Night is
supposed to fade in by degrees as the sun disappears from the horizon, then as
its glow slips away. Night is not supposed to roll literally in. This time it
did. It wasn’t fog or some cloud, but a visible darkness that coursed along. I
had been in storms with massive dust clouds that swallowed up the light and cut
all visibility, but that wasn’t this. Nor was this the absence of light. It was
darkness. The only way to tell the difference was that all lights became
oppressed. The darkness pushed the light back towards its source, refusing it
to penetrate.
The light
in my office, which was perfectly suited to keep all the shadows at bay,
normally, became a pale glow no brighter than a nightlight. I turned on my
phone, and the screen was nearly pitch dark. I could barely discern the
outlines of icons. I hit the app that turned the camera’s flash into a flashlight,
and it might as well have been a lighter.
The office phone
rang; Jen answered it. I had to give her credit that she didn’t freak out at
the darkness. I gave myself credit, too. Curiosity delayed the onset of terror.
My own
phone rang. The screen was a little brighter, so I just make out the right
icon.
“Matt
Allen,” I answered.
“Matt!” Jen
yelled, “Belport PD on the line for you.
“Matthew,”
I recognized Nikki’s sultry voice, “at your earliest convenience, I hope you
will investigate this darkness which has swallowed the entire city. I fear
things will turn ugly very quickly if this continues.”
“Yeah. Got
another call.” I disconnected and fumbled for the desk phone, prepared to hear
Detective James Collins yell at me, trying to understand what was going on.
Yeah. This sounds about right. What happened
to my simple cases?