Darkest Path

By K. P, Sweeney

Carmen Santos, a marine researcher exploring derelict oil rigs off the Nicobar Islands, is mysteriously transported to a strange an unfamiliar land during a dive.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Rogue Phoenix Press
• Release date: Oct 23, 2023
• ISBN: 9781624207785

Book preview

Darkest Path

K. P. Sweeney

Published by Rogue Phoenix Press, LLP for Smashwords

Copyright © 2023

ISBN: 978-1-62420-778-5

Electronic rights reserved by Rogue Phoenix Press, LLP. The reproduction or other use of any part of this publication without the prior written consent of the rights holder is an infringement of the copyright law. This is a work of fiction. People and locations, even those with real names, have been fictionalized for the purposes of this story.

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

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 recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Part 1 - The Narrows

A corona of white light diffused through Carmen's heavy eyelids. The pleasant ignorance that preceded waking slowly vanished from her mind, replaced with a groaning awareness of her senses. Sore muscles flexed and protested as though she had the worst night's sleep of her life. The bed she was sleeping on was uncomfortably rigid and covered with something. Rocks?

Carmen's eyes shot open with a start. A powerful white light shone next to her on the ground, emanating from the tip of a silver rod. Spiraling filigree covered the entirety of the cylindrical surface, save for a smooth span near the unlit end. The light didn't appear to originate from a bulb and it didn't flicker like fire or produce heat.

Damp, umber earth smeared across her fingers as she flexed them and rose to her feet. Beyond the light, there was… nothing. A vast expanse of darkness menaced her in every direction. Apprehension gave way to panic as she whirled around, looking for something to orient her. The light on the ground was all that stood in defiance of the shadow.

She called out into the void, Hello! Is anybody there? I don't know where I am. She became increasingly aware of her drumming pulse as she waited for an answer. None came. Hello, she shouted more forcefully, is anyone there?

A bizarre realization darted into her mind as Carmen tried to understand what was happening, there were no stars. She cursed, staring into the dizzying expanse of sky. If the weather weren't overcast, she would at least have some preliminary sense of direction. Then she wondered if she should be travelling. Wasn't it better to stay put if you were lost? That depended on where one found themselves lost, she supposed. With the space above her feeling more like the lid of a casket than the sky, a sense of foreboding seeped into her mind.

She let the implications of remaining on this strange road settle. Staying put and making herself as visible as possible would make sense if others knew, however vaguely, where she was. A search party might have better odds of finding her if she could build a fire or make a message out of rocks for planes to read. Yet she had no idea where she was. Furthermore, there were no trees or large rocks, so those options were out.

Her anxiety receded as a cool calculus occupied her brain. She had always found the act of preparation to be calming. Before she began a job, she would plan with the end in mind. First, determine the reasonable outcome she desired. Second, identify potential hitches. Finally, prepare what was needed to reach her goal.

As she observed her surroundings, she became aware of the familiar cling of neoprene to her body. She was in her wetsuit—damp but not cold. Most of her dive gear was strewn about the ground. The regulator, tank, and mask were in a heap near the bright rod. She had a dive computer on her wrist, and at the edge of the light, she could see her dive bag partially veiled in shadow.

A growing sense of unease crept up Carmen's spine as she regarded the scarcely visible bag. The darkness beyond it felt malignant, as though it wanted to draw her in and make her a part of itself. She breathed, attempting to quell the part of her brain responsible for imagining nightmares lurking in the shadows. She was in an unusual situation, and having her gear would reassure and better equip her to face it. Moreover, if she was uncomfortable in the dark, she had light at her disposal.

The silver rod lay on the ground, dispelling the gloom around itself with brilliant intensity. Carmen pressed a cautious finger against the metal; it was cool to the touch. She grasped the smooth segment at the bottom and examined it. It was about half a meter in length and incredibly light. Carmen felt as though she could snap the rod if she gripped it too tightly. The light, though inspecting it almost blinded her, originated from the metal itself. If there were a place for batteries or a charging port, she couldn't find it.

She made her way to the dive bag, illuminating the path as she stepped forward. There was nothing in the darkness past that point. No monsters or boogie men ready to leap out and grab her. You're too old to be afraid of the dark, Carmen. She dropped to her knees and rooted through the dive bag. The inventory was sparse: a torch, 80-meter reel, a line cutter, a towel, and a DSLR camera. Not a hell of a lot.

It was then that she noticed an incongruity. The road was illuminated for ten, maybe twelve, meters out. However, a short distance to her side, the road disappeared completely. Carmen moved to the black edge, rod in hand. The road dropped off as she peered over its side and swung the rod down. The light revealed a thick, black muck. Oh good, a swamp.

Further inspection brought more questions. For whatever reason, the light didn't appear to shine as far into the bog as it did on the road. Perhaps the effect was a characteristic of the way the mud reflected light. She had no intention of trudging through the morass and didn't want to spend more time thinking about phenomena than she needed to. The situation was bizarre enough already.

How had she gotten here? She struggled with her memory, trying to tie together loose threads of recollection. She was working a research job off the Andaman and Nicobar Islands. The goal was to assess the economic and ecological benefits of abandoned oil rigs as artificial reefs. The cost of dismantling the rigs was astronomical, so a task force was created to investigate alternatives.

The rig in question, the Blue Frontier, was the subject of her study. Rigs became hotspots for marine wildlife throughout their lifespans, accumulating coral and aquatic inhabitants. Assuming the rig was decommissioned properly, there were valid financial and moral arguments for simply leaving it in the water. Carmen had been cataloguing wildlife around the rig and comparing it to fauna normally local to the islands.

Her memories felt weightless and detached, which was often how she felt during a dive. Images of rippling blue water spun into a blackening chasm. She was in that water, submerged and spinning. The coral-crusted lattice of the rig extended down as though it were being swallowed by the abyss. How far had she dived? The Andaman Sea was, on average, over a thousand meters deep, which meant finding a cave system would be absurd. She would have had to have reached the bottom of the rig and avoided death by pressure asphyxiation, nitrogen narcosis, and hypothermia. Furthermore, how did her dive bag end up with her? She had left it on the boat. She dismissed the idea of deep-sea caves and gathered her equipment.

The oxygen tank was awkward and heavy. Carmen wrestled with the notion of leaving it behind but ultimately decided to carry everything. The dark road was unnerving and having her gear brought her some comfort. At the very least, the tank could be used as a hammer if something or someone needed hammering. With that comforting thought, she set out.

~ * ~

Minutes blurred into hours along the road. To Carmen, the white glow of the rod felt like a bubble in an oily void. Periodically, the light would catch a figure on the ground—rocks or roots—and fingers of shadow extended out from the object as she approached. The effect addled her. She stopped to examine a root as she walked. Its coffee-coloured skin revealed a coat of plate-like barbs clinging to its length.

Hunger rumbled in her stomach and she reflexively placed a hand on her abdomen. It didn't matter how hungry she was; she wasn't going to stick barbed mystery roots in her mouth. Food had become an increasingly prominent concern as she walked the unchanging path. It had nearly replaced the chest-gripping tension of being surrounded by absolute darkness. If the road didn't lead to civilization soon, she would have to start looking for alternative food and water sources.

While the path appeared straight, more than once she found herself veering towards the edge that dropped off into the swamp. Perhaps the road curved imperceptibly, or maybe hours of carrying her equipment had hobbled her ability to walk a straight line. The wetsuit hadn't helped the journey either; it was designed to keep her warm while diving, not for protracted hikes. She couldn't tell if the humidity was rising or if the suit was simply doing its job. Fortunately, she had a tank top and shorts underneath. She decided to stop for a rest and strip off the restrictive suit.

She heaved her gear onto the ground, cursing herself for choosing to carry the tank. You're not in a cave system, Carmen. There is an abundant supply of oxygen and a colossal span of nothing around you. While the prospect of being drawn into a massive underwater cave system was impossible, the alternative was equally bizarre. She must have covered twenty-five to thirty kilometers, yet she was still on a dark road in the middle of a swamp with no discernible landmarks.

The accumulated weariness of the hike turned her thoughts to rest. The prospect of sleeping exposed on the road was unsettling, but there was no alternative. She bundled her towel into a pillow and clutched the line cutter to her chest as she lay on the uneven earth. After several minutes of discomforted tossing and turning, she became aware of a sensation that had been with her since her arrival but couldn’t pin down. The stillness around her was absolute, no buzzing insects or bird songs. The only sounds being made came from her: skin sliding against fabric, the whining passage of air through her nostrils—each increasingly acute. Sleep came uneasily.

Two eyes shone in the darkness, stalking into focus as she woke. The twisted sense of perspective confused her. The eyes were huge and bright, occasionally flitting around as though attached to giant stalks. Dread gripped her as she entered a waking nightmare. She scrambled to her feet as the creature picked up speed. Hurriedly grabbing what she could, she turned to run, sparing a glance at the oncoming creature. Panic cleared the fog of sleep and she understood what was approaching. The lights were the same as her own, but dimmer. There were others on the road.

She couldn't stop herself from smiling, but elation quickly curdled into caution. The motives of these people were unknown. For all she knew, they may have been the ones who brought her here. She pulled her tank upright and placed it at her side. If she needed to defend herself, it would be a far more effective weapon than the line cutter.

Two figures jogged closer, stopping a cautious distance from her. There was an uneasy pause between the three of them as they assessed each other. The pair looked haggard, as if they had been hiking for days. The gear they were carrying suggested they planned for a hike. The man was tall with square shoulders and had a mop of chestnut hair; unchecked stubble highlighted a tentative smile. The woman had a length of auburn hair tied into a ponytail and matched her companion in height. Her eyes possessed a wariness the man's lacked.

The man was the first to speak. Hi, he said, hand half-raised, I'm Allan, and this is Rachel. Do you have any idea where the hell we are?

They don't look dangerous. Well, maybe she does.

I'm sorry, I don't. I've been on this road for maybe less than a day. I woke up here, Carmen said, doing her best to sound unthreatening. I… She stopped and looked up. The sky was still dark. She had spent hours walking and sleeping, but the sun hadn't come up.

The woman, Rachel, picked up on her confusion. We've been here four days. The sky doesn't change, she explained in a matter-of-fact tone, then she raised her rod towards Carmen, but these do.

At a glance, the rod was identical to Carmen's. The single obvious difference was the light of this one was significantly less powerful. Allan's was the same. The discovery that the light could dim made her heart sink. The image of people wandering blindly in the dark came to her unbidden.

Do you remember how you got here?

No, Allan replied, we were on a camping trip together. The last either of us can remember is walking at night to see the stars.

An expression crossed Rachel's face at the comment—a rueful smile or perhaps a scowl. Carmen couldn't tell exactly what it meant. She was certainly not going to ask. Something about the woman made her uneasy.

I'm sorry, but we need to keep moving. If our lights are going out, yours can too, Rachel said with restrained urgency. We need to find a way out of here.

Allan placed a hand on her shoulder, but it was received with a deepening frown. Why don't we walk and talk? You have the light, we have some supplies. I think pooling our resources could go a long way.

The alternative was abandoning her last connection to humanity, so Carmen agreed.

~ * ~

The comforts of company were a welcome reprieve from the oppressive atmosphere of their surroundings. Allan was cordial, albeit worn by the days spent on the road. From him, Carmen learned that he and Rachel had been searching for a spot to have a starlit picnic. They had found themselves walking under a canopy of trees that blotted out the light from the sky. The next thing they knew, they were waking up on the road.

Allan concluded his story on a disturbing note. They were camping in Algonquin Park, Ontario—the other side of the world. At this point, Carmen decided to share with them a few details about herself. Specifically, that the last thing she remembered was working in the Andaman Sea. The conversation dwindled as the trio contemplated the discrepancy between where they had come from. Silence seemed to suit Rachel perfectly.

They were settling down to get some rest when Carmen thought of a question, You've both been in this place longer than me, but I was ahead of you. What turned you around?

Rachel, who had been silent for hours at this point, answered, We went the wrong way. There's a dead-end in the other direction.

Allan stiffened and elaborated, The path drops off into more of the sludge you see on either side of it. We decided not to trudge through it.

Their body language told a sore story—an argument over the direction or what they should do. Carmen thought it best to leave the subject alone. No sense in kicking the hive. Allan must have felt the same because he quickly changed the subject to the oxygen tank Carmen carried. Her reasoning for carrying it sounded even more ridiculous out loud. She explained how she thought she might be in a cave system and how the tank might be needed to resurface. The explanation drew an arched eyebrow from Rachel.

Carmen's thoughts drifted back to the road. It had never occurred to her that the direction she chose could have gotten her lost in total darkness. She had made the correct choice by chance, but that turn of good luck was no guarantee that they were going to make it out of this place before her light went out. That sour note marked the first night she slept alongside her new company.

Where she could not find comfort in the damp, lumpy earth, she found it in her new companions. The situation had not changed much; she was still lost in a strange, dark land. Yet she wasn't alone, and that smoothed the edges of her anxiety. Rachel’s flinty demeanour fell away as she slept, and Allan's chest rose and fell, accompanied by a soft snore. Carmen was struck with a pang of sorrow. She had a son back home. He was always on her mind, but in the safe company of others, those feelings grew more acute.

Sleep was more difficult than on the first night. Night was perhaps the wrong word. There had been no break in the darkness beyond the light of the rod she carried. The rolled-up towel was a poor substitute for a pillow, and her back ached from the unyielding ground. Every so often, her eyes would open at the barely perceptible sound of someone walking through mud. Real or imagined, it put her on edge. She rolled to keep her companions at her back and stared into the void until she drifted off.

~ * ~

A shuffle of activity woke Carmen the next day. Rachel was stuffing a book into her backpack and Allan was crouched on the ground, separating a scarce amount of trail mix into three piles—today's breakfast. Guilt throbbed in her chest as she questioned the burden she was placing on them. It looked as though they had gone through much of what they brought. Was the trade of food for light a fair one? If it were not for their generosity, she might have starved.

With a swig of warm water from Allan's canteen for each of them, they set out on the shadowed path. The day's travel was long and humid. Periodically, they stopped to rest; other times, they came to a sudden halt, half-hearing a faint sound somewhere beyond their meager bubbles of light. Despite the miles under their feet, little about the scenery changed. Barbed roots sprung up from the ground every so often and, on rare occasions, something small and insectile would skitter from the light. The latter event would always cause Rachel to flinch. When the hunger and hiking blisters became too much for them, they sat down for a more significant rest.

Do you have any family back home? Allan asked as he absentmindedly prepared their dinner.

A son, Carmen replied.

You mentioned your work takes you around. That must be hard for you both.

It's not so bad, she said. My mother is a big help. She looks after him when I'm away. The trips are usually not very long. If I'm lucky, I get to take him with me.

Lucky you didn't this time, Rachel said. Allan gave her a she-has-enough-to-worry-about look that was either missed or ignored.

She was right, though. Blunt, but right. True enough, Carmen said.

Then we’d be splitting food four ways.

The underlying point was received. To Rachel, Carmen was a leech siphoning off their rapidly dwindling resources. She had convinced herself that the light from her rod was a fair trade. Their light had faded to a candle's halo after all. Still, she felt tendrils of paranoia creep through her mind. What is stopping them from taking my light?

Rachel was, at best, fed up with her new reality. At worst, she was calculating the actions she and Allan needed to survive. Allan seemed nice enough, but everyone had their limit. What were the limits of human decency in the perpetual absence of light? How long before hunger gnawed away the foundation of someone's morals?

Allan spoke, sensing her discomfort, We've had a long day, or whatever counts for a day here. Why don't we all eat and get some sleep?

Carmen didn't sleep with her back to them. The tenuous reassurance of human contact was slipping away, replaced with a fear of the unknown and growing suspicion. If she was forced to, she would run. Perhaps she would finally abandon the stupid oxygen tank she lugged around. Maybe that was part of the reason Rachel was harsh. Why would she want to help someone wasting their precious energy on a heap of metal and gas? As she lay looking at her companions, Carmen clutched the rod protectively to her chest. It was an anchor; it brought her a feeling of security as she lay in the darkness. Once again, a faint sound of something trudging through mud drifted in from some place unseen. This time, she was certain it was accompanied by whispers.

~ * ~

She awoke before Allan or Rachel. To her relief, she still had her light, though the aura it produced had diminished. The waning of the light shouldn’t have been a surprise, but it still struck her—an impending deadline to be cast into blind oblivion. The reality her companions had been living was now her own. She glanced towards the couple, her eyes finding Allan's backpack and lingering there. She could take it and run. Their lights had almost extinguished. If she slipped far enough away, she could cover her light like a hooded lantern and conceal her travel. She dismissed the thought, disgusted with herself.

Carmen's gaze shifted from the bag to the couple. Rachel's eyes were open and locked on her. Carmen tensed at the accusation in the stare. Something in Rachel’s expression shifted—a trace of a smile without any affection, the look of someone who had been proven right. She had been suspicious of Carmen since they met, and now her intuition would be validated regardless of whether or not Carmen acted on that selfish impulse. They laid on the ground and looked at each other without moving.

Allan’s clothes rustled as he woke, placing a hold on the wordless exchange between the two. The air would need to be cleared at some point. If Carmen let the suspicions fester too long, Rachel would act on them. She would talk to them today. If she could get Rachel to voice what she was thinking, then Allan would mediate her grievances. Mercifully, Allan hadn't developed any of the sharp edges Rachel had. For the past few days, he had been overwhelmingly positive, despite being exhausted. Opposites attract. Today, however, a sullen air had overcome him. It didn't take long to figure out why.

Rachel's hand rested on top of his shoulder as they held out their silver rods. The three of them stood and watched as the orbs of light at the tip of each rod went out. It was like seeing the bright heat from a piece of coal fade to black. The solemnity of the event shook the three of them. Carmen didn't dare break the silence, but she thought this may be a chance to assuage Rachel's suspicion.

She stepped over to her dive bag and rooted around until she found her torch. It was a high-quality dive light with adjustable settings. She approached the couple and offered it to Rachel. She hesitated before taking it from Carmen's hand.

A flashlight? she asked.

For diving. It's a bit different than a regular flashlight, Carmen replied. It should have a full charge. On its lowest setting, the light lasts over 24 hours.

Thank you, said Allan. That's a generous gift, given our circumstances.

Less than the food you've shared, she said, hoping