Page 60 of Breaking the Dark

They both look up into the blue, blue sky, and then down again in unison at the dry, dry grass, at the layer of dust that sits atop the dull surface of the road, and then across to the slick puddles of rain on the driveway of Belle’s house as the gates slowly come back together with a menacing metallic smash.

Jessica looks at Belle and shrugs.

“Did you just fly?” asks Belle, staring up at her with wide eyes.

“I would not refer to that as flying. Just very adept jumping.”

Belle makes a scoffing noise. “Oh my God,” she says. “What are you? Are you a super hero?”

“No. I’m just sporty. But hey, talk to me about that.” She points at the blue sky now hanging over Belle’s property. “What just happened there?”

“I don’t know. It…” Belle looks lost for words, her hands upturned at her sides. “I don’t know,” she says again and lets her hands drop.

“You think that was normal, what just happened? Has it happened before?”

Belle nods. “Yes. It often happens. I think it’s a microclimate?”

Jessica groans. “A microclimate? God help me. No, that was not a microclimate. That was some crazy voodoo shit. That was—” She cuts herself off when she sees the girl’s rather blank expression. What’s the point? “How are you feeling?”

“I feel fine.”

“You feel fine?”

“Yes.”

“So, no agoraphobia?”

“No.”

“You up for a walk?”

“Yes! But I should probably tell Debra where I’m going first.”

“Can you just message her?”

“She doesn’t have a phone.”

“She doesn’t have a—?”

“Yes. I know. It’s weird. She’s anti-tech. In this time-warp kind of thing. Forever stuck in the 1980s when everything was ‘perfect’ apparently. Hates modern stuff.”

“Wait,” says Jessica. “What did you just say? Perfect? Debra likes things to be perfect?”

But as she says this and before Belle can reply, there is a loud metallic clank, and the rusted gates begin to swing open again slowly. Debra appears between them, her arms folded across her chest, the dogs standing panting behind her. She looks different somehow, less unassuming, more threatening, and Jessica feels a thrum of energy pass between them, something dark and solid. She wonders, for just a brief moment, if maybe Debra has super-powers, but stores the thought away.

“What’s going on?” says Debra, looking from Jessica to Belle and back again.

Jessica takes hold of Belle’s arm, gently. “I’m taking Belle for a cream tea at my hotel. Want to come?”

Debra narrows her eyes. “Belle is not really meant to…”

“What? Go out?”

“Her parents prefer her to remain at home, so they know where she is.”

Jessica glances at Belle. “How old are you?” she asks her.

“Sixteen.”