by Paul A. Rice
‘Bloody hell!’ he said. ‘What are you doing? Don’t tell me, you’ve written-off the Porsche…’ Ken turned and scowled at the Ridgebacks, his angry look chastising their lack of warning. They completely ignored him, to stand, wagging their tails at Mike.
Mike had two big bags with him. Dumping them on the front step, he grinned and wrapped an arm around Ken’s shoulders. ‘Nah, mate, it’s all good,’ he said, ‘I’ve sold the car, and it was all in one piece! Carol is taking care of the flat for me, so,’ he said, looking Ken straight in the eye, ‘we, my old son, are going on a little trip!’
Jane shouted at them to come in, picking up Mike’s gear, the men did as she asked. Once they had carried the bags into the spare room, they made their way back into the kitchen. Jane flicked the kettle on and turned to Mike. ‘Right, come on then,’ she said. ‘Let’s be hearing the news, what’s happening?’
Mike powered up his magic box, the screen came to life and George appeared before them. He had discarded the dapper black outfit he had been wearing when Jane had seen him last and now had on the more casual attire, which they were more used to seeing him in. He walked towards the screen and took a seat in front of the lens that was transmitting his image. He smiled and said, ‘Hello again, my friends! I hope that you are all in good health, Jane, we have been monitoring your recovery and I do believe that you are getting there – how do you feel, my dear?’
‘Good, I guess, George. I still feel so tired though, and my back hurts. But otherwise I’m doing okay.’ Jane said, nodding as he told her that she was to expect the discomfort for a while longer as the infection she had picked up meant that her immune system had been severely weakened.
George changed the subject. ‘Anyway, we have studied your proposals,’ he said. ‘Yes, we have had a good talk about ‘The Plan’. After some careful consideration, we have decided to proceed with it. However, I must warn you that this will mean a total life-change, one that will involve a completely new beginning, with no return to where you are now. I hope you understand that?’ He observed them carefully, looking for any hesitation on their behalf.
Seeing none, their old friend continued. ‘Right, well, make absolutely sure that you are certain. There will still be time to back out should you change your minds, although I do notice that young Michael is already packed!’ He laughed and then said, ‘I am downloading all the data you require – Red is currently without his father, fortunately for us. The man seems to have disappeared momentarily.’ He paused to glance down at his notes. Taking a breath, he continued: ‘However, the magazine is pulling Red towards the Darkness. It is starting to blossom within him, we have provided a small distraction to take the edge off the power the Darkness is starting to exert over the boy. He is currently fifteen years of age, a mere child in a man’s body…’ Pausing, he looked across at someone who, off camera, had passed him some papers.
He read them and then looked up again, saying: ‘By our estimation you have about two weeks to do whatever it is that you need to do in your present dimension. Then we must act, because if we wait much longer, Red will be taken again and it will become impossible to get him back!’ After one final consultation with his paperwork, he glanced down at them from the screen. ‘Is there anything else we need to discuss?’ he asked. ‘I’m sorry we cannot promise you a return trip, but this time we have to ask you to commit for an extended period, one which may conceivably last forever.’ He sat back and waited for them to ask any questions they felt needed answering.
The trio sat in silence for a while, there were no questions. They had pulled the whole plan to pieces and then reassembled it several times before they had submitted it to George.
Ken, mainly to break the silence, asked one thing. ‘George, just confirm that we’ll have access to our finances from over there, I know we mentioned it, but…?’
George smiled. ‘Ah, Kenneth,’ he said. ‘The practical one as ever, yes, absolutely you will be able to use your money, just as you do here. I must say that your account looks very healthy indeed! When you go back to Red, it will be even more valuable, the prices of things in that particular parallel are much cheaper than in your present location. Yes, you will be extremely wealthy indeed!’ He looked at them again and then said, ‘You deserve to be!’
They laughed and spent the next few minutes ticking all the boxes with George. After a while he said his goodbyes and asked them to call him when they were ready. Seconds later he had gone, leaving them to their own devices.
‘So, it’s a fortnight is it, what do we have to do?’ Ken asked as he looked at the other two.
Mike said he had done everything, he had no family at all and his property would be rented with the income being transferred to his account monthly. He looked more than ready to go.
Ken glanced at him. ‘You’re cool with all of this, aren’t you, mate?’ he asked, with a wry smile.
Mike nodded. ‘I can’t wait, man!’ he exclaimed. ‘We’re going on our travels, going to some other place, some other time! Think about it, what else is there to see around here anyway? We’ve seen the future, and it sucks! Maybe this way we can actually make the changes stick.’ He made his left hand into a hollow fist and slapped the top of his thumb and forefinger with the palm of his other hand. It made a loud, slapping noise, a sound of happy anticipation.
Ken and Jane had no real ties. Both sets of their parents were long dead and there were no other relatives. They were free, in every sense of the word.
They busied themselves with their plans, and over the next ten days, Ken managed to put the lodge on the market, it was a very desirable residence and they soon had plenty of interest. There was no outstanding mortgage – years working in the dust of Afghanistan, and other equally dangerous places, had taken care of that. They instructed the estate agent to extend the lease on the apartment in London; they liked the current tenants, who had expressed an interest in buying the place. Ken left the agent with a power of attorney and organised for any funds to be transferred to his account as and when the properties were sold.
Jane called their friends and told them to come and take their pick of the furniture. When they asked what was going on, Jane just said that she and Ken had decided to take some time out and do that ‘travel the world’ thing. It wasn’t long before they had most things organised. Ken had found takers for all of his possessions – George had told them that as long as it would fit into the Spears, then they would be able to pack whatever they liked. Jane took the task in hand and before long she had packed four suitcases with clothes, a few pieces of memorabilia and some photos. The rest they either sold or gave away to people they knew.
Frank Ball, their friendly neighbourhood-farmer, was absolutely delighted to see Ken when he rolled onto his driveway in the old Range Rover. Frank had admired the sturdy vehicle for years, and when, after a cup of tea in Frank’s kitchen, Ken handed him the keys and an envelope containing the logbook and service records, the man had been adamant he would pay for it.
Ken had to almost physically restrain the stocky farmer. ‘No way, buddy – you guys have been great neighbours for years,’ he said. ‘We’re off on our travels and it needs a good home. It’s not worth a damned penny anyway, but she’s a good old beast.’
Talking of beasts, Frank then cured the one problem that had been keeping Ken awake at nights. ‘What are you doing with the dogs, Kenny man? I’ll have them withoot a problem, you know…’ Frank knew the Ridgebacks very well and had always marvelled at their discipline and hunting ability.
Ken was so pleased that he could have kissed the red-faced farmer. And so the deal was done, Ken would bring the hounds around later that day to give them a chance to get used to their new surroundings. Frank said that he would come and dismantle the wooden kennel and then erect it in his farmyard. That idea suited Ken to the ground. Looking at Frank’s rotund belly, he also knew that Mrs Ball wouldn’t be letting her latest additions starve.
In the end, Frank had said he
would take the dogs straight away. Ken agreed with relief. Frank gave him a lift back to the lodge and sadly said goodbye to Jane and Mike. As he was leaving, Frank turned and asked Ken if they would need a lift to the station or somewhere.
Ken waved and said, ‘Nah, it’s all okay, thanks! We’ve already made prior arrangements – cheers for the offer, though. I appreciate it.’
Frank smiled, and after loading the Ridgebacks and their food into the back of his newly-acquired Range Rover, walked over and hugged Jane. He also shook hands with the men once more, and then drove back to his farm. Jane had already said goodbye to the dogs and couldn’t face seeing them again. They left it at that.
They continued with their packing for another day, Mike was a great help, humping and dumping things for them and keeping a regular supply of brews on the go. Jane made sure all of her painting things were placed in a neat pile by the back door.
‘I know I’m going to need them, I just know!’ she said, when Ken had raised his eyebrows. He never argued and instead matched her pile with one of his own. Soon there were two piles, one of painting equipment and one of guns and ammunition. ‘I thought you were fed up with all that stuff?’ Jane asked, nodding at the weapons.
He paused for a while, before saying: ‘Yeah, I am, especially after what happened to you, but we don’t know what’s going to come our way, and it’s better to be safe than sorry, I would say…’
Jane laughed at him, saying: ‘It’ll be fine, we’re going to the farm, we’ll get a place of our own somewhere and then we’ll all live happily ever afterwards!’
She was almost right.
***
On the night of the twelfth day, they held a party at the now nearly-empty lodge. People had been coming and going for the last few days, popping in to collect the furniture and the other items which they had chosen to take. It had been a frenetic few days but now the job was done.
Ken and Mike had walked across to the old barn the night before and quietly loaded the Spears with all the items they had decided to take on their trip. Once loaded, Mike had zapped them and then placed the miniatures back into the case and then zapped that, too. He slid the matchbox sized container into his pocket – Ken looked at him and shook his head. The sight of two massive vehicles, which happened to contain the sum content of their lives, reduced in their entirety to a tiny square box, and then stuffed into his best friend’s pocket, was, to say the very least, totally mind-blowing. Mike put his arm around Ken’s shoulder and together, chuckling as they went, the two men walked calmly back to the lodge.
The packing was complete and apart from a few bits and pieces they were almost ready to go. People turned up from all over the place, several all the way from London and also a few who had been living abroad. They all came to say goodbye and between them they had a good laugh, told some very tall tales, and also managed to get gloriously drunk in the process.
Jane kept off the drink as her stomach and back weren’t really feeling that great, instead she spent her time engaged in small-talk with everyone, studiously sticking to the story. ‘Ever since Ken’s injury we’ve been planning on ‘doing one’… we want to travel without ties and, well, we’re going at last!’ She smiled when her friends remarked how lucky they were. ‘Yeah, I guess so – really lucky, but Ken has worked hard, you know, so we thought we may as well go and make all that effort worth it.’
They also asked Mike what he was doing. He simply said that he would be tagging along with Ken and Jane for a while, ‘Then I’ll be off on some travels of my own, I guess…’ If they had known him better then perhaps they would have seen the strange glimmer in his eye.
The night was a great success and sometime after midnight the last guests had either left for home or crawled onto one of the camp beds, which Ken had erected about the empty lodge. It had been a wonderful evening, but it was still with some relief that they all crawled into their own sleeping bags for some much-needed sleep.
The following morning, after a slightly hung over breakfast, they said their final goodbyes to the stragglers and then painfully completed the final packing. Their efforts left them with a small cardboard box and a few plastic carrier bags containing the last remnants of their time in the lodge, and of their life so far.
Looking at their paltry belongings, Jane said, ‘Well, that’s not much to show for nearly forty years of life, is it?’ The reality of their decision had unexpectedly washed over her and the sight of the bare walls, lonely picture hooks and barren cupboards was a saddening one.
Ken, seeing Jane’s glum expression, walked over to join her. Standing by the kitchen sink, he said, ‘Hey, come on there now, baby… everything will be fine! New horizons, big adventures and plenty more craziness to come – what more can you want?’ He leaned over and pulled her tightly towards him with his left arm. Standing there, arm-in-arm, they gazed out of the kitchen window and looked up at the beautiful green countryside sloping upwards behind the lodge.
‘Yeah, you’re right,’ Jane said. ‘We’ve had some good times here and I shall miss them, but new things await us! So, let’s just keep the memories safe, shall we?’ She turned towards him and they kissed gently.
When they parted, Ken held her at arm’s length, saying: ‘I don’t care about anything, Jane. We can sleep in a ditch for all I care, just as long as we’re together then the rest will be easy, life’s just a game anyway, nothing lasts forever.’ He smiled at her and she smiled back. They were together and that was all that mattered.
Later, they sat with Mike and did one final check of all their paperwork and finances – all those things they would never have the chance to do again, not in this place they wouldn’t. Ken had been very assiduous and the final check was a quick affair. Jane called out the item and Ken checked it off on his list. ‘Done, sold, done…’ he said, confirming the list with a quick tick of his pen. It wasn’t long before he was satisfied. ‘Right, folks, that’s it,’ he said, with a slight grin. ‘We are ready to rock, what now, Mike?’
Mike reached for the Communicator and flipped the lid open. ‘I’ll contact George and find out, shall I?’ he whispered. ‘We’re a day early, but what the hell…’ They watched in silence as he attended to the keypad.
The reply from George was almost instantaneous. ‘Be ready in fifteen minutes – ensure you are wearing the suits and that you have all taken the appropriate tablet. At exactly midday you should be in the vehicle. Good luck!’
The screen died and they looked at each other in silence, the rush of reality heading straight towards them – it was to a long time before they would hear from George again, a very long time.
‘Oh God, I’m so nervous…I just can’t tell you!’ Jane said as she stood and made her way upstairs to get changed.
Ken followed her – he knew what she meant, the butterflies in his guts were starting to grow fingernails, sharp fingernails.
Mike was as cool as ice. He had already changed into his suit and popped one of the blueys. He calmly sat on the window ledge and listened to his friends laughing upstairs. It was time to go and he was ready.
He was going to have to be, and he knew it.
Twelve minutes later, after having made their way over to the barn, hugged each other tightly, and zapped one of the Spears into its required size, with the spare tucked away in the boot as normal, they were seated inside the vehicle with their seatbelts tightly fastened. Mike switched on the Navigator and watched as a timer appeared in the top right corner.
The digital counter was clicking down. The words above the decreasing timer said it all. ‘Jumping Time: 02:27…’ The numbers counted down towards the inevitable zeros. With eyes wide and mouths as dry as cream crackers, they sat and waited. Waited for zeros all round.
It wasn’t long before those inevitable numbers arrived.
22
Down on the Farm
His old man had been missing for more than two weeks now, but it wasn’t reciprocated – Dwayne Tolder never missed the f
iend at all, not one bit. He had long since stopped doing the chores, as there weren’t any, all he had to do was clean up behind himself and he wasn’t messy by any means, so that took hardly any time at all. Instead, the boy’s days were filled with early morning walks, fishing, reading the magazine and, above all, sketching.
Now he was free from the chains of his father’s shackles, the young man’s talent no longer lay hidden. It flourished like a lily in springtime. From the small bulb of ideas grew a beautiful stem, a stalk, topped by endless pages of pencil drawings; he sketched everything he saw, smelled, touched and heard. The ‘flowers’ he produced were wonderfully articulated upon the creased canvas of old bills and crumpled envelopes.
Yes, it was a good time for him and was only tempered by one thing, and that wasn’t even really a ‘thing’ as such. It was the dream, a horrible little play that appeared in his head every night. At some time after midnight he would have the same dream, over-and-over again. The vision he had of himself running across the oceans with a burning green stone clutched in his hand, disturbed him. He couldn’t seem to wake from the pantomime, felt himself held prisoner, clamped into place by some unseen force. He shook himself violently, trying to break free, but escape was not to be an option.
The ending was always the same, too. Red felt himself lifted and then fired, like one of those crazy ‘Human Cannonball’ folks he had watched at the fairground one time, fired into a long, black tunnel. Spiralling upwards, whirling through bright green light and rocketing towards the darkness that waited in hunger for him. His black destination took the shape of an enormous, spinning whirlpool and he was always propelled helplessly into it. Again and again, Red was launched into the darkness.
The boy’s echoing shriek became his nightly alarm call. Jerking upright in the bed, covered in sweat, he would sit with the sound of his own voice still ringing in his ears. Untangling the knotted sheets, the young man would go back to sleep. Or try to, tossing and turning until he eventually fell into a restless doze. The dream, it seemed, was the only thing that distracted him from his peaceful new life. Well, almost the only thing…
