The Dreamer Chronicles Trilogy Boxed Set Vol I - III: A Sci-Fi Parallel Universe Adventure (The Dreamer Chronicles - Science Fiction For Kids And Adults)

by Robert Scanlon

  “You’d better look more careful where you go,” Davo said and then narrowing his eyes, “and wotchoo doin’ round here anyway? You don’ live round here.”

  “Ah yes, I was um, just testing this new board, of course I’m making these new ones for you for Thurs—”

  “It don’t look new,” Davo said, scratching his head. He bent down and picked up a white baseball cap that had fallen off in the crash and pulled it back on, twisting it around so it was on backwards.

  “Well this is my test board and …” Nathan trailed off and stared at the cap. A vague image drifted across his mind. A red ‘S’. Who had said that? That’s right—Sarina’s friend Georgia said she’d seen Sarina taken away in an ambulance with a large red ‘S’ painted on the side. And there it was on the back of Davo’s cap, now facing Nathan. A large, red capital ‘S’ inside a red circle.

  “What you starin’ at?” Davo said, pushing his face into Nathan’s.

  Nathan shook his head in disbelief. The kid thought he was having a go at him. He pointed up at the cap. “Where’d you get that cap?”

  “You carnavit. Me mum gave it me. It’s from her work.”

  “I don’t want it, I just wanted to know—hold on, did you say your mother gave it to you?”

  “Yeah, why, what’s it to you?”

  “And she’s at the loony bin?”

  “Me muvver only works there, she’s not locked up,” Davo said, sounding a little miffed.

  “Yeah, yeah, I know. So the cap is from the loony bin—” Nathan snatched the cap from Davo’s head and whipped it around to see the front. “Stratford Mental Health Institute. ‘We Help You Get A Head’,” he muttered, “I should have known.”

  “Hey! Gimme back me cap!” Davo said, wrenching the cap back from Nathan.

  Nathan stood back and stared at the boy. “Where is it. Stratford. Where is it. Tell me now.”

  Davo leered at Nathan. “No.”

  Exasperated, Nathan wondered if being more polite would work, then realised what a mistake that was as soon as the words left his lips. “Please? I need to know.”

  A smirk spread across Davo’s face. “Tell you what. You make my board better than all the uvvers and I’ll tell you where Stratford is. When you give me the board.” He crossed his arms and smirked more.

  One day, Nathan thought, someone, not me, will wipe that smirk away and it won’t be pretty. He cleared his throat. “Ah, you’ll tell me NOW,” he remembered scowl-face and scowled at Davo, “or I will tell Old Smythe I saw you cheating in that maths test.”

  The boy went red. “Did not. Anyway, Stratford’s on the edge of the other side of town, past the Westbury Estate on the main road and almost in the countryside. Can’t miss it. High walls and security guards an’ that.” He grinned. “And loonies. Got friends there have you?”

  “None of your business,” Nathan said, still scowling at the boy and wondering if this was how scowls became permanent, and he stepped back on to his board. “Thanks. I won’t say a word, promise.” He started skating off.

  “You better make sure my board is better than the uvvers,” the boy yelled, “or I’ll mention to Forrester that you weren’t at school.”

  Nathan turned as he raced away and shouted back. “Then you might have to explain why you weren’t at school seeing me not at school.”

  The boy closed his mouth, nonplussed.

  Nathan shook his head. Mental giants. Now he had to focus on a bigger problem. How to extricate Sarina from a High Security Mental Asylum where she was being—

  Actually that was a point. Being what? What were they doing with her?

  Why had they taken her there? Was she really insane? As the thoughts crossed his mind, it occurred to him that if he told anyone he was skipping school to deliver a message from a boy in his dream to a girl in his class and it had something to do with men dying, a giant bird-man he’d been drawing and a guy with a weird name, then maybe he’d be the one they’d lock up.

  He shrugged it off. His nose for crazy things that might be possible told him that this was big.

  How big? He would soon find out.

  But first he’d have to swing back past home and pick up some things he’d need if the new plan that was forming in his head was going to work. If this was real. Actually, scratch that. If it was real, he owed it to Paolo to make certain this one worked. No ifs this time. He put his head down and sped home, hoping he wouldn’t be spotted.

  Arriving back and this time throwing aside any pretence at hiding, he raced in and up to his bedroom and, rummaging around in his desk, found the things he needed and put them in his satchel.

  He ran back down the stairs, peeked out of the lounge window to make sure the coast was clear, then, holding up yet another freshly grabbed apple from the fruit bowl in the hall—to maintain his cover of course, and secretly wondering how many times he could get away with rushing home for more apples—he zipped out the door and scooted down the road, bent on a successful rescue mission.

  Some thirty minutes later, including a brief delay caused by another brilliant idea and a quick return to the garage for supplies and a swap of skateboard, he passed the Westbury Estate. Skating around the corner from the main road he saw a huge set of wrought-iron gates flanked by a very high stone wall. Davo was right. You couldn’t miss it.

  He came to a halt, breathing hard. On the wall was a large sign with a big red circle with an ‘S’ inside and the words; “Stratford Institute …” But he didn’t finish reading, as his eyes were caught by another, smaller sign.

  “Beware Guard Dogs,” he read, panting, “just as I thought, a high security loony bin, ferocious dogs and a plan to break out a budding Picasso. She’s just lucky I guessed there would be dogs.”

  He skated past the gates and up ahead he could see the perimeter wall disappear around the corner to the right. When he got there he saw a small lane-way with greenery on each side.

  “Perfect,” he said, and turned into the lane, coming to a stop and sitting down on his board.

  It was time to go to work. He rummaged in his bag for the supplies he had gathered before leaving the house.

  He peered through a crack in the wall. The main building, an imposing four-storey monolith, was set back from the gates a couple of hundred metres. He would need a decent sprint across to get to the main entrance unobserved. Time for a distraction.

  He looked up and down the lane to make sure it was clear, then, leaving his bag and skateboard hidden in the hedge, he jogged quietly further along the lane and around the next corner until he found what he was looking for.

  “Cool,” he whispered, and reached his hand through a small drainage hole at the bottom of the high wall and deposited a small package. He looked at his watch, pressed a button, then sprinted as quietly as possible back to his original position.

  He squatted, hidden in a hedge on the other side of the laneway and back from the wall, and judged the distance and jump needed to make the top. He reckoned that he had two minutes left in which to confirm his calculations, so he moved across to another spot and recalculated the jump. Perfect. Everything worked out, now all he had to do was wait until—

  The dogs started barking. Game on! He left a few more seconds for the distraction to set in and until he could hear voices and shouting. Peering through the crack in the wall, he grinned as he saw guards chasing a pack of dogs, heading away from him and around the corner.

  Nathan backed away from the wall until he was more or less jammed into the hedge, then took a deep breath. He braced himself, looked up at the top of the wall and dashed across the lane, leaping up onto a dead branch he had placed as a boost and jumping as high as he could, scrabbling for the top of the wall.

  Hanging on with his hands, he felt for grip with his feet and scrambled up to the top using the rough edges of the bricks for purchase.

  He found a secure spot where he could hold himself up using his hands and the tips of his toes on some brickwork, and he edged up
to look over the top of the wall. Success! His diversion was working and he could hear the dogs going crazy over the other side of the building. It was time to move.

  He scrambled up and over the top and dropped down onto the grass, and with a quick look around, ran in a straight line to the building’s entrance, where he flattened himself against the wall next to the glass front doors.

  Leaning around and peering in, he could see his good fortune. The burly male nurse at reception was running off to the back of the building, taken in by Nathan’s distraction. Nathan grinned again and ducked into the building.

  He walked over to the reception desk and swung around behind it, dropping down to hide behind the counter as he did so. Lifting up enough to see the desktop behind the counter, he could see the telephone … some pens … the computer screen … where was it … ah, there it was, the entry manifest.

  He pulled it off the counter and sat back down. He’d been betting there would be a written manifest. Once, on a school science field trip to a high-security industrial laser products firm, he had learned that any buildings with security lock-down were required to have a physical manifest showing who was in the building at any one time, including visitors. In the case of a fire evacuation and losing access to the computer system, the manifest would be taken out of the building with the evacuees. The fire rescue service could double-check the document to make sure that everyone was out of the building, and if they weren’t, they would know who to search for inside.

  Much more interesting to Nathan though, was that the manifest was also required to show exactly where in the building everyone was located.

  He ran his finger down the first page—Sarina should be listed near the front, since she would only have been admitted in the last 24 hours. He flipped the page. There she was, listed in room 339 on the third floor.

  He closed the book and placed it carefully back in the same spot, then, spotting a door behind him, he crept over and opened it a crack. Inside he saw the thing he was hoping to find and he crawled in, grabbed it and crawled out, closing the door quietly behind him.

  The foyer was still empty and by the sound of the mayhem outside, his next distraction had come into play. Nathan looked up and down the corridor before emerging from the reception desk and walking along the hall until he found the door to the emergency stairs.

  He ran up as fast as possible, checking his watch. Not long left now, he had to move fast. At each flight he stopped and checked up and down the stairs. Still no-one. Good. He ran up the last flight and stopped at the door marked ‘3’. He opened it a touch to peer up and down.

  No-one was around, so he stepped out, and walked casually down the dimly lit hallway, checking the room numbers. He could see some other people chatting all the way down the other end in an open lounge area—patients he thought—and he hoped the white coat he had ‘borrowed’ from the room behind reception would be sufficient for them to ignore him.

  337 … 338 … 339. He held the handle, aware of the absurdity of his situation. What if she didn’t believe him? What if none of this was actually happening and in fact he was the one who should be locked up. Either way, it would be a pretty interesting story for his grandkids. If he ever got to have any. He shrugged and turning the handle, walked in.

  The room was empty, other than Sarina, who was apparently asleep on the bed. Nathan was taken aback momentarily. He hadn’t planned for the fact that she would be asleep. What on earth was she doing sleeping at this time of day? He was happy to see she was still fully dressed, it would have been embarrassing if it were otherwise.

  He scratched his head thinking furiously—he’d have to wake her up and quickly explain what they needed to do—and before he was discovered. He went to the window and listened. No dogs. Time to be quick.

  He moved over to Sarina and shook her, expecting her to wake. “Sarina,” he whispered, “wake up. It’s me .. I mean, it’s Nathan, your friend fro—ah OK I know I haven’t really been your friend up until now.” He stopped his stumbling explanation. What was he doing? The silly girl wouldn’t wake up. He shook her shoulders harder, but she only gurgled.

  He steeled himself. Would what he was about to do prove his friendship? Probably not. He sighed and slapped her cheek hard.

  Sarina opened her eyes, groggy and gazed at Nathan, her eyes narrowing as she recognised who it was. “Whaaa … ahhh?” She promptly closed her eyes again.

  “Oh boy, this is not going to be pretty.” He slapped her again and this time she blinked her eyes open at once.

  “Huh? Where am I?” She eased herself up, looking very woozy, then swinging her head ponderously back to Nathan and trying to focus on him, she slurred. “Nathaaaan. Wath arrr yoooo doooin heeerrre? ’Ave yooo come to kkkillll meeeeeee?” Her eyes were crossed and her head moved slowly round in circles at him.

  “Kill you? Of course not,” he said, taken aback by the idea, “I’m umm, your rescue squad”

  “Rethcuse? Okaaaay …” and she slumped back onto the bed, eyes open but staring at the ceiling.

  “Sarina!” Nathan shook her shoulders, desperate to wake her, but trying not to raise his voice.

  “We have to get out of here! Paolo needs your help, the townsmen are dying and might all be dead by now and Paolo seems to think you can save the valley and the women and children!”

  “I can?” Sarina rolled her head on the pillow to look at him, puzzled. “How do yooooo know Paaaalllll-owe?” Her crossed-eyes squinted.

  No way was she escaping in this condition. Time for drastic measures. “Listen Sarina, I think you’ve been sedated and I have to wake you up. Be quiet and let me think.”

  Actually he didn’t need to ask her to be quiet, since she had her eyes closed and was snoring. He pursed his lips, deep in thought, then hit on an idea. Blood sugar levels. That was it. If he could give her a sugar hit, she might come around and have enough energy to get out of there.

  Sugar, sugar? He looked around, but couldn’t see anything.

  “Doh!” He smacked himself on the side of the head as he remembered, stuffing his hand in his pocket to find what he needed. It was empty! He looked down then realised with relief he had his hand in the pocket of the borrowed white coat. He flicked the coat flap out of the way and dug into his pocket where he found what he needed.

  He shook Sarina’s shoulders again and this time she came awake. “Yeth, doctor?” she said staring at his chest, unable to lift her head higher.

  “Sarina, you have to eat these and fast!” He opened the packet from his pocket and pulled out a handful of cough drops. “They’re full of sugar and will help you wake up.” He stuffed three of them at once into her mouth as she opened it to reply, then changed her mind and began chewing with a surprised look on her face.

  She swallowed and opened her mouth again to say something and Nathan grabbed another handful of cough sweets and rammed them into her mouth. He wondered if his rescue attempt would end up in a stomach-pumping emergency. Conscious of a dwindling escape window, let alone the fact that several burly nurses were probably looking for the perpetrator of the distraction, he looked at Sarina, pointed to his own mouth and mimed fast chewing.

  Her eyes widened in shock as she chewed and tried to speak. “Mmmmmm. Mmm. Mmmmmmm.”

  “Yes exactly,” Nathan said. He poked his head out of the door and checked for any commotion. He couldn’t see anything obvious happening—wait, what was that? At the other end of the corridor a red light in the ceiling was flashing. Had that been there before? He frowned, unable to remember. Oh well, they’d just have to make a dignified exit, him posing as a doctor—a height-challenged one—and her as a visitor.

  He closed the door and went back to Sarina, who was finishing her mouthful and beginning to look very angry.

  Nathan was relieved. An angry Sarina would be easier to spring out of the building than an unconscious one.

  “Here’s what we need to do—” but his words were drowned by the ear-splitting howl of the
Institute’s siren.

  “WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING?” Sarina shouted. “ARE YOU HERE TO KILL ME?”

  “NO”, Nathan yelled over the siren, “I CAN EXPLAIN LATER. BUT FIRST WE NEED TO GET YOU OUT OF HERE AND THEN WE MUST HELP PAOLO BEFORE HE IS KILLED BY THE GAS!”

  “OH MY GOD!” Realisation dawned on Sarina’s face as she came to. “I REMEMBER YOU TOLD ME. BUT HOW DO YOU KNOW? AND WHAT DO YOU …” Her face wrinkled into a puzzled expression.

  Nathan stopped her. “NO POINT TRYING TO TALK ABOUT IT HERE, I DON’T KNOW HOW LONG WE HAVE. I MEAN THEY HAVE. OH WHATEVER. AND I DON’T THINK IT’S JUST A DREAM EITHER. WE NEED TO MOVE FAST AND GET OUT OF HERE.”

  He ran to the window, opened it and looked down three floors of sheer wall to the ground. Nope, not there. He ran to the other window and opened it—yes, there it was.

  “SARINA QUICK—” the shrieking siren was deafening both of them, “OVER HERE, WE CAN GET OUT ONTO THE FIRE ESCAPE!”

  Sarina wobbled across, and Nathan pointed down at the steel lattice ladder attached to the outside. He cupped his hands over his mouth and shouted. “YOU FIRST”.

  “OH-KAY,” she mouthed back at him.

  He grinned and gave her the thumbs up as she climbed out, and he quickly followed, both of them climbing backwards down the ladder-like fire-escape.

  “WHERE ARE WE GOING?” Sarina shouted, looking up at Nathan as she clambered down, wishing her legs would function properly.

  “OVER THER—” suddenly the siren stopped and Nathan finished his sentence by shouting the last word at the top of his voice over the grounds for all to hear, “THERE!”

  “Oooops.”

  ~ 15 ~

  The Lake

  The drums grew louder as the search party arrived out of the forest trail and into the clearing. Makthryg looked to the commander and motioned him to silence the drums, then beckoned Valkrog to his side.

  “Do you sense where the boy may have hidden, Valkrog?” Makthryg spoke in an intense tone, his voice muffled by the mask.