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

  “No, your Greatness. But I can fly over the forest and look.” Valkrog looked up at the dark forest and into the sky, “It’s dark but perhaps I can still sense, though this mask will make the job more difficult.”

  Makthryg nodded. “Your efforts may be made more difficult, but if you are successful it will save us time. We will rest here and continue beating the drums to scare the boy into revealing himself. We will still need the masks for a few more hours.” He looked up at the sky and dismissed the bird-creature with a wave of his hand. “Now go. Find me the boy.”

  The creature bowed, transforming as he flexed his arms, and flew up into the sky with a mighty beating of wings, circling overhead once before flying low across the darkened treetops in the distance.

  Makthryg turned back to the commander, meaning to motion him to resume the drums, but was interrupted by a messenger arriving from across the clearing, who stood breathless and waited in front of Makthryg for permission to speak.

  “Well?” He glared at the messenger.

  The man paled and blurted out the muffled message between gasps. “Sire, the village is quiet and all the men are down. There is no sign of the boy—”

  “We know that,” Makthryg said, “the boy was sighted running this way. Why do you think we are here?” he leaned down towards the man, thrusting his masked face at him, “For rhythmic entertainment? What else do you report?” He straightened and stared at the man, who was visibly quailing.

  “Yes, Sire, very good, Sire. Nothing else to report except to ask for your orders, Sire.” The man bowed and stayed bent over awaiting instruction.

  “Tell your captain to search the township for any remaining men. Have him place them in the building with the others and secure it. We will call on you for further orders when we are ready. Is that clear?” His eyes burned furiously.

  “Yes, Sire,” the man bobbed nervously, “I shall take the message without delay sire.” He bowed once more, then sprinted back across the clearing, where he disappeared into the dark trail. Two men holding flares fell in behind him.

  Makthryg snapped his fingers and Hursk appeared at his side, sweat dripping from inside his mask. “Yes, my Lord?”

  “Resume drumming. Louder.”

  “Yes sire.”

  The man ran back to his drummers and the slow, insistent beat resumed. Makthryg scanned the sky, then over at the edge of the forest, his fist clenched by his side. “You are here, I feel it,” he whispered inside his mask, “now you must come to me.”

  ~~~

  A vicious flurry of wings came from high in the sky and Valkrog descended, folding them at the last second to alight in front of Makthryg and showing his respect with a bow and a flourish.

  “Well, Valkrog? Have you located the boy?”

  The creature hesitated. “Not yet, my Lord, but I can sense his hurried escape through the forest trails.” His eyes burned brightly behind the mask. “I believe he is close to the lake. Perhaps a quarter-hour march from here, through that trail.” He lifted one arm-wing to indicate a trail entry point on the other side of the clearing.

  “Good, Valkrog. You redeem yourself.”

  Valkrog bowed again and strode to his own unit.

  Makthryg scowled behind his mask, turned to face his men and held up his hands for silence. The drums halted at the commander’s signal and Makthryg lowered his hands. He spoke loudly through the mask.

  “We believe the boy to be located near the lake. We will pass through the far trail, which will mean marching two-abreast, with flare-carriers every sixth pair. Continue drumming and beating as we march. The boy will know we are coming and this time you will not fail.” He glared menacingly at his men. “The first man to catch the boy alive will earn a most pleasing reward; a regional command in the New World.”

  A few of the men could not resist a glance sideways at their colleagues. This was an unprecedented offer from the Great One. The unit straightened as one, awaiting the commander’s signal to march.

  Makthryg nodded and Hursk signalled the drummers. They began an enthusiastic, driving beat and the unit step-marched briskly forward across the clearing, eager to prove themselves to their Lord.

  ~ 16 ~

  Plan B

  Nathan looked down at Sarina, who had frozen on the escape ladder the moment the sirens had stopped, leaving his ‘THERE’ reverberating across the grounds announcing their escape.

  She was still staring at him.

  “What are you waiting for?” he whispered to her, “keep moving. We’re going over that wall.” He pointed over at the high brick wall, but Sarina couldn’t see any steps, stairs, lift, rope, climbing devices, rocket-propelled jetpacks, nothing. She looked back at him quizzically and continued climbing down. They were almost at the ground when the window of her room back up on the third floor was pushed further open and a red-faced nurse poked her head out and looked down.

  “There they are. Get them!” the nurse shouted, and pulled her head back in.

  “Oh dear,” Nathan said as he dropped to the ground beside Sarina. “Let’s run!”

  He grabbed Sarina’s hand and they ran across to the wall at the side of the enclosure—or rather Nathan ran, and Sarina attempted a kind of weird drunken pirate dance since her legs were still refusing to obey her instructions.

  They arrived at the wall and Sarina, gasping for breath, looked up at the top, then back at Nathan. “Now what? Do you have an extendable ladder?”

  “What? No. I used my brain. I will boost you up on my hands and you should reach the top, after which I will”—he looked at her strangely, realising he had left out a key element in his master plan, but was unwilling to admit it at that point—“I will run back in and continue my plan of distraction. You wait for me over the wall. Hide in the hedge and make sure my skateboard is ready.”

  “What?” Sarina looked confused, but had no time to question Nathan as he had spun her around to face the wall and interlaced both his hands, holding them out for her to step on. She looked down at his hands then back at him.

  “Well go on then!” he said, “it won’t be much of a rescue if we don’t get over the wall.”

  She stepped one foot onto his hands and jumped up to catch the top of the wall, but fell short. She looked back at Nathan in panic. “My legs won’t work properly. I can’t reach!”

  “Yes you can. C’mon, try again. This time you’ll do it.”

  She stepped into his hands, this time he tried to hold more firmly, and she sprang up to catch a hold of the top of the wall and made it. Just.

  “Up you go then.” Nathan reached up, gave her bottom a big shove with his hand as she scrabbled for grip with her feet to climb up and over.

  Sarina yelped. “Did you just—” she turned around and gave Nathan a furious look.

  Nathan, reddening, tried to ignore her expression as he turned to run off. “Remember, hide in the hedge and get my skateboard ready. I’ll meet you there.” He waved as he left, leaving Sarina with her mouth open.

  He ran around the corner, hoping he could put Plan B into operation before he was discovered—then he corrected himself. What was he thinking? Before they were BOTH discovered. All he needed to do was reach that small crevice where he had hidden the paper bag.

  ~ 17 ~

  Drowning

  The reed tube was beginning to taste sour, but that was nothing compared to the freezing water soaking into his bones. He swam slowly further into the bank, hoping to find some warmer waters and perhaps a better hiding place. He wasn’t sure how long the gas would be effective, but by the look of that disturbed air he had seen on the other side of the lake, it wasn’t worth taking the chance. He wasn’t at all sure if being underwater would make any difference; the tube was sticking up into the same air after all. But it did mean he couldn’t be seen; he wouldn’t have to risk running through the deadly air to escape and so he assumed he would be at less risk of death.

  Death, he thought miserably. All the Elders, Andreas, Toma
s, his friends. All dead. Even if he survived, what was he to do? How could he, the deaf-mute boy, save the women and children, let alone defend the valley against Makthryg? And if the gas was to kill him right here, then before he died, he wished he could picture his mother’s face. Just one last time.

  He stopped swimming and floundered in some dense reeds treading water. He had hoped to find some sound footing, when he stopped and held his breath in horror.

  The water was vibrating.

  Not much, but with a regular, horrible beat. Where had he heard that beat before? Then he remembered. It was when Makthryg took his family, all those years ago. His stomach churned. It was the beat of the war drums from the fortress.

  He stayed as still as could be, despite his now-constant shivering and tried to feel the location of the rhythmic beat through the water, all the while sucking on the reed.

  He concentrated, and was now certain of the direction the vibration was coming from. The beat was getting stronger—and worse—it was heading his way.

  Panic set in and Paolo started breathing hard through the reed tube. He twice sucked in water from the lake, coughing and spluttering. He thrashed his way further into the reeds on the bank, still completely under water, then he slipped and took another mouthful.

  “Uggghhhhh.” He spluttered as he flailed around for purchase, but only succeeded in tangling himself further in the reeds and felt himself being pulled underwater. He strained to keep the tube up above the surface, but only just.

  His head was dizzy and he wasn’t sure if the gas was taking effect, or if he was hyperventilating from using the tube. Help. He needed help. Sarina had promised! He would have one more attempt before he died, and then he remembered that she would be more easily summoned if he had an emotional dream. But who could easily conjure up such a dream when they were fully submerged, sucking poison gas through a reed, freezing cold and tangled in reeds?

  In frustration and panic-turning-to-rage, he screamed inside his head, eyes tightly closed, hoping that Sarina would hear him. “SARINA! SARINA!”

  One last try.

  “SARINA!” He clenched his fist underwater in frustration.

  “HELP!”

  ~ 18 ~

  Gunfire

  Sarina clenched her fist in frustration. Where was he?

  After jumping awkwardly down from the wall, she had pushed herself into an unkempt hedge and nearly tripped over Nathan’s skateboard and bag.

  From her squatting position she dared to peer up and poke her head out.

  Bang! Bang! Bang Bang Bang!

  The gunfire was coming from across the other side of the Institute’s grounds. Sarina groaned in despair. What had she gotten herself into, escaping with some lunatic who was engaged in a futile shoot-out on the other side of the building?

  Suddenly she felt a strange sensation; it was really hard to breathe and water was closing in over the top of her head. She fell backwards, almost blacking out. A stark image of Paolo, mouth open and screaming in fear, rushed into her head. Screaming for help. For HER help.

  Her stomach churned. She’d promised to help him and that felt like an impossibility from where she was right now.

  The gunfire grew louder and more rapid. She had surreal visions of Nathan running amok in the grounds, machine guns blazing under each arm as he mowed down guards, nurses and patients with an evil laugh while quoting each bullet’s velocity. “Ha ha ha ha! 1094.6 kilometres per hour! Take that!”

  Nathan hurtled around the corner—she assumed he must have ditched the machine guns—and ran up, panting. “Quick. Get the skateboard and my bag. We need to get out of here fast, I may have cut Plan B a bit fine!”

  She pulled the board and bag out from the hedge and he snatched them from her, throwing the skateboard on the ground and indicating to her. “You get on first.”

  Sarina was paralysed with fear. Didn’t he get that she, er, wasn’t a skater? “I er …” she resolved to be truthful. After all, he’d recently mass-murdered an entire mental institute. She’d heard it was a good idea to be polite and truthful in such a situation. She gulped and looked him in the eye. “Actually I have no idea how to skate.”

  Nathan groaned. “OK. It’s a special tandem board and it usually takes two people who know what they’re doing. I guess we’ll improvise. Put one foot on, and when I step on in front of you, hold on around my waist, and try not to fall off!”

  Eeewww. Put her arms around a mass-murderer’s waist? There is a first for everything. She sighed and put her foot on the deck of the board.

  Nathan stepped on in front and took a quick look behind him, then winked at Sarina. “Hold on tight, this should be fun!” He kicked his other foot down so hard that they shot forward like a ball out of a cannon.

  “Waaaahhhhhh!” Sarina couldn’t help but cry out. She wasn’t sure if it was pure fear or surprise … or both.

  “Hold on you goose!” Nathan craned around with a crazy grin, his hair flying in the wind as they raced down the street, “we need to fly this chicken coop!”

  After what felt like hours of speed-frenzy and slalom-like moves around suburban streets, they curved around in a graceful arc and came to a halt tucked in between two large canvas barriers that were placed around an unattended roadwork.

  Sarina pulled her arms away from Nathan’s waist and shook them in disgust.

  Then stepping back, she put her hands on her hips and gave Nathan her sternest look. “How could you do such a thing?” She wobbled and swayed and wasn’t sure whether it was the after-effects of the drugs from the clinic, an overdose of cough sweets, or the crazy and frenetic ride on Nathan’s skateboard.

  Nathan was lost for words. When he finally regained control of himself, he spluttered a reply. “Well, thanks but no thanks! I just rescued you I’ll have you know! And what’s more Paolo needs help … and … and … there are people DYING!”

  “Shhhhh.” Sarina held her finger to her lips and looked around. Hadn’t he realised that he had shouted “DYING” loud enough for the whole street to hear?

  Nathan turned beetroot and swallowed. “Ooops. Sorry.”

  Sarina took her finger from her lip and stabbed it at Nathan’s chest. “Listen, Mr Nathan Goldberg, just because you are a mass-murderer, doesn’t mean I can’t have words with you—hold on, did you say ‘Paolo’ and ‘people dying’?”

  A horrible rush of thoughts piled into her head. She remembered Nathan saying something to her when she was in daze, something about Paolo and gas … and … and … she plumped down on a sandbag, confused.

  “Oh. But why did you kill all those people at the Institute?”

  Nathan’s brow furrowed for a moment, then he broke out in a howling fit of laughter.

  “Shhhhhh!” Sarina glared at him. “Why are you laughing?”

  Nathan was doubled over, holding his stomach with one hand and had the other clamped over his mouth, his eyes dancing with glee.

  “Oh that’s too good,” he wheezed, straightening, “you seriously thought all that noise was me spraying bullets at all the guards?” He collapsed in another fit of laughter, shaking his head in mirth, holding his hand over his mouth to keep the noise in.

  Still bent over, he reached into his bag with his other hand and pulled out something that looked like a crumpled piece of cardboard or paper. He held it out to Sarina.

  She snatched it from him, looking at him puzzled, then inspected the item carefully. Realising what it was, she dropped it to the ground with a yelp. “Chinese firecrackers? You set off Chinese firecrackers? But … but …” She stuttered. Things were moving way too fast for her to keep up with her own words.

  “They’re illegal?” Nathan said.

  Sarina nodded, dumbstruck.

  “Well strictly speaking. Unless of course, you have a license to experiment because of your interest in chemical science. I remembered I still had some in the garage and ducked back to grab them, thinking they might come in useful. Which they did.” He raised his
eyebrows. “They’re strictly kosher.” He sighed. “Well maybe not if you use them as a distraction, but we’ll work that out when we get to it.” He grinned, remembering the guards and nurses throwing themselves to the ground when the crackers went off. “You should have seen—” but Sarina wasn’t paying attention.

  She had her hands clutched to her throat, her eyes bulging. “Quick, Nathan. Let’s find somewhere where we can hide. I have to get to Paolo. I think he’s drowning!”

  There were tears in her eyes.

  Nathan nodded and sprang into action, pulling her up with one hand, picking up his board with the other. “I know an empty house just down that alley,” he nodded at an opening near them, “and there is an old garden shed that we can get into from this end of it. Quick,” he said glancing around to make sure the way was clear, “let’s go!” and they ran into the narrow pathway, casting furtive glances behind them as they went.

  ~ 19 ~

  The Shed

  “Well,” Sarina said, sitting on an old folded blanket she’d found in the shed and catching her breath, “now what?” and she looked at Nathan for help.

  He shrugged. “We have to find a way to get to Paolo and his world. How do you normally do that? He seemed to think you had promised him help. Oh. I almost forgot. He said something strange. He said; ‘Tell her to hug her mother before she comes. She’ll understand.’ What did he mean by that?”

  She knew exactly what he meant by that. “Imagine an evil creature burned your father to death; his master banished your mother and your little brother to the mines, and cursed you so you can’t speak or hear.” Her voice broke as she spoke. “Now imagine you want to hug your mother so badly it hurts. But she’s not there and you can’t remember her face.” She looked at Nathan. “He’s all alone. He needs our help. And if the townsmen are dead?”

  Nathan nodded, his face ashen. “I can see why you promised to help.”

  They stared at each other.

  “I did promise,” Sarina said, dropping her gaze to the floor, “but I normally help him in my dreams.” Her face fell and she looked back up at Nathan. “How do I dream at a moment’s notice, when I’m on the run and it’s daylight?” She drew her knees up to her chest and hugged them with both arms, looking back at the floor. “I mean, everyone seems to think that having these dreams means I’m insane and that I need some kind of treatment. I’m scared, Nathan. I don’t want to go back to that horrible place.”