Will strode boldly towards the shadowy figure, compelled to discover their identity. He felt fearless as a strong impulse of determination and curiosity take control of him. Nothing was going to prevent him from reaching his target, nothing. That was until a soft hand tapped him on the shoulder.
“George?” teased the female voice. “It is George right? Of the Jungle, likes swinging face-first into trees?”
“Hello Miss Paxman,” joked Will. “What brings you here?” he said pleasantly surprised.
“Well, as you know I am passionate about issues on energy,” said the woman.
“Yes, and caning high-profile MP’s,” said Will, as he still scanned around. “I also seem to remember you having a passion for photography.”
“You look like you’ve lost your dog or someone else’s,” observed the young woman.
“I don’t have a dog,” replied Will, as his eyes searched frantically. “I thought I saw… it doesn’t matter!” He now gave the woman his full attention, “I never got your name,” he said.
“I never gave it!” responded the woman.
“What about now?” Will suggested.
“I still haven’t given it,” she teased.
“Will you?” asked Will.
“Maybe!” she said playfully.
“What’ll it take?” negotiated Will.
“Coffee’s a good start!” she enthused.
Will smiled, “I think I can go one better than coffee,” he said encouraged and propositioned her, “How about dinner?’
Pretending to think about it, “Dinner it is,” she smiled. They took each other’s hands and shook formally, “And it’s Maya, Maya Walker.”
He noticed that her grip was firm, yet her hand felt soft, “Will, Will Cox!” he replied. Will was instantly mesmerised by her touch and the warmth between their palms.
“Um, Will?” said Maya.
“Hmmm,” replied Will, lost in thought.
“Can I have my hand back, please?” smiled Maya.
Feeling slightly embarrassed, “Uh sure!” letting go of her hand. “So, dinner it is then?” reiterated Will.
No sooner than they’d confirmed their date, when an enormous sound rumbled through the streets. The shockwaves rippled violently through their bodies and Will tried to catch Maya but they both fell heavily to the ground heavily. Will could see the black smoke swelling from a municipal building, glass and other debris flying everywhere.
Unexpectedly, several masked people appeared and began to damage public properties. They hurled large objects at shop store windows and there was looting. The police now had their hands full, as violent groups began fighting in the streets. Will looked at the chaos and couldn’t help feeling that this was coordinated.
Random skirmishes broke out all over the city centre and soon the riot police had mobilised into action. Although most people had sensibly dispersed from the area, there were still innocent people trying to avoid being mistaken for violent protestors. Amid the furore, Will saw that some of the troublemakers weren’t involving themselves in the trouble but they were directing others. He recognised their distinctive clothing, black military-style jackets bearing the insignia of the Prometheans. Still shaken, he grabbed Maya’s hand and headed in the direction he believed was the safest.
Rubber bullets and gas canisters whistled dangerously through the air, some hitting the ground and some hitting people. Will and Maya had inadvertently separated during the commotion, which had become more frantic and unsafe. Desperately, he looked around for her but through the hostility he managed to find the mysterious figure that had eluded him earlier.
Still hiding in the shadows, he identified the tall and imposing figure, who seemed arrogantly comfortable watching events unfold. Everything stopped like a picture snapped from a camera and as their eyes met. Suddenly, Will bolted after him.
He darted through scattering of people and police, trying not to inhale smoke from the tear gas. Sticking to the sides, the man was agile and quick but Will was quick too and had closed in on him.
“Stop,” demanded Will. He could see that running had taken its toll at the heaving figure. The unidentified man turned around slowly and Will’s stomach bubbled nervously. A vague sense of familiarity shuddered through him as the man’s face became apparent.
“Do I know y’?”
The canister of tear gas was smoking profusely as it thundered against Will’s temple. As the violence and mayhem continued, Will couldn’t help but wonder if this was his time, as he fell everything turned to black.
✽✽✽
Hospitals were often centres of medical hustle and bustle, where doctors and surgeons frantically worked to save lives and Porters urgently pushing gurneys down corridors. This hospital seemed different to Will, as an eerie silence hung in the air. He lifted himself painfully out of bed as curiosity got the better of him. When he opened the door to his room, the slow creaking sounds of oil-deprived hinges moaned. He rolled his eyes and looked up to the heavens.
“Nurse, nurse!” shouted Will.
There was no response or sounds of anybody but for his echoing voice down the corridor. The euphoria of fear tried to overwhelm Will but he rejected it. Some minutes later, he encountered the same man he was chasing in the streets but strangely, he was wearing a white lab coat. He was standing patiently in an adjacent doorway, as if he’d been waiting for Will.
The man started talking to Will but he couldn’t hear his words. He then he began walking aggressively towards Will, who promptly ran-off. Running with a concussion was a new sensation for Will, one that he found disorientating. He crashed through door after door but the man still pursued him, walking not running.
Running down one sterile corridor after the other, Will was uncertain where he was going until one door led to a very familiar setting. He looked up in awe at the inside of spherical dome and recognised the inside of the nuclear power facility.
Workers were scattering in all directions and the crescendo of the sirens combined with the flashing lights made Will’s head throb. He ran through a large room, where had to negotiate falling debris and exploding machinery. As white-hot electrical sparks sprayed in front of him as he used his arm as a shield. Will was desperately trying to find the exit, when suddenly he heard a voice,
“This way,” she urged, “Quick!”
Will tried to cover as much ground as he painfully could manage. There was still explosions and flying wreckage to avoid but he eventually made his way to an exit. Moving through the door, which was ajar, he immediately recognised the same gangway as he had seen several times before.
The door slammed shut behind him and he turned to see Maya standing between him and the exit. Will noted how perfect she looked in her pristine white lab coat, highly polished shoes and unspoilt features. He looked down at himself in disdain at his hospital clothes, which were spectacularly grubby.
“Where to?” said Will.
Maya looked at him silently and pointed, “This is your destiny Will, our destiny!”
Will looked down at the nuclear reactors, which were violently rumbling towards their explosive finale. He was about to turn toward Maya when he felt a shove and then gravity pulling his body downward.
The sensation of falling wasn’t new to Will but as he fell, he could see Maya’s arms still outstretched arms. The explosion belched grotesquely around him and the huge flames consumed him hungrily, once more. The last thing he saw was Maya standing next to the dark-haired man dressed in a white lab coat. Underneath the coat was the distinct clothing bearing the insignia of the Prometheans.
“No, Maya!” Will cried out.
“Are you okay?” asked Maya.
Wide-eyed and confused, Will looked around and saw that he was safe in an Addenbrookes Hospital ward. “Yeah, it was just a stupid dream,” lied Will.
“It sounded like one hell of a dream,” replied Maya concerned. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“No,” said Will thoughtfu
lly. “Not really,”
CHAPTER FOUR
Digging Through Old S***
After hours of laborious research on all issues concerning energy provision and demand, the musty stench of old papers had firmly entrenched itself up Will’s nostrils. He’d taken full advantage of Daley’s consent to access the archives at the Chronicle. For a local newspaper, it had a comprehensive database, which was more than sufficient for Will’s needs.
At some point during that morning, Will’s research had taken a more profound direction when an old newspaper article caught his interest. In March 2001, Satoshima, Japan, an earthquake had combined with a tsunami to devastating effects. The nuclear reactors were damage and the disabled cooling systems released radiation.
Fascinated by this article, Will felt compelled to look for similar disasters. The next one he read involved the Tlilatl Oil Rig in Mexico, which exploded in 2000. An estimated four to five million barrels of oil spilled into the Gulf, causing environmental damage to several ecosystems, which included marine and wildlife.
“Hmm, there was rumours of an outbreak of numerous health problems for residents but this was unconfirmed,” Will said to himself. He looked around when he became aware that he was reading out loudly.
The next story that caught Will’s attention concerned a nuclear disaster in Fyodorgrad, Russia. He immediately sat upright to read the article and remembered hearing when he was in his teens. In February 1993, the meltdown of the nuclear reactors in had killed over sixty workers and released three-hundred times more radiation than Hiroshima.
“With approximately 900,000 deaths, this was, is still considered to be the worst nuclear power disaster in history,” Will murmured to himself. The notion of countless lives being lost needlessly sickened Will to his stomach.
The last story Will looked at, was the one that he considered the most dubious. In 1979, the Ixtoc 1 Oil Platform in the Bay of Campeche, Mexico collapsed due to a mysterious explosion.
“Although it was deemed accidental, around 3.5 million barrels of oil spilled into the Gulf,” whispered Will, again muttering to himself. “The Mexican Gulf again, huh! What are the odds? Twenty-one year’s apart!” he asked out loud.
He gingerly rose to his feet, so that the circulation around his numbed legs could work better. Leaving a scattering of articles and photographs strewn across the floor, he began to walk around slowly. “Could they be connected?” he thought. “How are they connected?
After several scratches of his unshaven chin and a few eye rubs, Will stopped and looked down; something had caught his eye. He suddenly fell to his knees and re-examined all the pictures and press cuttings of each disaster.
“What the hell!” he said, as he found his breadcrumb. In each of the images was a subtly placed graffiti of a logo. It was a hand holding a flame in distinctive red colouring. It was the symbol of the Prometheans.
Will was certain he’d stumbled onto the threads of something bigger but was uncertain of how to proceed. The ramifications of his findings would have far-reaching implications for him that weren’t yet within his understanding.
An unrest plagued Will, as he considered the questions, ‘How could the Prometheans be responsible for all those disasters? How many more were they responsible for? And what yet to come?’ he thought ominously. He looked down at the floor and assumed the likelihood there was more to come.
Feeling tired and hungry after his long spell researching, Will decided to call it quits and began clearing up. Meticulous as Will was, he’d failed to see an old photograph, which had fallen to the floor. It was an old black and white Polaroid, tattered around the edges. He stooped down, picked up the picture and flipped it over.
On the back was an inscription, which he read, “To my dearest friends, Lana and Cam, from Nate W, GEC 1980.” The picture was from a Global Energy Conference in Washington DC nearly forty years ago but that wasn’t the surprise. The real bombshell happened when Will turned the picture over.
Standing amongst some very important dignitaries from the newly formed International Energy Agency (IEA) was a striking couple whom he instantly recognized. His hands started to tremble, as he found himself staring at his parents, Alannah and Cameron Cox.
When he returned home, a strong drink and the thought of an evening meal with Maya proved a welcome distraction for Will. Minutes later, he’d immersed himself in a hot bath as the scent of eucalyptus and lavender permeated the air. In the background, he could hear the newsflash on his television, where blackouts in cities and towns across Britain and Northern Ireland had occurred.
At first, Will sat up alert and listened intently. Then he heard some of the places affected, such as Bangor, Isle of Man and Blackpool, and became dismissive. Will sank back into the bath, started humming-away happily and ignoring the TV. He’d missed the part where strange electrical disturbances happened just before all the electrical devices cut out.
Maya looked stunning, thought Will when he picked her up that evening. Feeling confident, he paid her the necessary compliments and took the time to imprint her image in his memory. She wore a chic lace dress, which dropped above the knees and fashionable ankle-boots that made her appearance classy. Will looked up to the skies in gratitude and praised his good fortune.
The chemistry between Maya and Will was unmistakably electric as they both relaxed in each other’s company. The conversation was light-hearted and fun, even the traumatic events from the demonstration was out of bounds. They communicated their more intimate feelings exclusively through eye contact and warm physical touches. The journey home was a blur, as Maya and Will were content to share their cab locked in a romantic embrace.
The cab stopped outside Maya’s apartment, “Well, this is me!” She looked at Will and kissed him passionately, “Thanks for dinner, I had a great evening.”
He looked into her eyes, “Me too! I particularly liked the ending,” he beamed as he returned her affection.
“Ending?” said Maya, as she smiled alluringly. She kissed Will again, softly on his neck and got out of the cab.
He watched as she walked up the porch, in a manner that emphasized her shape. Maya didn’t look back as she opened the door to her apartment. She walked-in and deliberately left it ajar.
“Well mate?” said the cabbie in a distinctive east London accent.
Still looking at the door, “Well, obviously I’m going in,” said Will resolutely.
“Na mate, the fare?” replied the cabbie.
“Oh! How much?” asked Will.
“Eighteen-fifty,” smiled the cabbie.
“Let’s call it an even twenty, thanks buddy!” he gave the money to the driver and headed towards Maya’s apartment.
“Cheers guvnor. Av fun!” grinned the cabbie.
The next morning was a first for Will. For the first time in ages, there was no waking up screaming and no waking up drenched in sweat. He looked over at Maya and felt good about himself, about them. After sharing some more intimate moments, they showered and dressed before Maya dropped Will off at his apartment. Later at the RC, he would introduce Maya to his friends Adam and Ally.
During the day, Will sought out Professor McDonald because he wanted to discuss aspects of his energy research. He didn’t disclose any familial connections nor did he mention any of his knowledge and suspicions about the Prometheans.
Will steered the discussion specifically towards energy disasters in order to elicit the professor’s insight. ‘The Prof’s got a broader understanding of the global political issues around energy. Hopefully, he’ll be able to shed some light on it,’ thought Will.
He charmed the professors’ opinion about the nature of energy issue, particularly about renewable and non-renewable fuel sources before surreptitiously moving on to energy disasters. All the while, Will felt he was playing conversational poker and the professor knew all the cards on the table.
Afterwards, the Professor reassured Will about the progress of his work and encouraged him to pull
all his theories together in a logical manner and they’d discuss it again. Will walked out of the Professor’s office unsure of who helped whom.
During the late afternoon, Will had returned to his flat. Adam was furiously grappling with the Wii controls and already into his second Budweiser. As Will sipped through bottle number one, he eventually decided to e-mail his findings to the Professor.
Curious to see what the professor would make of his theories, he only e-mailed specific information about the Promethean organisation. By the time Will had finished, he was guzzling bottle number two and waiting for a reply.
Minutes went by before the e-mail sent. When Will noticed that his wi-fi was unusually slow, he chastised his broadband. After several tedious minutes of watching the data buffering, the screen flashed weirdly and then the e-mail sent.
Will walked into to the living room and saw Adam still waving the nunchuck around erratically. Adam looked over and saw the frustration etched on his face, “What’s up?” he asked.
“Computer’s screwing around,” sighed Will.
“Maybe it’s had its time,” said Adam frankly.
“It’s relatively new Ads,” bemoaned Will. “It’s nowhere near its time.”
“Give it a chance! If it’s playing-up tomorrow you can call the plumbers,” grinned Adam.
“Hilarious!” laughed Will. “The plumbers,” Will repeated, as he grabbed his jacket and keys. “You slay me! Let’s go!”
“We off?” asked Adam cheerily.
“Yep!” enthused Will. “All work and no play…”
“…makes Jack a very sober sod,” Adam finished.
✽✽✽
As Will and Adam headed down the street, they were completely unaware of their audience. The two men remained motionless as they watched from their black SUV. Parked covertly behind several cars, they’d been sitting in the darkness, between the lampposts for hours. Both men were remarkably proficient at their jobs and had waited quietly for hours, diligently observing their target. For all intent and purposes, they were ghosts and it was time for these ghosts to do go to work.
Promethean Shadows Page 3
