Out of Time (The Adventures of Eric and Ursula Book 4)

by A. D. Winch

  Ursula moved to his knees as he raised his leg. She ripped off the plaster first and pulled out some of his hairs and a strip of skin with it. A broken piece of needle fell to the floor and rolled under the chair. Ursula took the two remaining needles and pulled them quickly from his skin. There was no resistance, and the small puncture marks bled a little more.

  "Thank you," said Bill, dropping his leg back fully onto the ground. "Please can you do the same with the ones in my stomach."

  Ursula crawled towards his belly and pulled up his shirt. The tubes coming out of his stomach looked far more dangerous than those in his legs and entered his body. As she brought her face closer to investigate, she smelt urine and excrement and lurched back.

  "It's a catheter and some kind of a colostomy bag," Eric told her. "It means that he doesn't have to go to the toilet. I guess the OSS fitted it to keep him in the chair."

  "Can I remove them?"

  "I don't think it would be a good idea. One goes into his bladder; the other into his bowels."

  Ursula took hold of the tubes and followed them away from the chair and towards the desk. Hanging from hooks behind the computer were two clear plastic bags. She took them off and returned to Bill.

  "Are you sick?" she asked.

  "I don't think so," he stuttered.

  "Can you help him up, Eric?"

  "He's the size of a whale!"

  "I can do it," Bill said, trying to retain some dignity, but he struggled to lift his bulk.

  Eric huffed and reluctantly pulled him up from the shoulders. Once Bill was sitting, Ursula handed him the plastic bags that were attached to the tubes in his stomach.

  "I don't think it is a good idea that I pull them out."

  "You're probably right, but what do I do now?" he asked like a lost child. "I know that I am in this surveillance room, but I honestly don't know where I am."

  He wasn't joking, nor was he lying, or trying to trick them. Both Eric and Ursula could feel that he spoke the truth.

  "You're on a military base in Roswell, New Mexico."

  "Jeez, am I? Can I get off it? And what do I do?"

  Ursula had to think before replying. "You need to see a doctor or nurse. I'm sure that they'll be able to help you with the tubes. If you go out of this room and turn right, you'll be heading towards the infirmary. You may have to ask someone, but I think you'll be able to find it. You should go there."

  Bill Hoover agreed, and with considerable help from Eric and Ursula he stood. Behind the children was darkness and concealed within it was something that frightened him. He wanted to leave quickly, but his legs wouldn't work properly.

  The children helped him walk to the door and gently pushed him into the corridor. Like a baby taking his first steps, Bill Hoover stumbled away from them, using the wall as a support. Eric pulled the door shut angrily.

  "Well, that was a pleasant, good Samaritan moment," Eric said sarcastically, "but that is not why we are here!"

  "We couldn't just leave him," Ursula protested. However, she sensed the possibility of an argument and added, "Come on then! Towards the back, didn't you say?"

  "Not yet."

  Eric stomped away from Ursula and towards the desk. In one sweeping movement, he pushed Hoover's computer off the desk and onto the floor. In a fit of rage and pent up fear, he stamped on it until the screen, keyboard and CPU had broken into pieces. Bits of plastic and circuitry sailed across the floor, and the sound of breaking equipment drowned out the noise of the fans. Ursula watched as Eric picked up the larger pieces and hurled them at the screens covering the wall. Some bounced off, but others left large cracks. When he had exhausted everything that was on the floor, Eric took hold of Bill's chair. He held it above his head and ran at the largest screen, hurling it as hard as he could. The chair smashed into the display and rained glass down onto Eric. Sparks lit up the darkness and reminded Ursula of small fireworks. From inside the screen, they could hear a hissing noise, and smoke began to seep from the hole. All the displays began to flash on and off as the power to them became sporadic.

  Eric stepped back towards Ursula and admired his work. In the flickering light from the screen, she could see that he looked triumphant, and she could sense that he was back in control of his feelings. Even so, Ursula worried about what would happen next. Her fear was suddenly realized, as they were plunged into complete darkness. The room was pitch black except for an orange glow from inside the screen that Eric had thrown the chair at.

  "I hope it is still here," Ursula said pointedly. "And you haven't frightened it off."

  "It is," Eric said. "You and I both know that."

  Ursula focused on whatever may be in the room, and she realized that Eric was right.

  "It wants us to come. It is waiting for us. It has always been waiting for us," he told her.

  "You can't say 'always,' Eric."

  "That's what I feel. It's as if it knows we are coming."

  Ursula tried to focus on what Eric was sensing. She could also sense something inevitable in what was about to happen but had no idea what that would be.

  "Right, let's do this," she said and walked away from the burning screens and into the black. Eric followed silently. Now that he was more focused again, he had a bad feeling about Johan.

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  ***

  Chapter 23 - Fight to the End

  Agent Angel put the phone down and looked at the scrunched up heap of a man lying on his floor. He walked around the desk, past the scattered chairs where they had been sitting and stood at Schwarzkopf's feet. A pair of oval-rimmed glasses lay on the floor, and Agent Angel made a point of crushing them under his boot.

  There was a large, dark red puddle around Schwarzkopf's head that resembled a nightmarish halo. The cut above his right eye had coated his forehead in blood and matted together his few remaining black hairs. The broken nose had splattered blood over his cheeks and down to his chin. It was not obvious to see, but he was still alive. Small bubbles of blood rippled over his lips as he breathed weakly.

  Once, a long time ago, Buddy had regarded John as a friend. They had shared a passion to change the world for the better, but old age had deluded the scientist. Even though he hated to admit it, Buddy was now the confused man. To kill a faceless enemy or to kill or be killed, was one thing. To kill an unarmed, former friend lying at his feet was another matter.

  As he stared, Schwarzkopf convulsed, and his body shook. He bent into the foetal position, opened his mouth and vomited both bile and blood. A coughing fit followed this and more blood was brought up. Buddy looked down and felt repulsed that after one small fight old age could make a body so helpless and feeble.

  The coughing subsided, and Johan turned onto his back. He opened his sticky eyes and looked at Buddy without fear. They held each other's gaze, neither sure what to do next.

  Finally, Johan broke the silence, and gurgled. "I am not scared of death, Buddy. But I am scared of a long, painful, drawn-out death."

  Agent Angel moved until he was level with Johan's waist so he could hear him clearer, but he said nothing.

  "I am dying, Buddy. I have lung cancer. I would rather die here and now than watch my body wither away until nothing remains but my mind."

  "After the trouble you've caused me, you deserve a long, painful death! You can have it in one of our cells. We'll feed you and water you, but otherwise we'll leave you to your fate."

  "I always knew you were kind," Johan replied and began to laugh. As he did so, he tilted his body towards Agent Angel and with the very last of his energy made a grab for his feet.

  Schwarzkopf's speed was unexpected, and before Agent Angel knew what was happening the old scientist's arms were wrapped around his ankles. He tried to pull a boot out of the hold but as he did so, his feet were yanked towards the dying man.

  Agent Angel needed to put out his arm to balance himself, but the bullet had smashed his shoulder, and he could not lift it. As if in slow motion, he fell towards
the glass covered floor. He put out his good arm to cushion the fall, but it slid in the bourbon and did nothing to protect him. His legs, then lower back hit the concrete hard, and as they did so, the momentum whipped back his head. A large shard of glass from the base of the bottle waited menacingly for him and passed through his neck with little resistance.

  Agent Angel's massive bulk shook as the vibrations from the fall passed through his body. Once they had subsided, he did not move. He did not cry out in pain. He did not moan. Agent Angel was dead.

  Johan looked across at the lifeless body but felt no happiness at completing the task he had set himself. He had no more energy, and he felt oddly calm. No longer did he have to worry about what to eat or drink or wear or where to go or what to say to people or what to do with his time or his ailing health. In spite of the painful ache in his head and the feeling of cold that was gradually spreading through his body, he felt at peace and closed his eyes.

  He was vaguely aware of someone entering the room but did not care to find out who it was. Only when a warm hand took his wrist to take his pulse did he feel the need to show that he was not yet dead and opened his eyes. Professor Khan sat next him looking horrified.

  "You're alive," she stuttered in shock.

  Johan only smiled.

  "I'll get you to the infirmary."

  He shook his head slowly but continued to smile.

  "Come closer," he whispered so quietly that she could hardly hear.

  She bent over him and put her ear to his mouth.

  "Eric and Ursula are dying. The key to saving them is in the alien. It will be an enzyme in its saliva. Find it, isolate it and give it to them. They will survive if you do this." He coughed, and blood dribbled from the corner of his mouth. He spoke again, but each word was a struggle to get out. "On my ankle is a tracking device. Put it on and leave the base. You must go. When my son, Alexander, finds you, he won't trust you. But the children will vouch for you." He stopped, closed his eyes and smiled. "Tell Alexander to live his own life and I regret that he and I never got to know each other. I believe that I would have grown to love him."

  Professor Khan stopped feeling Johan's breath on her ear and sat back up. She tried to find a pulse but knew there wouldn't be one. Without waiting any longer, she followed his instructions and left.

  A few minutes after she had gone, there was a knock at the door, and Jean Kurtz marched in. She hesitated when she saw the murderous scene but made no attempt to approach either of the victims. As far as she was concerned, they were either dead or would be soon. An opportunity had presented itself that she would not pass up. Sidestepping the blood, she sat at Agent Angel's desk and removed a flash drive from her pocket. She placed it into his computer and set about copying all his files onto the small memory stick. While this ran, she searched through drawers and shelves to see if there was anything else that could benefit her. Once the files had been transferred, she pulled out the flash drive and marched back out of the room with her head held high and one hand on her stomach.

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  ***

  Chapter 24 - A Meeting of Minds

  Even though Eric and Ursula could see nothing in the darkness, they knew where they were going. They did not know how, but they knew. Behind them, flames were starting to emerge from a hole in one of the screens, and the smell of smoke was becoming more noticeable.

  They were close. They could both feel it. The black enveloped them, and they could only just see each other. Suddenly they stopped. Something terrible had happened. They both felt it, but before they were able to discover more, something entered both their heads. Eric knew what it was the moment that it happened. He felt something pushing back his thoughts and his memories flashed like a strobe light in his mind. This time, he knew how to fight it and immediately concentrated on a happy memory. After the summer he had experienced, this was not difficult. The only problem was choosing which memory. In less than a second, he pictured himself falling from the plane and flying down towards the bay at Parga. He could see the blue sea and the holiday makers looking up at him, wondering what he was going to do next. He kept these thoughts repeating in his head and knew that he was already an equal match for his attacker.

  Ursula took a moment to understand what was going on, but it was a moment too long. She lost control, and her memories were instantly flashing backwards in time. The speed of the changes was something she had never experienced. Before she could understand what she was seeing, the memory was gone. She began to feel dizzy and sick as if she was on a roller-coaster that she could never get off, and then the flashing memories stopped. She saw herself in her bed. Eric was asleep at the other end, and she was in mental pain. The memory of discovering that her grandparents were not related to her began to play.

  Even though, this was all in the past. Even though, she had moved on. Even though, it didn't mean anything to her anymore, the memory began to bring her down. Doubt, confusion, sadness and pain took hold. The memory repeated, and her negative feelings were amplified. Ursula was no longer in control.

  The attack on Eric's mind was getting weaker. He pushed against it and as he pushed he felt it weakening further. This time he would fight back without anyone to protect his attacker. He regained control of his mind and continued to push. He was on the cusp of a mental wormhole. As he pushed on, there was a blinding white light, and he was out of his mind and re-living memories of things that he had never experienced.

  It was the same memory as he had seen before. The sky was blue; the sun was shining, and he was shooting high across the ground at unbelievable speeds. The craft he found himself in was joined to his mind so that every thought became a movement. He could see all around himself in every direction, as if he was inside a three hundred and sixty-degree cinema.

  A movement below the craft caught his eye, and he looked down onto a small town. Old cars that looked like toys drove slowly around the blocks but within a second he had passed over them. He was now over a desert, and the earth was baked hard and barren. The land was made up of rocks, sand and little else. Pathetic looking bushes, barely green in colour, were scattered around the sun-cracked earth. Rugged mountains rose up around him as he shot past. Rivers, if they had not dried up, trickled rather than flowed. Below him, the sun suddenly reflected off something that was moving at the same unbelievable speed. He knew he had to get away but where to.

  He looked behind him and saw the sun reflected off two shiny spots in the sky. Suddenly, there was a massive jolt, and he began to glide towards the ground. Debris rained down around him. He was struggling to stay conscious as the Earth came nearer. The craft landed on its side and skidded across the desert. It suddenly dropped and immediately stopped, throwing him forward. A small entrance opened in the craft's body, and light streamed in. He tried to stumble out, but something he was pulling was too cumbersome, and as he reached the entrance, he blacked out.

  In front of him stood a human boy. The human boy was about to break the connection to save the human girl, and then it would begin again.

  In spite of the surrounding darkness, Eric could see himself clearly. Half of his hair had turned white, and the image was so clear that he could see new wrinkles around his eyes and mouth. He turned from looking at himself towards Ursula, who lay crippled on the ground. She was laying in the foetal position. Tears flowed from her eyes; saliva dripped from her mouth and every few seconds she would convulse terribly. Her hair was almost completely grey, and she had more wrinkles also.

  Eric withdrew into his mind. He broke the connection and was back in the surveillance room. He could see very little. Orange flames were dancing from the screens behind him, and smoke had filled the room. A shadow moved in front of him. It swayed from side to side as if waiting for the right moment to do something and then darted away. As soon as it was out of sight, Ursula sat up.

  "Are you okay?" Eric asked, bending down to help her up.

  "I don't know. What happened?" she asked genui
nely.

  Smoke entered their lungs, and they began to cough.

  "You don't remember anything?"

  "Nothing," she replied, wiping away saliva from her chin. "Where has it gone?"

  They both coughed again as the smoke thickened. The room was warming up from the heat of the flames, and they both knew that they had to get out fast.

  "It's going back to its craft," Eric said when he got his breath back.

  A large shadow grew on a wall near to the flames, and both children saw it.

  "What's it doing?"

  "It's going to use the air ducts to get to the hangar."

  As they watched, the shadow shrunk and climbed up the wall. It vanished behind a duct on the ceiling. They could hear tapping as it entered the wide metal channel and fled.

  "It is big enough for you to get in and follow, but I can't go in there," Eric said quietly. "I'll freak out."

  "I'll meet you by the UFOs then," Ursula replied and ran towards the wall.

  A strip of cables, no wider than her hand, hung down from the high ceiling and were secured to the wall with metal clasps. Ursula gave the cables a sharp tug. Nothing fell, so she began to climb. She reached the top quickly, but the smoke was much worse. Breathing was difficult, and she could not see far ahead. Below her, a large white beam of light pierced the darkness and the smoke. She could just make out Eric's silhouette as he ran out of the room.

  The light was enough to see an entrance under one of the ducts that was sucking up smoke from the room. Ursula searched for a way to get to it but could not see one. She would not be able to climb across the metal channel to reach it. The duct was rectangular in shape, and the metal was too smooth to grasp. She looked above it and noticed that the duct was secured to the ceiling using large clips. If she could grab hold of one of these, then she had a chance. It was her only option. The clip she was aiming for was a three-metre leap from the wall, and she knew that if she fell, then she wouldn't be getting back up again.