallid it might never have been touched by the sun. The nose resembled a colourless tuber, and the thick broad lips were just as white. It was impossible to judge what expression the face bore, not just since the lips appeared to have swelled together in an immobile straight line but because the eyes had atrophied, puckering so deep that they'd sucked the lids inwards. All the same, as Ray shrank back from the sight, having staggered to a paralysed halt in the corridor, he had a sense that the face was aged by more than centuries—by some awful knowledge around which it had closed to keep it from the world. Then the eyes opened in the depths of the whitish sockets, and the arms stretched out to cut off his escape.

All he could see in the tiny glinting eyes was hunger so voracious it was mindless. At once Ray knew what had befallen Ditton, who must have strayed into the lair, from which his drained remains had been flung into the water. For a moment Ray imagined he would be able to dodge Skiá's clutches, since even though the arms were at least twice the breadth of his own, they were dwarfed by the mass from which they protruded several yards apart. But they were on either side of him, and before he could move, the gigantic pallid body squeezed forward to extend the arms across the passage, trapping him.

As the face surged towards him, a tongue like a great white slug poked the lips apart, revealing a solitary fang. The moist white eyes were so enlivened by thirst that they were creeping forwards in the sockets. Loathing indistinguishable from panic overwhelmed Ray's thoughts, so that he was scarcely aware of backing away until he found himself in an alcove nowhere near as deep as a cell. The vast body was still emerging from the cave, not so much like flesh as a vast sack of fluid. The face crept into the alcove, together with a distended portion of the bulk in which it was embedded, and Ray shrank against the rock, which felt implacably chill. The greedy eyes bulged forth from their sockets while the fanged mouth gaped as wide as a fist, and Ray heard Doug and Natalie calling out to him.

Their voices were muffled by the fleshy obstacle that filled the entrance to the alcove. Ray was appalled by not knowing how close they were—not knowing whether Doug was on his way to find him. His terror clarified his thoughts, and he realised he might have a weapon. He thrust his phone at the advancing face, shining the flashlight beam into the eyes. He didn't know he meant to speak until words spilled out of his mouth. "Let us live and we'll let you live."

The eyes shrivelled into the head, and the towering body dragged itself back into the passage. Ray thought it had given him the chance to flee until he saw it was only making space for an arm to reach into the alcove. The writhing fingers groped for him and closed around his wrist. They felt as they looked: like cold dead grubs. As Ray jerked free with a convulsion that involved his entire body he almost dropped the phone that the enormous hand was searching for. The eyes were venturing forth again like snails emerging from their shells, and this time they didn't wither so much when he aimed the beam at them. As Ray bruised his shoulders against the unyielding wall he remembered he had Natalie's phone too, but how much difference could that make? He had a last despairing idea, and fumbled for her mobile as the mass that had crammed itself into the alcove slithered forward to let the hand at him. The fingers hadn't quite found him when he heard Doug calling him again. His son sounded closer—distressingly close.

"Stay there," Ray yelled, struggling to wield the second phone with his left hand. He couldn't simply use his own mobile when he would need to switch off the light first, leaving him with Skiá in the dark. As he managed to retreat a very few more inches, if even that far, the arm emerged further from the wad of flesh, and the fingers squirmed in search of him. He was so desperate to avoid them that he nearly touched the wrong icon on the mobile—the one that would activate the phone—which, in the midst of his breathless panic, made him yearn to be speaking to Sandra. Then he succeeded in activating the camera, and held it towards the face that was bulging at him in such haste that he nearly lost hold of the phone, he set off the flash.

The eyes wizened and the face recoiled, sinking into the mass of flesh. The colossal body flinched into the passage, not by any means as far as Ray would have liked. All the same, this looked as if it was his only chance. As he lurched out of the alcove he saw the eyes beginning to stir in their sockets. The hands had jerked up to cover them, but the width of the body meant they weren't even nearly within reach. Ray thrust the camera at them again and used the flash. As the eyes dwindled, the arm closer to the steps swung towards him, and the soft cold almost fluid fingers brushed his cheek. But the body had withdrawn further, and there was space for Ray to sidle past, scraping his shoulders on the wall. He dashed around the bend and saw Doug almost at the bottom of the steps. "I said I was coming," Ray gasped. "I'm here. Go up."

"What was all the noise? What did you photograph?"

"I'll show you both when we're out of here. Don't leave your sister like that. I told you, go up."

He switched off the camera and shoved it in his pocket as Doug started upwards. Ray was mutely urging his son to climb faster in the hope of keeping pace with him when Doug swung around with one hand on the wall. "What did I just hear?"

"Nothing," Ray protested, but perhaps the truth was in his eyes. "Just water, like you said."

Doug hesitated before resuming his climb, and Ray felt as if this let the darkness or its contents grow more solid behind them. In one sense he was glad if their footfalls were blotting out any further sounds that might tempt Doug to investigate, but he kept having to glance back to reassure himself that they weren't being followed. Nothing was visible except the dark, and the only noise he could hear was the lapping of ripples in the cave, even if it put him in mind of a huge puffy tongue licking bloated lips.

As the flashlight beams found Natalie she began gingerly to climb. Despite the relative silence behind him, Ray had to resist exhorting her to put on speed, though it wasn't her fault that he was slowing down. Each step upwards seemed to rob him of more energy, until he felt as if he were being dragged back by the darkness—by its insubstantial weight that was gathering on him. He could have thought he was being drained of strength by the hunger of the dark, which would never let him reach the light again.

At last Natalie and Doug emerged into the subterranean corridor full of cells, and Ray toiled after them. Making their variously hampered way along it took rather more time than he cared for, despite the silence at his back. There was still the upper flight of steps to conquer, and before he reached the top Ray's entire body was shaking with his pulse, which seemed to be stealing his breath. He had to lean against the wall in the top corridor for some minutes while he regained a modicum of strength, and he felt barely capable of helping Doug support Natalie down the steps from the monastery. Just the same, as the blackened trees rose up in front of them like a reminder of the buried darkness, Ray grew more than eager to be away from the place and what it harboured. "I'll drive," he said.

"May I have my phone now?" Natalie said, having sunk with a wince onto the back seat of the jeep.

"You were going to show us what you found," Doug reminded his father, taking the seat beside him.

"It's on there," Ray said and handed Natalie her mobile. "Look for yourselves."

She opened the album and examined the most recent image while Ray started the car. Having looked at the previous photograph, she passed Doug the phone. "There's nothing," she said.

She was gazing at Ray in the mirror, searching for his reaction. As Doug peered at the mobile Ray glanced at the screen. The most recent photographs showed a blurred image of the cave off the lowest passage—no more than a dark vague emptiness. "You were right," he said as he sent the jeep along the track towards the unblackened trees. "There was nothing at all."

"You may go first, William," Julian said. The boy stepped forward with enough drama for a school play and handed Evadne the bouquet tied up with a ribbon. "Thank you for having us."

"He picked those for you himself."

"He wanted to give you his own present," Natalie said. "And Jonquil donated the ribbon."

"I haven't worn any for years," Jonquil wanted everyone to know. 'It was hiding in my case from a long time ago."

"Well, you are kind," Evadne told her and William. "I shall put them somewhere."

Ray had a passing notion that she meant or ought to mean the graveyard. Might she place them on the graves of visitors who had never left the island? Just now all that mattered was that Sandra and the teenagers were about to leave if. When Evadne laid the flowers on the counter in her office Julian cleared his throat as a preamble to planting a fifty-euro note beside them. "For your hospitality. From the family," he said.

Ray wondered if this sounded like ensuring she didn't think he personally valued her that much. "From all of us," Doug said.

"You are kind again." It wasn't clear exactly who she was addressing, nor when she said "You will come back."

"You've got to be asking that?" Pris said. "We've had an eventful stay."

"I've liked my time here," Sandra said.

"If we made you welcome, tell your friends."

This seemed to silence most of her listeners, leaving Tim to promise "I'll tell mine."

As Jonquil nodded, darkening her sunglasses with the shadow of her hat brim, Evadne said "And come back for your memories."

"You've all given me a few I wouldn't mind revisiting," Sandra said.

Ray was troubled by a sense that she'd misunderstood Evadne somehow. As he thought of asking what Evadne meant, Julian said "I believe our transport is here."

A man and woman at least as old as Ray were the only passengers so far. While the driver piled luggage in the belly of the bus Sam ushered the newcomers on board. Did she seem oddly relieved by the sight of them or to be sending them home? Ray took Sandra's hand to help her up the steps onto the coach, only to feel as though she was lending him some of her vigour. When she squeezed his hand he wished she would put whatever thoughts she was having into words, but he suspected that mightn't be advisable while the family could hear.

William waved goodbye if not a mime of hoping to return. As the coach left the Sunny View behind, Ray glanced at the streetlamp where he'd so often noticed the spider. He couldn't see it or its web, and he wondered if they were among the aspects of Vasilema that were seldom visible by day. Would they have shown up in a photograph? Surely they ought to, since they'd cast a shadow—and then he remembered that the figures under the lamp had cast one, which didn't reassure him at all.

Soon the bus arrived at Sunset Beach. As it collected passengers Ray recognised accommodations where people had failed to show up for a tour they'd booked. Like Sandra and the teenagers, and despite the overcast sky, most of the young folk wore sunglasses and outsize hats. Quite a few were visibly reluctant to leave the shade of trees or awnings, and some left it as late as possible to sprint to the coach as though fleeing a storm. While Ray didn't look too hard for bites, he noticed several. "That's the last," Sam eventually told the driver and picked up her microphone. "Have we all had a good stay? Looking forward to next years?"

The chorus of agreement was mostly a mumble. "I'll tell you when we're coming to the ferry," she announced. "Looks as if some of us would like a snooze."

Ray saw she didn't mean just Doug and Julian, though both of them were dozing in their seatbelts. As Sam laid down the microphone Sandra leaned across the aisle to murmur to Natalie and Pris. "I'm sorry I was a pain last night. I've changed my mind."

Natalie glanced around to see that Tim and Jonquil had set about distracting William from the conversation. "So long as you're happy in yourself."

"I should have believed the photographs you brought back." Sandra looked ashamed and then more so. "How's your ankle now?" she said.

"I told you, better than it was. Honestly, don't worry, and certainly don't blame yourself."

"I do for making Doug and Julian have to go on patrol again, though."

"They were just being men," Pris said. "Nat and I offered to keep watch but they were having none of it."