The Collection

Chapter 1 Carter pulled the door to the school building shut and stepped into the night, clutching a leather satchel containing his students’ essays under his arm. The bank of storm clouds hovering low over the city had made a pale stain of the full moon, and the approaching tempest had sucked up all the air, creating a vacuum which made it difficult to draw breath. People hurried by on the footpath, scurrying away like rabbits from beneath the eagle’s shadow. It was no surprise one of the frightened rabbits slammed into him, sending his leather satchel flying across the pavement and onto the road. “Sorry fella,” said the middle-aged man as he stooped down and picked up the bag. “Everyone’s gone a bit crazy.” Carter took his satchel from the man. “Probably the storm,” he said, tucking it back under his arm. “They say it’s going to be a big one.” Carter thanked the man and watched him hurry away. He chuckled to himself and shook his head. “People!” He turned into the tree-lined street where he’d parked his car and watched a couple of dead leaves skid along the pavement. Above the canopy of the trees, clouds raced like spectres across the sky, seemingly dragging the tempest along behind them. A rustle of leaves announced the arrival of the gale and soon even the heftiest branches were swaying like supple green twigs. Carter quickened his step. He could see his car a few metres further along by the side of the road. Overhead there was a crack of thunder and for a split second the sky flashed a dazzling white. The scent of rain was heavy in the air and when it fell it came down like a torrent. Carter pulled his jacket over his head and stuffed the leather satchel underneath, doing his best to protect it from the elements, though its dark edges told him the rain had already found it. Another crack of thunder. A leaf hit him in the face, slid across his cheek, and passed over the hand holding his jacket in place. He went to brush it away, but was too slow. In the blink of eye, it was recaptured by the raging wind. When he focused on the way ahead, the night appeared to shimmer. The lights and shadows blurred, merging into each other and wavering. He blinked and wondered if he’d been putting in too many hours at work. Beside him the school building was a monstrous dark shape in the night, silent and empty. Unlike him, his colleagues had had the good sense to go home hours ago. He reached into his jacket pocket and found his keys, but an almighty clap of thunder caught him by surprise and he dropped them. He sucked his teeth and a small crease appeared between his eyebrows as he bent down to snatch them up. Before he became fully upright again, the darkness came alive and washed over him like a wave, engulfing him completely. It was as if the night had grown a mouth and he’d inadvertently stepped into its gaping maw. Bewildered, he spun around in the darkness, his eyes searching the pitch for a way out. Yet there was nothing to guide him. The street lights, the trees and even the wind and rain had all disappeared, and he was standing alone in a void. For a long while he stood still. Random thoughts, mere wisps, meandered through his mind, but none of them explained how he’d come to be in such a featureless space. He began walking, his arms stretched out in front of him to feel for any obstacles like parked cars that may lay in his way. He’d gone a few metres when it dawned on him he no longer had the leather satchel containing his students’ work. He went to turn around but almost immediately realised how futile it would be to find something so small in the darkness, and instead he kept moving forwards. It was difficult to navigate in such pitch blackness. For all he knew he was going around in circles. Either the cars, the trees, and the buildings of Primrose Avenue had disappeared or—and he shivered at the thought—he was no longer in Primrose Avenue. Each conclusion seemed as illogical as the other. He kept tripping over his feet and in his mind’s eye he had an image of what he must have looked like, walking blindly with his arms outstretched and his feet tap-tapping the ground beneath him, checking for ridges and dips. He moved like a marionette being operated by a drunkard, clumsily and jerkily inching forwards. There was no telling how much time had elapsed when he noticed a greyish smudge in the inkiness ahead. It appeared to be some distance away, but his pulse quickened when he realised he finally had some point in the dark to aim for, possibly a way out. His pace quickened; his stride becoming a mutant half-walking, half-running motion. The closer he got, the larger the grey area became. He could see it was punctuated by thin black streaks, perhaps the trunks of trees. Could it be he’d been on Primrose Avenue the whole time? When he was just metres away he could see the greyness was a pale, powdery light and the black streaks were indeed tree trunks, but they weren’t those lining Primrose Avenue. This was a forest and the greyness was moonlight filtering down through the canopy. Carter heard the crunch of dry leaves beneath his shoes. He looked down and saw the void had given way to the forest. Glancing over his shoulder he could see only trees, surrounding him like an enemy. Trunks stood like soldiers; their branches, weapons. The void had disappeared, leaving behind only a shimmering remnant of its existence; which itself soon dissipated like mist into the night. Suddenly he felt very alone. “Hello!” he called out, his hands cupped around his mouth to funnel his voice. “Can anybody hear me? Hello!” And then his hands dropped to his sides. The thought occurred to him there might be danger lurking in the shadows, creatures or men who would harm him. His ears pricked up, straining to hear their approach. He turned his head slowly, scanning the night for any hint he wasn’t alone. Hearing nothing, he stepped carefully forwards. Every sense was honed, not just because there might be danger, but also because he needed to find a way out of the forest, out of the nightmare he’d unwittingly stumbled into. The sound of his footsteps in the leaf litter had a strange effect on him. There were times he was oblivious to it, too focused on the shadows and the movements within them, and then other times it lulled him into a trance-like state. He could feel himself moving forwards but had no sense of his body. He yawned. It had been a long day at school and an even longer evening. As he’d locked the front door of the school, images of a warm bath, a bottle of wine, and a freshly made bed had filled his head. Now his concerns lay with finding his way out of the forest, ascertaining where he was, and returning safely to more familiar surroundings. His eyes rolled skywards. “Why me?” he beseeched the heavens. “Why?!”