The Black Tower: The Complete Series

by David R. Beshears

  Quinn, Costa and Dr. Church stood around a table in middle the room, the chairs pushed aside. All three were staring down at the map.

  “The rate at which our universe is collapsing in on itself appears to be accelerating,” said Church.

  Costa sucked in a shallow breath. “As Doctor Owen would say… holy crap.”

  “Yes. Well.” Church rested a fingertip on the map. “The axis of the collapse is right here.”

  “The park,” said Quinn.

  “None other.”

  Scraping and thumping sounds came from the door and Ramos pushed his way through, cardboard box in hand. Lisa was right behind him with a second box.

  “A few things, Lieutenant,” said Ramos. “Nothing to write home about, but I couldn’t just leave the stuff.”

  “Yes, that’s fine.” Quinn absently waved a hand in the general direction of the booths without looking up from the map.

  “I recommend we move home base to the park as soon as possible,” said Church.

  “How much time do you estimate?”

  “A day, half a day; maybe less. Moving to the park buys us something.”

  “Very well.” Quinn spoke then to everyone in the café. “Gather your gear, back here in fifteen. We move out in twenty with what supplies we can carry.”

  Church looked up from map, surveyed the café. “Where’s Susan? And Peter?”

  “Not back yet.” Costa looked questioningly to Quinn. “Northwest Quadrant?”

  “You take charge here,” said Quinn. “I’ll go find them. If I’m not back, we’ll meet at the park.”

  “Yes sir.” Costa made ready to head to the house and collect her gear. She looked again at the map. “Doctor Church, we set up shop at the park, okay… we buy ourselves a little time; then what?”

  “The portal must be there,” Church stated calmly.

  “I’ve spent more time there than here, Doctor,” said Quinn. He was also making ready to head out. “There’s no portal there.”

  “Either you are wrong, Lieutenant, or our situation will quickly become increasingly uncomfortable.”

  §

  Asher and Susan hurried down the middle of the street. Several blocks behind them rose up a silvery-white wall of empty space.

  They stepped up onto the sidewalk just outside the bookstore. Susan came to a sudden halt.

  “Peter? Peter, look.” She was looking through the window.

  Asher stood beside her, saw what she saw.

  There was a man inside, standing at the register in the act of making a purchase. Behind the counter was the cashier.

  “It’s the guy from the pawn shop, right?” Susan turned as if to walk the three doors down to the pawn shop.

  But the pawn shop was no longer three doors down. It was now right next door.

  “Oh my,” sighed Susan. “It’s getting very peculiar out here.”

  “You’re right about the guy.”

  The resident who had been standing at the pawn shop door was now buying a book in the bookstore that was now right next door.

  Up the street behind them, the edge of the world crept ever closer, buildings on either side of the road slowly dissolving, becoming part of the nothing.

  Asher took Susan’s hand, pulled her along as he started again down the street.

  “We better get back while there’s still a back to get to.”

  §

  Ramos and Costa were moving back and forth between the boxes stacked in the booths and the backpacks sitting on the tables in the middle of the café. They were scrounging through the supplies and stuffing what they could into the packs.

  Church and Lisa came in, Church looking quickly about.

  “The lieutenant hasn’t returned?” He sounded anxious. “Susan? Peter?”

  “Not yet, Doctor,” said Costa. She took one of the two packs that Church was carrying. “This is Dr. Bautista’s?”

  “Yes, yes,” Church mumbled distantly.

  “I’ll pack it up.” Costa indicated the boxes scattered about. “Gather what you can. We’re out in five.”

  “But Susan—”

  “They’ll meet us at the park. Quickly now, Doctor.”

  “I’ll not leave without Susan.” Church was near to pleading.

  “Doctor,” Costa stated forcefully. “I’ll be carrying three backpacks as it is. I’ll carry you as well, if I have to, but it’ll really slow me down.”

  Church took a moment to consider the sincerity of the sergeant’s words. He reached out then and took back Susan’s backpack.

  “You’ll have your hands full with the lieutenant’s pack. I’ll take care of Susan’s.”

  §

  Quinn turned a corner, followed the narrow side-street for a block and then turned again. He knew from his maps that this should take him right into the heart of the northwest quadrant.

  The world sounded strangely hollow. There had always been an emptiness about the place, but this was different. It was more… the absence of sound. It was as if sound itself was being drawn into some void. Even his footsteps were muffled.

  There was movement up ahead. After another dozen steps, he saw the movement as two figures coming toward them. They were moving quickly, at a quick walk at least. He soon recognized Asher and Dr. Bautista. No more than a few hundred yards behind them was a great wall of white.

  “Professor, Doctor Bautista,” Quinn said. “I am very glad to see you. We must hurry. Time is quite short.”

  “No argument, Lieutenant,” said Asher. “We are real fast running out of world back there.”

  “So I see,” said Quinn. He turned and started away at a quickening pace. “We won’t make the café. We’ll meet the others at the park.”

  Their fast walk turned into a steady jog as Quinn led them down first one side street and then a second, bringing them quickly to a larger avenue that he knew should take them to the vicinity of their neighborhood park.

  The occasional glance back showed him that the white wall was following.

  He recognized the intersection up ahead. The cross-street should take them the rest of the way to the park. He was about to say so when he saw a figure run into the intersection and continue across. This was followed by another and then another.

  It was the rest of the team. The first figure returned and waited.

  “Good to see you, sir,” said Costa. She handed him his backpack.

  Church was right behind her. “Susan, my dear!” He gave her a hug.

  “Time for that later,” urged Quinn, then a mumbled “I hope” as he slipped into his pack.

  “Yes, yes. Of course,” Church said hurriedly, grinning broadly. Still holding Susan’s backpack in place across one shoulder, he took Susan’s hand in his own. “Let us be off.”

  §

  Owen stood in the middle of the park. She turned slowly about, but saw nothing out of the ordinary.

  She hadn’t come here of her own accord. Something had brought her here. She assumed there had to be a reason. She turned about again, looking for some indication as to what that reason might be.

  There were several benches scattered around the park. There was a picnic table. Over in one corner was a small playground with a swing set, climbing bars, teeter-totter, and a small, metal merry-go-round. The park was bordered on three sides by fir trees; a narrow street ran along the fourth side.

  She looked over at the little playground. Was that here before? Owen had only been to the park once. She knew that Quinn liked to work on his maps here.

  She looked closely at the playground. There was a little boy sitting in one of the swings. He hadn’t been there a moment ago. He was looking right at her. She was sure of it. He wasn’t moving, but he was looking right at her.

  The little merry-go-round was turning. Slow, steady. She thought she could hear the screech of metal on metal as the six-foot diameter base plate spun slowly about on its central axis.

  She started across the park, approached the playground. S
he stepped up onto the heavy timber that bordered the yard and then out onto the sand. She looked to her left, to the little boy in the swing. He was holding onto the chains with both hands. And he was looking at her. She hadn’t seen him move, but his head was turned now and he was looking at her.

  She forced herself to look away, looked to the merry-go-round. A simple metal platform with four waist-high handrails. It was still turning. Slow, steady. There was a faint screech, pause, screech, pause…

  §

  The team turned up the side-street, coming out of the main thoroughfare that held the café and across from the street they had taken to calling “The Neighborhood”. To their left was the park. Asher, second in line behind Costa, could tell immediately that something was different.

  There was something in the far corner of the park. From this distance, it looked like a children’s playground.

  “That’s new,” said Ramos as they stepped off the street and started across the lawn.

  “I believe it is,” said Asher.

  As they got closer, Asher was able to make out the figure of a small boy sitting in one of the swings. From here it looked like he was staring right at them.

  “Do you hear that?” asked Ramos.

  Nothing at first, but then Asher thought he could hear a metallic screeching sound. It seemed to be coming from the playground. They continued to draw closer. There was a small merry-go-round just to the right of the swing-set. It was turning.

  And then… just a shimmer at first, but then something began to take form, to take shape near the merry-go-round.

  “Elizabeth,” Asher whispered. He spoke louder then to the group. “It’s Doctor Owen.”

  Owen was waving at them. She was near frantic. Quickly, quickly. Hurry, hurry…

  Asher picked up the pace, stepped up beside Costa.

  “Come on,” he said. His walk became a jog. Costa started then, and then the others picked up the pace just to keep up.

  Asher took a glance behind them. The world was disappearing. The houses across the street were gone. Beyond was a silvery-gray void.

  Owen was indicating the slowly turning merry-go-round.

  screech, pause, screech, pause…

  Asher and Costa stopped beside it.

  “Professor?” asked Costa.

  “It sure looks that way.” He held out a hand. “I suggest you lead the way, Sara.”

  Elizabeth Owen was pointing directly into the center of the merry-go-round. She looked at Asher, at Costa, and then pointed again, sharply.

  The others were right behind them. Quinn was studying the children’s ride, while the others were focused more on the specter of Elizabeth Owen.

  “Doctor Owen?” Lisa asked. Owen gave her a sympathetic smile, then indicated the ride.

  Quinn spoke matter-of-factly, with a hint of urgency. “After you, Sergeant Costa.”

  “Yes sir.” Costa stepped up onto the small ride, maneuvered between the raised handrails and stepped assuredly into the very center.

  A thousand tiny sparkles enveloped her, swirled about her in a cloud, and then she was gone.

  The others followed one by one, stepping up onto the turning ride, maneuvering between the rails and moving into the center. One by one, they were enveloped by the cloud and disappeared.

  On the other side of the park, the silvery-gray wall of nothing began to creep across the lawn.

  “Quickly, Dr. Church,” Quinn urged. “No time to waste.”

  Church nodded silent agreement, turned to Owen and bowed his head in a silent thank you. Owen smiled, then frowned and shrugged one shoulder.

  Church stepped up onto the ride, moved into the center and was quickly enveloped by the shimmering ice-colored cloud.

  Quinn offered Owen a quick, curt nod and followed the others to the next floor.

  §

  Major Connelly found Banister and Lake over near the tower, at the bench where the door into the structure had once been located. They had taken a liking to the spot.

  They looked up from their papers at her approach.

  “Good afternoon, Major,” said Banister, hesitantly. There was something about her manner. Something was up. “Is everything all right?”

  “I wanted to let you know that they’ve left twenty seven.” She didn’t sound as pleased by her own news as she might.

  Lake remained seated, clutching his papers.

  Banister stood up slowly. “Are they okay?”

  “They all made it through just fine. Doctor Owen was there, she watched them go.”

  Major Connelly hadn’t answered the question.

  “Major?” There was concern in Banister’s voice.

  “I’m sure they’re fine, Doctor Banister. I wouldn’t worry just yet.” This, despite her own worried expression.

  Lake stood now. “What happened?”

  “Yes, Major,” urged Banister. “What happened?”

  “I’m sure that it’s nothing; just that… well, Doctor Owen hasn’t been able to find them.”

  “What?”

  “I am as perplexed as you.”

  Lake looked confused. “I doubt that. How could she lose them? Doesn’t she just will herself to wherever they are and there she is?”

  “It’s not that simple, Doctor. She has no real power of her own. However,” she conceded, “I do agree that is generally the end result.”

  “But not this time,” stated Banister. It was not a question.

  “She followed them to the next floor, but they had already moved on.”

  “So quickly? It couldn’t have taken Liz that long to get there.”

  “A few hours at most. I asked her that very question.”

  “Is she certain they actually left the next floor?” asked Lake. “Is it possible they are still there?”

  “She was quite sure they had moved on. They arrived and then left.”

  “Why doesn’t she just follow them on to the next?”

  And in that question lay Major Connelly’s apprehension; the cause for the disquiet that Banister had seen in her manner.

  Owen had attempted to continue after the team. There had been no sign. Unfortunately, she could not be certain that she was in fact travelling the same path they had taken. Was she even going to the same floors? Was she even in the tower?

  The Adversary could be sending her anywhere.

  And now… there had been no word from Dr. Owen for some time.

  “That may well be good news,” suggested Banister. “Perhaps she finally found them, is with them now, observing.”

  Connelly looked doubtful. “I do hope you are right, Doctor.”

  “Here I am attempting to calm your fears, when you were so concerned with mine.”

  “I certainly didn’t mean to burden you.”

  “Not at all, Major,” said Banister. He raised a hand and tapped his chin with a knuckle. “There is something else to consider in all of this. You understand, if they are indeed travelling the floors as quickly as you suggest, then they are finally making some real headway.”

  §

  The hint of a whispering wind. A dark, blackened landscape, hot whorls of wispy gray smoke spiraling from burnt pits in the barren ground. The sky above, black as pitch but for the hundreds of small meteors trailing long, thin tails of fire.

  Puffs of brownish black dust billowed up with each muffled footfall as they ran…

  ~ end of episode eight

  Episode Nine

  Storms

  Prolog

  Sgt. Costa kept up the steady pace as she led the team through the woods at a measured run. The world was gray, the air thick with a warm, drifting fog. From above, dull rays of light pushed through the mist and trees.

  She leapt over a fallen, moss-covered tree, dashed left and skirted between two massive ferns. Up ahead then… a gleaming sphere in the center of a large clearing. She came to a sudden stop directly before it, waved the team forward.

  Lisa Powell ran unhesitantly into the
shimmering, ethereal globe and disappeared. Church and Susan followed, but Asher and Ramos stopped and took a moment to catch their breath, using the opportunity to look back behind them.

  There was no sign of Lieutenant Quinn.

  “Go, go, go,” hissed Costa.

  Asher took a last look back the way they had come, turned forward then and stepped into the portal.

  Ramos faltered, reluctant to leave. “Sergeant,” he pleaded.

  “Go,” Costa insisted.

  The corporal glanced back into the woods one last time, desperately willing the lieutenant to make an appearance. The spears of misty rays of light stabbed through the canopy, the fog rolled slowly through the trees.

  And there was a sound; a distant whispering murmur that crept progressively closer; ominous, menacing.

  Swallowing the world…

  “Ramos,” Costa urged quietly, evenly. “We’re done here.”

  §

  Costa led the team along a sandy beach, the calm waves pushing gently up onto the shore. Above the distant horizon, three moons shone against a violet-colored evening sky.

  A few moments peace…

  A sound subtly crept up, little by little overwhelmed the soothing resonance of the soft waves.

  A distant whispering murmur… ominous, menacing…

  Corporal Ramos, bringing up the end of the line, stopped and looked back behind them. He spoke calm and matter-of fact.

  “Here we go again.”

  They picked up the pace, taking it to an easy jog. Behind them, the distant, muffled sound steadily increased, swelling as a rolling, growing physical thing.

  “Uh, Costa…” said Ramos, a bit more concern now.

  She said nothing, but the team’s pace quickened.

  §

  The world was a giant black and white chessboard.

  Costa, Ramos, Asher, Church, Susan Bautista and Lisa each stood on their own square. Large, plastic chess pieces towered above them.

  Costa pointed to an empty square. Asher moved forward, stopped on the indicated position.

  Church looked guardedly toward an unseen horizon somewhere beyond the board. A moment later, Susan followed his gaze.

  “Yes,” she said. “I hear it.”