by Tim O'Rourke
“That’s not what I meant when I said I didn’t understand,” Annora said, shaking her head in bewilderment.
“What did you mean?” Franziska asked.
Very slowly, Annora raised her hands. She peered between her fingers at Kiera, Potter, Jake, and Franziska. “What I want to know is why I had streams of light leaking from my fingertips and why my hands looked like claws.”
Jake Stranger took a step away from the others and closer to Annora. He gently closed his hands around hers and lowered them. He then looked into her eyes and said, “The reason why your fingers were bleeding light and your hands looked like claws is because you are like me, Annora Snow.”
Annora felt like she had been punched in the stomach. She struggled to draw breath. “What are you trying to tell me, exactly?”
“Just like my mother and father, I am a Wicce…” Jake started.
“What’s a Wicce?” Annora asked, her voice sounding confused as if waking from a dream.
“The Wicce are witches and wizards,” Jake said. “But, like my mother and father, I am more than just a wizard, I’m a wolf, too.”
Annora pulled her hands free of Jake’s. She placed them down at her sides and made fists. “So you’re trying to tell me that I’m a witch?” She scoffed.
“No, you’re much more than that,” Jake said. “Like me, you’re a wolf, too. I’m here to help you. I will show you how to use and wield the power you have inside of you. That’s why you died first time around in 2067. You had no idea what you truly were. Your power was lying dormant inside of you. For some reason, at that very moment, perhaps brought on by the stress of the chase, your powers burst forth and you caused an accident that you died in and that left Karl Potter in a coma for eleven months.”
Still feeling numb with shock and confusion, Annora said, “But how can you help me?”
“Because you and I are the same, Annora,” Jake Stranger said. “And whoever your true parents are, they were just like us.”
Chapter Eighteen
The year 2067
For how long Karl had been unconscious, he had no idea. As the fleeting fragments of reality came seeping back, he opened his eyes to find himself still lying on the floor of the crate. His flashlight had come back on and was just out of reach. The cone of light shining from it lit up the floor, and to his surprise, he could no longer see any sign of the corpse that had been lying nearby when he had blacked out. He heard footsteps and he turned his head. Someone was standing close by, as he could see their feet. Had Selina finally managed to park the patrol vehicle and come in search of him? If she had, then for some reason she had taken off her boots, as the feet he was looking at were bare. He could count all ten toes.
Karl rolled onto his back and looked up. He stifled the immediate urge to shout out in fear. The young man who had been stretched out and dead on the floor was now standing up and peering down at him. Karl screwed his eyes shut in the hope that perhaps he was still unconscious and had yet to wake. He prayed that the nightmarish image of the corpse now standing over him was just that—a nightmare he would rapidly and gladly wake from.
Karl opened his eyes again and looked up. Nope. Not a nightmare. The corpse was still right there, staring down at him with a pair of soulless black eyes. Perhaps Karl had been mistaken and the guy hadn’t been dead. But the wound? It had been gaping and open. Working his hand like a crab, he blindly scuttled it away from him as he searched for the flashlight. To his relief, he felt his fingertips brush against cold metal. He closed his fingers about the flashlight, raising it above him. He shone the light up into the young man’s face. At once, the dead man—that’s if he was—threw his hands to his face and screamed. It was like the torchlight had burnt his flesh somehow.
While the young man was momentarily blinded by the light, Karl seized his chance and sprang to his feet. He whirled around to face the man. He stood in the bright beam of light, his almost naked body looking bleached white. The man Karl had once believed to be dead stood away from him, hands covering his face. A whimpering sound came from behind his hands.
Sensing that the light was distressing him, Karl lowered the flashlight, leaving much of the young man in shadow. But despite the gloom, Karl could see him clearly enough. To his growing alarm and confusion, Karl could see that the young man’s hands, which still covered his face, didn’t actually look like hands anymore. Not human hands. The fingers seemed long—too long. They were curled inwards like crow’s feet and each finger was capped with a black jagged and razor-sharp nail.
“What the fuck?” Karl frowned, narrowing his eyes and raising the flashlight once more.
No sooner had the light fallen against the man again, he lowered his hands to reveal a face that appeared to be twisted out of shape. And as Karl stared through the bright beam of light, he could see that the young man’s face wasn’t twisted as he had first thought, but he was snarling. His top lip was rolled back to reveal bloody gums filled with rows of jagged and blade-like teeth. As Karl stood there, trying to make sense of what he was seeing—a part of him still hoping that he was still unconscious—the young man spoke.
“Thirsty,” he said, his voice little more than a choking rasp.
He spoke again, and as he did, Karl coiled away in revulsion. The jagged tear in the young man’s throat was flapping open and closed as he said the word ‘thirsty’ over and over again. It was like he had two mouths he was speaking from. But Karl knew that the corpse wasn’t speaking through both holes. The gaping wound in his throat was drawing in air, like a giant fish gill. It made a slurping sound as it sucked in air every time the dead man said the word ‘thirsty.’
Karl continued to stand rooted to the spot, trying to comprehend what he was seeing. The corpse took a step forward. Raising his bony white claws before him, he reached for Karl. As if being slapped awake, Karl took an instinctive step backwards into the corner of the shipping crate. He pulled his gun from its holster. With it pointed directly at the chest of the approaching nightmare, Karl barked a command.
“Stand still or I will shoot!”
Ignoring his warning, the dead man took another step forward. This one wasn’t slow, but fast and fluid. Before Karl had had a chance to let off a shot, the young man had tightened one claw about his throat. As if Karl was stuffed with little more than straw, the dead man lifted him off his feet, driving him up the back wall of the crate. The top of Karl’s helmet scraped against the roof. He gasped and spluttered beneath the dead man’s choking hold. Their eyes met and Karl could see that there was no white to them. They were black and lifeless. The young man stretched open his mouth, revealing the spiked teeth that bled through his gums. He jerked his head forward, fangs searching for Karl’s throat and the blood that pumped through it.
Still gripping his gun tight, he pressed the muzzle against the man’s stomach. Without further hesitation, Karl squeezed down on the trigger. The sound of the gun firing in such a confined place was deafening. It sounded like a bomb had gone off in each of Karl’s ears. He was momentarily deafened, and was therefore unable to hear the gut-wrenching screech the dead man made as he flew backwards and away from Karl.
With his back still against the rear wall of the crate, Karl watched the man hit the floor. If he hadn’t been dead already, Karl knew that he was most definitely dead now. But no sooner had the thought passed through his mind and out the other side, the young man was twitching once more.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me?” Karl groaned, taking aim at the man again, who was now pulling himself back onto his feet.
Before he was upright, Karl released two more shots. The bullets thundered into the man’s chest in quick succession. Once again, he went down. But then, the man began to pull himself up.
“Thirsty,” he wheezed, the jagged wound in his throat flapping wetly open and closed. The front of his chest was stained, like he was wearing a bib the colour of cherries.
Karl stood and watched in confusion, horror, and re
vulsion as the young man staggered once more to his feet. He couldn’t help but hear the voice of the Bot disguised as Annora Snow whispering in his ear.
Be careful of the Night Diners, Karl Potter, the Bot had warned him.
And as that warning now rang in his ears, he wondered whether the Bot had not been trying to warn him about the delinquents that frequented the Night Diner, but vampires. After all, during the Third War, hadn’t the humans referred to vampires as the Night Diners?
Fearing that he was now face to face with one of the creatures that had once waged war against the human race, Karl emptied the rest of his bullets into the creature. And as his gun boomed over and over again in the claustrophobic confines of the shipping crate, Karl still struggled to believe that he was indeed looking at one of the supernatural creatures that had nearly brought the human race close to extinction.
As far as he knew—as far as he understood it—there were no such supernatural creatures left in the world anymore. His mother had once told him so.
Chapter Nineteen
The year 2067
Despite everything Annora had seen on the TV monitor, she still couldn’t believe it. She refused to believe it. The stone walls of the small underground room she was in felt as if they were closing in on her. But it wasn’t only just the walls, but Kiera, Potter, Jake, and Franziska. Each of them was staring at her and standing close. Too close. Annora felt as if she couldn’t breathe. Jake Stranger’s words, you and I are the same, Annora, kept screaming around her mind.
Clenching her hands into fists, she said to Jake, “Me and you are not the same. We are nothing alike. And my parents were nothing like yours.”
It wasn’t Jake who responded to her, but Potter. “Seriously? After everything you’ve seen?”
Ignoring him, and the rest of them, Annora barged past Jake and headed out of the room. “I’m getting out of here. I’m going home!”
With the sound of Annora’s retreating footsteps echoing off the stone corridor, Kiera looked at her friends.
“What now?” Franziska asked.
“We go after her.” Kiera sighed, knowing what was going to come next. But however painful, it was the best thing to do for Annora. It was the only way of getting her to realise and understand whom and what she truly was.
“This isn’t going to be pretty,” Potter said, heading for the door.
The others followed him. Once in the corridor, Franziska shot forward with such speed, it was like she had disappeared. Annora raced into the circular chamber. With her heart beating and hands clenched into balls, she darted toward the passageway she knew would lead her out from beneath the mountains. But where would she go once she was back outside? Head for Outpost 71? Find Karl Potter like Noah had told her to? What would be the point? Karl was Kiera’s and Potter’s son, and Annora wanted to get as far away from them as possible. She wasn’t so sure now that she wanted to be Karl’s partner and she didn’t just mean work colleague. Why had she agreed to let Noah push her into the future? Had her life at home with her parents been really so bad? They had given her everything she had ever wanted, hadn’t they? Perhaps her parents had been right about her, and she was nothing more than a spoilt brat. One thing she knew for sure in her heart, was that whatever her mother and father thought of her, they were her parents.
As she reached the entrance to the passageway, she came to a staggering halt. As if out of nowhere, Franziska appeared before her. With arms folded across her chest, Franziska was now blocking Annora’s exit from the underground chamber.
“Get out of my way!” Annora spat.
Franziska looked at Annora as if she pitied her somehow. “We can’t let you leave.”
Annora reached for her, grabbing hold of the front of the long black leather coat Franziska wore. Annora tried to yank her to one side, but Franziska seemed immoveable. It was like she was a deadweight.
Realising she was wasting her time, Annora spun around on her heels and faced the circular chamber once more. She saw another exit and raced toward it. Then, as if by magic, Jake Stranger appeared before her. He was now blocking the second exit. And just like Franziska had, Jake folded his arms across his chest. He stood stock-still, with his back straight.
“Please, just get out of my way.” Annora almost pleaded with him. She suddenly felt desperate.
“Please stay with us, Annora,” Jake said. His voice wasn’t harsh or cruel, but filled with kindness and understanding. “Let me help you.”
“Never,” Annora said, spinning around again.
She looked across the makeshift sitting room and could see Kiera and Potter blocking the entrance to the passageway she had just left. With heart racing and fingers twitching at her sides, she scanned the room for any other way of escape. It was then that she saw another narrow opening set into the wall on the opposite side of the room. Drawing breath, she sprang away from Jake Stranger and raced across the room toward it. Feeling pleased with herself, Annora raced into the passageway. She ran as hard and as fast as she could, her chest hitching up and down as she drew breath.
The narrow passageway she now found herself in twisted like a snake. And although lanterns hung from the walls on either side of her, she had no idea where she was heading. Was she running deeper and further into the mountainside? Was the route she was now taking leading her back above ground and to escape?
Annora could hear the sound of running footsteps behind her. Gasping for breath, she glanced back over her shoulder. She saw the shadows of those who pursued her dancing along the rocky and uneven walls. She faced front once more and picked up her pace. Why wouldn’t they just let her go? She wasn’t important to them. But what she had seen on the TV monitors suggested to her that perhaps she was of more importance than she realised. Maybe the footage she had seen had been manipulated in some way? Maybe that was the reason why much of the video she had watched had been flickering in and out. Had they in some way doctored it to make it look like streams of electricity had been leaping from her fingers and her hands to look like claws? Back in 2018, the year she had come from, such simple effects could be achieved on any laptop with a cheap animation program. So now that she was in 2067, such manipulation would be even simpler to achieve. But why would they want to deceive her like that?
Up ahead, Annora thought she could see light at the end of the passageway and she raced toward it. Annora had no idea how long she had been in the underground cavern beneath the mountainside and hoped that the chink of light she could see in the distance was daylight. If it was, would Kiera and Potter follow her out into the light? She racked her brain as she tried to remember the different vampire films she had seen at the movies and on TV. Weren’t vampires allergic to daylight? Didn’t it kill them if they stepped into it? Believing that it might, Annora mustered the last of her strength as she sprinted along the passageway and toward the light.
With every step she took, the light grew brighter, but as she neared it, her racing heart sunk in her chest as she realised it wasn’t sunlight she could see, but moonlight. Whether sunlight or moonlight, she felt a spark of hope as she realised that she was running toward an exit that would lead her outside and to possible freedom.
Annora darted out of the passageway and into the night. She suddenly stopped, grit and dirt spraying up from beneath her boots. Annora spun around and around, the coattails of her long black coat flapping around her legs. Although she was indeed outside, she appeared to have run into another dead-end. Craggy walls rose up around her on all sides. They stood hundreds of feet tall. Tilting her head back, she looked up to see the moon way above her. It had stopped raining and moonlight now showered down. As Annora continued to turn around and around on the spot, she realised she had been chased into what appeared to be some vast and deep crater. It was as if she were now standing in the centre of some age-old volcanic pit.
As she continued to turn around, frantically looking for any other way of escape, she saw what looked like some kind of ramshackle elevator.
It had an iron frame and wire mesh on all four sides. It was attached to a series of chains and pulleys that travelled up the inside of the towering walls. Hoping the elevator might carry her up and out of the vast crater-like hole she now found herself in, she ran toward it. Her boots pounded and sloshed through puddles that covered the floor of the crater.
She reached the elevator and yanked on its wire mesh door. There was a sign on the door which read, Hollow Pit. Now that she was standing in front of the elevator, she could see that it was covered in rust and didn’t look as if it had been used for hundreds of years. Hoping that, despite its decrepit appearance, the elevator still might work and carry her to safety, Annora yanked open the wire mesh door. Flaky lumps of rust came away in her hands and showered down from the metal doorframe. She stepped into the elevator and looked for any buttons or levers that might power it up. But there were none that she could see. Annora glanced down, and at her feet was a small, yellow box that was attached to a thick, black electrical cable.
She bent at the waist and snatched the yellow power box up into her hands. There were two buttons, one red, and the other green. She pressed the green button with her thumb. Nothing happened. She pressed it repeatedly, but again, the elevator refused to power up. Making a fist, she began to pound the red button. Again, it made no difference. The elevator still refused to move.
“You’re wasting your time, the elevator doesn’t work,” she heard someone say.
She glanced up and gasped. It was Potter who had spoken. He was standing next to Kiera, Jake, and Franziska. They stood in the centre of the yawning crater staring at her. She took a step back. The yellow power box slid from her fingers and clattered to the elevator floor. Annora saw Kiera’s and Potter’s wings spring from their backs. And in the light of the moon that rained down from above, Annora saw that their hands were no longer humanlike, but stretched into long, jagged claws. Their teeth, which were now sharpened into pointed fangs, glistened in the moonlight.
