There was once a town that disappeared at night. Not literally, of course, but the truth was just as strange – the town emitted no light. There were no street lamps, traffic lights, and certainly no TVs or smartphones. Strangers driving past in the dark didn’t know there was a town there at all.
Those who did know hardly talked about anything else. But of all the people who knew, only Carly Ainsworth had the right to talk. In her opinion. Her granddad lived there, had done since her dad died.
“It’s…it’s a tradition of sorts, I suppose.” her granddad said one afternoon while she was on the phone with him, “No. No. It isn’t.” His words became an incomprehensible mutter.
Carly waited. Her granddad was at the age were patience was necessary.
“How about you come over and I’ll explain it to you?” he said, “It’ll be easier to explain in person.”
Carly loved her granddad, but she wasn’t keen to visit the town. People said it was ran by a cult, a bunch of techno-fearing wack-jobs. What if she went in and never came out again?
Her step dad, David, didn’t help.
“Cultism.” he’d grouch, “That’s what it is. A big, bloody cult!”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” her mum would say, “It’s a simpler life. Remember that article about the terrible effect technology is having on our mental health. I’m happy that he has a healthy lifestyle after…”
The family death went unspoken, as it always did.
“Besides, he must save a purse-full!” Her mum said, “It’s good for his pension, if nothing else.”
Carly agreed with David, though she wouldn’t admit it to her mum. A simpler life? Fine, but no street lamps and traffic lights wasn’t simple, it was downright dumb.
“It’s because of David, isn’t it?” Her granddad’s voice brought her attention back to the call. “I don’t care what he thinks, he shouldn’t have married your mother!”
“He’s not so bad.” When they first met, she was ready to hate him. She’d heard too many stories about step parents from hell, but David was closer to a brother.
Grumbling, her granddad quickly changed the subject, “Did they ever tell you about them moths at school? The ones that turned black because of smoke in the 1800s?”
“Peppered moths. What about them?”
“You know how they changed because of something we did? We pumped out smoke, turned trees black, and the moths turned black so they could hide and not get eaten.”
“It doesn’t quite work like that. They didn’t change colour, it was directional selection…”
“No, listen. You’re missing the point.” he sighed. “You know, I tried explaining this to your dad too.”
Carly’s heart stung. The unspoken death suddenly out in the open had her struggling for words, but he dropped the subject as quickly as he brought it up.
“These peppery moths came about because of a big change. Now, what else has changed recently? Tell me. Show me you’re listening.”
“I don’t know.”
“Yes, you do. Come on.”
She didn’t want to talk about moths. She wanted to talk about her dad. Her granddad had been the only one there the day of his heart attack.
“I honestly don’t know. Can’t you just tell me?”
“Artificial light. It’s everywhere nowadays. On the streets, in your rooms, in your hands. Suppose a creature could use that. Well…that’s why we don’t have lights over here.”
“Because of…” A creature.
Carly could hear her step-dad’s voice in her head. All it takes is a point of weakness and then they draw you in. Her heart hammered against her ribs. To hell with the town and their weirdness!
“Maybe it is better if you explain in person.” she said, “Could I come visit? Tomorrow?”
There was a pause. “Really? You want to visit? That’s fantastic.” he breathed a relieved sigh, “Yes, you’re right. This will all be easier to explain in person.”
The next afternoon, her granddad arrived in the car to pick her up. Mum tried to invite him inside, but the glare between her granddad and David and Carly knew it wasn’t going to happen. She kissed her mum and David goodbye, and got into the car.
This is a rescue mission, she reminded herself, as the diminishing distance between her and the town sped up her heart beat.
As they drove through the town, Carly scanned the streets and the people. No one looked odd, but she didn’t think they would. Cults are supposed to blend in, aren’t they?
Traffic wardens directed the cars since there were no traffic lights. Carly clung to her seat belt, but there no car hit them and they made it safely to her granddad’s bungalow. She asked what would happen if people wanted to drive at night. They didn’t. There was a curfew.
They spent the afternoon making Shepard’s Pie, and talking about Carly’s school work, her friends, and what she wanted to do and all that. She wasn’t sure what she said, she just wanted her granddad to be comfortable before she did what she was there to do.
She brought it up at dinner.
“Granddad.” she said, pushing mashed potato around her plate, “Remember what we talked about yesterday?”
He was using his knife to scrape his plate clean, and she shuddered when he suddenly stopped. “I remember. I was waiting for the best time to bring it up.”
She smiled. “Me too.”
He smiled back, though it looked sad. “I know what you’re thinking. You think I’m daft. A daft old git.”
He pointed his knife at her. “You can’t fool me.” That same sad smile. “Your mum told me what David thinks. I know about the rumours and they’re not true, not one of them. It may look strange to you on the outside, but it’s safer here. That’s all it is.”
Carly frowned. This wasn’t a gated community. She hadn’t even seen a police car, though she supposed they weren’t allowed either. “Safe from what?”
“Let’s clean up first.” He stood and pushed his chair under the table.
“Can’t we talk about it now?”
He either didn’t hear or chose to ignore her. He took the plates into the kitchen. Carly washed the dishes while her granddad dried them.
He stared out the window the whole time. The setting sun reflected off his glasses. “Did you bring your phone?”
“You should send your mother a message, tell her you’re staying the night. She can’t drive down here with those head lights on, and I don’t want her to get hurt. Do it now before the sun sets.”
She dried her hands and went into the lounge, where her phone was sitting in the bottom of her bag.
Be ready to pick me up any time. In case of emergency.
She sent it to David. He’ll understand.
Back in the kitchen, her granddad wiped the counter and wouldn’t meet her eyes. “Did you switch it off?”
“That’s good. We can’t have light here after dark. Candles are okay, just no artificial light.” he scrubbed the counter furiously, “You young people are on your phones all the time, carrying it around with you, letting it leech off you everyday until…” he made a frustrated sound and Carly realised he was crying.
She wrapped her arms around him.
He shook as he cried and it made her want to cry too.
“You’ll end up like Sammy. You will, and Francesca will. Even bloody David will. But you won’t believe your silly old Granddad, will you?”
“I’ll believe you. I’ll believe anything you say, honest I will!” She felt guilty for the lie but she was desperate to stop him crying. She was tried of crying over her dad. She wanted to stop the pain, desperately hoped that one day they could talk about him again, and it’ll make everything better.
But no one ever did and that was worse. It was like he never existed.
“Why don’t we go see Mum?” she pleaded, “I’ll kick David out, he listens to me. We can go see Mum and it’ll be like it was-“
He turned sharply and grabbed her by the shoulders. “It’s not safe there! Not at this time.”
“We’ll be inside, of course it’s safe.”
He scowled and turned to the window. He sniffed, “Help…help your granddad light some candles, will you? Gets dark so quickly this time of year.”
By the time they finished lighting candles around the house, the sun was near the horizon.
They sat in the lounge. Carly sat on the settee and picked her fingernails. Her granddad moved backwards and forwards on the rocking chair. The darker it got, the more nervous she became. The candlelight cast frightening shadows all around her. People who hate artificial light are idiots.
“It’s not really safe is it?” she said, in an effort to calm her nerves, “All these candles in the dark? Aren’t you worried about a fire?”
Now the sun had set, the only light was the faint candle glow that blackened her granddad’s wrinkles. His face looked like a cracked doll. He said, very quietly, “It killed your dad, Carly.”
She said nothing.
“I know it’s a lot to take in. I didn’t realise it at first, but I talked to the folk around here who know-“
“- They’ve seen it too, you see. It’s all true.”
“Dad had heart problems.” She pushed back tears, forcing herself to stay strong, “Just like Grandma did. It wasn’t a creature, it was a heart attack.“
His face twisted. “No it – it’s like the moths – the peppery moths. Changed so they could live in the world we created.”
“A creature that only lives in artificial light?” she couldn’t stop her tears now, “Granddad, please listen to yourself.”
“You don’t think it’s possible for a creature to do that?”
“It might be. It probably is.” she wiped her face on her sleeve, “But it didn’t kill Dad. I-I think you believe this story because your traumatised…b-because your son died in front of you.”
“We think it sleeps in the day -“
“-because there’s more light at night. That’s better for it. It goes to the light because that’s what it’s prey likes. It latches onto them and it stays with them and you – you don’t see it, but it drains you. All this news about mental health, physical problems all because -“
Carly took hold of his hand, “Please come home. Come see Mum. She misses you. Come in the day if you h -“
There was a pounding on the front door.
Her granddad went very still. He slowly brought his finger to his mouth, “They don’t like that you’re here.” he whispered, “Go hide in the bedroom. I’ll send them away.”
Everything she feared was coming true. She ran into the lounge to get her phone to tell David to pick her up right now. The phone shone a harsh light and only then did she notice the figure watching through the window.
“She has a light!” the person outside shrieked, and a orchestra of footsteps invaded the house.
Carly fled into the bathroom and locked the door. It wasn’t long before fists rapped against it, so loud it jarred her teeth.
“Open up!” barked a voice she didn’t recognise.
Someone shushed it, and a gentler voice said, “Little girl – Carly? Carly. Open the door. We’re not here to hurt you.”
Throat dry from panic, she breathlessly dialled the police and pressed the phone to her ear.
“Carly, please listen.” said her granddad. “They just want you to switch off your phone.”
She ignored him. Was the phone even ringing? All she could hear was her thundering heart. She felt a terrible pain in her chest – and then nothing at all.
By the time the mob broke down the door, it was too late to call an ambulance. Carly Ainsworth was dead.
It was a heart attack that killed her, so the newspapers were told. It soon came out that she had a hereditary weakness of her heart, strained by the stress brought on by the angry mob. The mysterious town was quickly deserted after that. Those who once lived there pretended they hadn’t.
Estranged from his grieving family and declared “unfit” to take care of himself, Carly’s granddad was sent to an old people’s home. One morning, a few weeks after he moved in, a nurse came in to find his body cold and his bedside light hot.