A Gift from the Gods

by Martin Gunn

  “I’m quite sure,” confirmed von Brandt, “would it be possible to view it?”

  “When did you have in mind?”

  “How about now?”

  “Err,” she pondered with a hesitant tone, “I guess that will be okay. I’ll just check with my boss.”

  With that she disappeared out into a back office and returned smiling with a key in her hand.

  “If you’d like to follow me, my car is out the back. The property is about an hour’s drive north of the city.”

  It was a long drive for von Brandt, all the way trying his best to fend off what to him was inane chitter chatter. The woman, who had introduced herself as Faith to an indifferent von Brandt, eventually pulled up in front of the rundown warehouse.

  They both alighted from the car, and von Brandt looked around him. It was perfect, there was nothing for miles and the building had been clearly undisturbed for several years. Faith took a key out of her purse and unlocked a padlock, removed the chain securing the doors, and then tried to open it, with little success. Von Brandt took over and dragged the large doors open with relative ease. Faith was impressed and smiled at him as they both entered.

  “Are you sure this is what you are looking for?” she enquired doubtfully.

  Surveying the surroundings, von Brandt saw that the building was mostly of wooden construction with a tin corrugated roof. There were gaps in the walls where beams of sunlight shone through in bright shafts, picking out dust suspended in the air.

  “This will do perfectly,” he confirmed.

  “How long were you thinking of renting it, the minimum lease is six months,” advised Faith, getting businesslike.

  “I think a year would be enough to be going on with.”

  “Great,” beamed Faith, pleased to make a deal, “we’ll return to the office and do the paperwork.”

  After paying up front for the whole year, von Brandt walked away with the keys to his newly acquired property and directions on how to find it again. By seven-thirty he was waiting where Kimberley had dropped him off earlier, carrying several bags of clothes which he had purchased.

  “Looks like you’ve been busy,” she laughed as von Brandt slid into the passenger seat.

  “Yes,” he smiled.

  More than you think, he thought.

  ***

  Looking at the plate of food which Kimberley had placed in front of him, von Brandt studied it curiously. He had never eaten such a meal before. It comprised of two discs of meat, sandwiched between bread buns and a pile of thinly sliced potatoes, which appeared to have been deep fried. He had seen food similar to this for sale all over town but had resisted the temptation to try it. Aware that Jez and Kimberley were staring at him, he looked up to see Jez holding a burger in his hand, taking a bite, and chewing noisily. He decided to follow suit, picking one up and sinking his teeth into it. As he chewed, he discovered that the taste was rather good and potato fries were a revelation. Von Brandt thought that they were delicious.

  “I couldn’t help but notice that vehicle with a crane attached in your yard,” stated von Brandt swallowing some food and wiping his mouth.

  “Yeah,” uttered Jez, casually, “don’t get to use it much these days.”

  “I have a use for it,” replied von Brandt, “I can pay for its hire.”

  “Oh, and what use would that be?”

  “I left a…err…vehicle out in the desert, that needs to be retrieved.”

  “Right,” nodded Jez, “your memory’s coming back to you, is it?”

  “A little,” confirmed von Brandt, keeping up the pretence. He didn’t want either of them asking awkward questions.

  “I have an errand to run in the morning, but we could set out around mid-day, if that’s okay.

  “Yes, that would be …okay,” agreed von Brandt.

  After an evening watching TV, whilst drinking beer with Kimberley and Jez, von Brandt stood up at 11.00pm and announced that he was retiring to bed. Watching him as he left for the spare bedroom, Kimberley smiled and rejoined, “Goodnight.”

  Jez observed the attention that she was giving him,

  “Don’t you start getting any ideas missy,” he grunted quietly, when von Brandt was out of earshot.

  “What!” hissed an indignant Kimberley, “No – you’ve got it wrong. I’m not interested in him. Not in that way anyhow.”

  “Just be careful,” advised Jez, “we don’t know anything about him.”

  “I’m off to bed,” announced Kimberley, annoyed and not wanting to continue with the conversation.

  Jez stood up, shook his head, switched off the TV and went to his room. He was curious about what Gary had left in the desert, and a little concerned about his reticence concerning it. Jez wasn’t convinced that Gary had lost his memory; either way, he surmised, all will be revealed tomorrow.

  ***

  By mid-afternoon, Jez and von Brandt were heading down the desert road in Jez’s huge truck with the crane. Earlier that morning, von Brandt had been awoken by talking coming from the kitchen. Kimberley was asking her father how much longer this stranger in their house would be staying, making von Brandt realise that it was just as well they were going to retrieve the Glocke today, since he might just be outstaying his welcome. As soon as the machine was secured he could be free of them.

  Jez was making what to von Brandt was inane conversation, talking for the sake of it – he was barely listening. All he could think about was how he was going to explain the machine. Eventually Jez slowed down to a stop.

  “Why have we stopped?” enquired von Brandt.

  “We’ve come to the skid marks where I nearly knocked you down,” stated Jez, “have you any idea how long you were walking for? We need a good idea of when you found the road. It’s a big area out there.”

  “I would say between thirty and forty-five minutes, definitely no longer than that.”

  “Given the way you were staggering, it shouldn’t be too far from here,” reasoned Jez, “we’ll give it another ten minutes then turn off the road.”

  As they turned right onto the sandy surface, Jez pointed to the glove box.

  “There’s a pair of binoculars in there, they might be useful.”

  Von Brandt leant forwards to open the glove box, and as he did so, caught a glimpse in the side mirror of a black pick-up following some distance behind. He guessed correctly that it was Curtis, who had been monitoring his movements since the day before. Ignoring this complication for the time being, von Brandt pointed in the general direction in which he had walked.

  “I kept to a westerly direction as best as I could, so we need to head east.”

  “How long did you walk for, do you think?”

  “Eleven or twelve hours.” Replied von Brandt.

  “Man, you’re one tough son-of-a-bitch,” babbled Jez incredulously, “without water, most men would have died out there.”

  The truck trundled along in an easterly direction, whilst von Brandt scanned the desert around him with the binoculars. After two hours there was nothing. Just sand and scrub. Then just as Jez was considering giving up, von Brandt barked,

  “I see it!” He was pointing over to his right.

  Jez squinted in the general direction; he could just make out an object through the shimmering heat. Putting his truck into gear, they lumbered their way over to the curious-looking object and as they eventually pulled up close to it, Jez was dumbfounded.

  “Is this it?” he exclaimed.

  Von Brandt simply nodded.

  “What the hell is it?” exclaimed Jez again.

  The Nazi dismounted from the truck, walked over to the camouflaged mound and pulled the tarpaulin off with a flourish.

  “It’s a time machine,” stated von Brandt laconically.

  Curtis had pulled up behind a small rock formation
some five hundred yards away and was also looking at the time machine through the telescopic sights of his rifle with equal bewilderment. Their stalker wasn’t fooling von Brandt, however; Jez may have been oblivious to Curtis’s presence but he wasn’t.

  “Time machine,” scoffed Jez, “you messing with me boy?”

  Von Brandt opened the side hatch and entered. Seconds later he stepped out again holding a spade and a metal loop.

  “No, Jez I am not… err… messing with you,” replied von Brandt as he clambered onto the machine and screwed the loop into a hole on the top.

  “But…but…” stammered Jez incoherently.

  “Look, can you lift it onto your truck? While we still have daylight,” appealed von Brandt from the top of the machine.

  Jez nodded and set to work. He moved his truck a little closer, then swung the hook from the crane over to von Brandt, who secured it to the loop. Then after von Brandt scrambled down, Jez endeavoured to lift the machine off the ground. The truck started to list heavily under the weight, and Jez set it back down again.

  “How heavy is this darned thing?” he shouted.

  Von Brandt shrugged, he had no idea. Jez stepped down and pulled out two stabilising arms, fore and aft of the trailer, then stepped back up for another attempt. This time, much to von Brandt’s relief, the truck remained stable and the Glocke was lifted onto the back of the truck. Jez covered the cargo and began strapping it down, whilst von Brandt picked up the spade and made his way over to the Joshua tree, where he had buried the diamonds and box of ampules.

  Watching from atop of his truck, Jez was getting nervous as he saw Gary start to dig a short distance away. What had he hidden? Obviously, something valuable. He was beginning to worry about what he had got himself into. Stepping down, he opened the door to the cab and looked behind the seat. There, wrapped in a blanket was a shotgun. Jez picked it up just as von Brandt began to retrieve objects from the hole.

  “What have you got there?”

  Von Brandt turned around to see Jez holding a shotgun straight at him.

  “Riches beyond your wildest dreams,” smiled von Brandt menacingly. He tipped a handful of diamonds into his left hand and looked up to gauge Jez’s reaction. Predictably, Jez’s eyes widened greedily, as he saw the gems sparkle in von Brandt’s hand. Jez was also a little perturbed at von Brandt’s reaction, or lack of it, to having a weapon pointed at him. Von Brandt started moving closer to him, and when he was ten feet away, Jez reacted.

  “Don’t come any closer boy. I don’t know what’s going on here, but I don’t like it.”

  Von Brandt stopped and placed the bag of diamonds on the sand.

  “You know Jez,” he mused in an almost absent-minded fashion, “it’s easy to point a gun at someone, but are you prepared to pull the trigger?”

  “I have killed many people,” continued von Brandt starting to move forwards again, “men, women, children even. You see, to get these diamonds, you’re going to have to kill me.”

  “What makes you think I want them?” asked Jez nervously. He may have been holding the gun, but he wasn’t sure whether it was him who was in control of the situation.

  “The expression on your face when you saw them – there was no hiding it,” grinned von Brandt, “like most people, you are motivated by greed.”

  Von Brandt suddenly looked to his left, his enhanced senses could hear Curtis approaching some distance away. Jez looked in the same direction as a natural reaction and in that moment von Brandt rushed him and wrestled the gun from his hands. Without hesitation, von Brandt swung the rifle butt and hit Jez hard on the right cheek. He dropped to the ground, knocked senseless. Von Brandt moved quickly to the truck and waited for Curtis to appear. Eventually Curtis walked past, rifle levelled, ready to react if necessary.

  “Don’t turn around, and drop the rifle,” shouted von Brandt.

  The young man swung round, pointing the gun at von Brandt, who without hesitation gave him both barrels. The blast hit Curtis square in the chest, lifted him off his feet and he fell on his back – dead before he hit the ground.

  Von Brandt walked over to the lifeless body and prodded its shoulder with the gun barrel, then turned his attention to Jez over to his left, who had started to groan. He picked Jez up by the collar and dragged him over to the hole that he had just dug. Jez, still a little groggy, was beginning to regain his senses and watched von Brandt open the box, pick an object up and walk back to him. He propped Jez up and brandished the ampule in front of him.

  “Do you know what this is?” asked von Brandt rhetorically.

  Jez could see a clear liquid twinkling in the sunlight.

  “This ampule,” continued von Brandt, “is one of the wonders of the universe. It has the power to administer prolonged life or instant death. It just depends on how much you take. You see, it is possible to have too much of a good thing.”

  With that, he snapped off the neck of the ampule and poured the entire contents into Jez’s mouth. The liquid was odourless and tasteless and he assumed Gary had just plied him with water. A few minutes later Jez suddenly became completely conscious that he felt fantastic; the best he had felt in years. The dull ache in his lower back which had plagued him for some time had completely disappeared. What had Gary given him? Standing up, Jez felt as though he could take on the world, then suddenly he grabbed his stomach, bent forwards, slumped to his knees and began to shake uncontrollably, keeling over onto his side. The shaking fit continued for about thirty seconds, then stopped abruptly. A disgusting foul-smelling thick brown ooze poured out of his mouth and onto the sand. Jez’s wide eyes stared lifelessly at von Brandt, who walked away in disgust.

  Von Brandt sighed, more out of annoyance at these inconveniences, picked up the spade and started to dig a grave large enough for two bodies. By the time he stepped up into the truck, the sun was getting low in the sky. He turned the key and began to move off. Glad that very soon he would be travelling under the cover of darkness.

  ***

  Getting to grips with the controls of the crane proved tricky, but eventually von Brandt got the hang of them and manoeuvred the Glocke into position in a corner of the warehouse. Satisfied that it was upright and stable, he drove the truck out of the large wooden doors, got out, closed and padlocked them, then climbed back into the cab again. On the dashboard were a packet of Jez’s cigarettes and a lighter. He took one, lit it with a hand still shaking with adrenalin, and inhaled deeply. Von Brandt sat there and reflected on the afternoon’s events. He was rather pleased that Jez had played into his hands. Knowing that he was probably going to have to kill him, the fact that Jez had tried to cross him only made it that much easier. Also, he hoped that Curtis hadn’t told anyone of his activities, though von Brandt thought it unlikely. After all who would want to admit to stalking?

  Eventually he fired up the engine and started to make his way back to Jez’s house. He needed to return the truck to ensure nothing could be traced back to him.

  It was mid-evening when Kimberley heard her father’s truck rumble into the yard. She was in the bath having a well-earned soak, after a busy shift at the bar.

  “Hi Dad, I’m in the tub,” she greeted, on hearing the front door open.

  There was no reply, instead the bathroom door opened and von Brandt showed his face.

  “What are you doing? You can’t come in here. Where’s Dad?” she squealed in panic.

  “I’m afraid he cannot help you,” stated von Brandt, striding over to the bath.

  “No – stop. Help!” screamed Kimberley.

  Without hesitation he had placed his hand on her head and pushed it under the water. Kimberley began to thrash her arms and legs, but von Brandt was too strong for her. Eventually a large bubble rose to the surface and she lay still, her head submerged with wide eyes staring through the water at the ceiling.

  It was unfortunate, b
ut alas necessary, reasoned von Brandt. He had liked Kimberley and this was one of those rare instances when he actually regretted what he had to do. Pouring himself a large Jack Daniels, von Brandt sat down and composed himself.

  He would stay here for the night, and in the early morning drive Kimberley’s Beetle into town and abandon it. Then he would purchase a vehicle of his own and find alternative accommodation.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Beware of False Prophets

  USS Argonaut – South Atlantic

  April 18th 1953

  When Sean Slater was very young, his older brother Liam locked him in a small cupboard in their bedroom and left him there to stew for a few hours. He was extricated when his mother and father, who were outside in the yard, eventually noticed his absence. Assuming he was playing with his older brother, they went looking for him. When they heard Sean banging and shouting to be rescued, his father ran up the stairs and released him from his incarceration and it took quite some time to calm the poor lad down. Since then, Slater had a pathological fear of confined spaces, so it was much to his chagrin, that he found himself lying on a bunk in cramped quarters of a submarine, in the middle of the South Atlantic.

  Saying goodbye to his wife Sara when he went on a mission was always difficult, but it was especially so on this occasion because the day before, she had told him that she was pregnant. As pleasing as the news was to him, he could have done without the distraction. Slater dimmed the lights and closed his eyes, trying to imagine what kind of father he would make. Judging by the amount of time he spent away from home, he suspected a bad one.

  Startled from his rumination by a knock at the door, he looked at the luminous dial on his watch in the darkened room. Twenty-two hundred hours – who was disturbing him at this hour?

  “Come in,” he sighed.

  A seaman opened the door and saluted.

  “We have just surfaced, sir,” stated the sailor sheepishly, sensing Slater’s irritation, “the captain asked if you might like to join him up top.”