Black Book, Volume 1 (Black Book (Volumes))

by Dylan Jones

  The President managed to tip the pod maybe another inch before his fingers slipped and it crashed back down. Its solid mass shaking the walls. Too heavy. The Ox alone probably weighed more than he could lift since his last bout of surgery.

  “It's too late Ben, the pods go into lock-down within seconds of detecting DNA contamination. They're powering themselves now.” The General held up the last of the detached power couplings.

  “Damn it! How long have we got Jim?” President Freeman tried to focus on a clear strategy.

  The General just stood gaping.

  “General! I need our position right NOW! How long before this whole place is swarming with that Swat Team?”

  “I don't... they're 3 minutes away from the furthest corners of the station. Optimum time for response. From here, a little less.” The General blinked at the bloody carnage unfolding only feet away from him, “But they'll never stop him in time Ben, the pod bays will release automatically in half that time.”

  “They aren't coming to stop him, General. They're coming to clean up after him.”

  “What?”

  “It's the Company Jim! We're both nothing but damned puppets. And they're on their way right now to cut our strings.”

  Behind them, the Pod's hydraulics hissed. A motor noise almost like a shuttle's undercarriage whirred and clanked below deck, locking unseen struts into place. The pod jolted, then sank down quickly into its launch tunnel. As he was taken away the Ox looked the President right in the eye and saluted. He was backdropped by smeared red glass and the slumped Beta soldier Wolf, still in stasis, his life draining quickly.

  The steel top of the pod became flush with the floor. The glass unit detached and a loud blast of air-loss as it was sucked out into open space. The General and the President watched through the hull's glass wall as the time pod's thrusters flared back up into their field of view in the distance. It made minute micro-adjustments to its trajectory, and powered onward on its pre-programmed course; Toward Earth.

  5.

  Jack looked down the steady barrel pointed right at him and raised his arms. Not out of fear. He had held none of that for a long time. But out of respect. The old man had just stumbled across a naked stranger on his land. The least Jack could do was let the man be angry.

  “I'm only looking for water old man. Sorry about the intrusion.”

  The old man's face cracked into a grin. He lowered his gun. “Sir, you have no idea how long I've waited for those words. Oh my. Come here Jack and let these old eyes see you again.”

  Jack dropped his arms and took a cautious step forward. “I can't recall..”

  The old man shifted his hat and blinked at Jack in the sunlight. Jack realised the man had tears in his eyes. He grabbed Jack by the shoulders and shook his head. “My, my, my. A wonder. Yes sir, an absolute marvel.” The man beckoned the boy over. “Take a good look at this man's face son. This is the face of a hero. A god-damned hero no less.”

  The boy giggled and hid behind the old man's britches.

  The old man wiped his eye then clapped his hands together. “Well gentlemen. Now that we're all here, I guess we have some eating and drinking to do!” he gave his gun to Jack to carry and slapped him on the back. He hoisted the boy high in his arms and set off toward the house.

  Jack was confused but glad of the warm welcome. His memory might come back to him later. In the meantime he could drink, rest and eat. Now that food had been mentioned he suddenly thought of nothing else. Jack set off after them. The boy was peeking over the old guy's shoulder, studying the new strange arrival.

  The old man shouted without turning around, “Oh and remember to watch your step!”

  Jack's foot slid in something dark and he almost went tumbling. Horse manure. The boy giggled and clasped his hands over his mouth in delight.

  The old man laughed, a big hearty laugh. “Maybe you'll miss it next time.”

  Jack thought maybe the old guy was crazy after all. In the distance the dog started barking again. Jack felt an odd comfort in that. Now that he was no longer an intruder, the dog's yelps made him feel at home.

  6.

  The Ox exhaled. Finally clear of the station, he strapped himself in and de-activated the autopilot. The Ox saw the gargantuan vessel's plethora of blinking lights shrink to a singular point in the distance. The pod rocked him sideways as it corrected it's course. Wolf moaned softly behind him. There wasn't much time. The Ox twisted around and tearing off his own emergency supply pipe, strapped a makeshift tourniquet around Wolf's upper leg. The cut was deeper than he had intended, but worse than it looked. It had been a fine balance between releasing enough blood to activate the lockdown, and not cutting so much that his comrade would bleed out. He examined the wound. It would heal itself. At worst, Wolf would find himself in an unknown timeframe because of the nano-fluid loss. Ox hadn't used his own blood because he couldn't risk changing his own dose. He checked his levels. They were a little high, but well within the safety parameters. He would very likely shoot back only a day or two past his target date. He flicked the thruster switch. The pod rocked and shuddered under the increased G-Force. They shot head first toward the remains of the late, great planet earth.

  Small fragments of debris rattled against the glass. Then larger chunks, more often. The Ox craned his head round and saw nothing but planet. They were on the outskirts of the dwindling atmosphere. Now for the fun part.

  The pod guided itself toward a vast piece of blue surface miles below, avoiding large pieces of asteroid as it went. It hurtled toward the ocean, at times flaring its rockets. But only left or right. Never to slow itself. The Ox watched the altimeter count down through the volatile clouds until they were a good mile above the surface, then the front thrusters blasted on and they slowed fractionally. The rocket flames dazzled the Ox's forward view and he turned his attention back into the pod. He kept his eye on the altitude and waited until it approached 500 meters. The lower he could get it, the better their chance of survival. Outside, a raging wind bucked and threw the falling capsule like a raft at sea. The Ox rapped his head on the glass. Wolf groaned with each jolt. The altimeter said 20 meters and hovered there.

  Showtime.

  Unstrapping himself and turning around to face Wolf, the Ox cut off the thrusters and counted the fall in his head. When he reached six he pulled Wolf's magnetic coil. Half of the pod sheared away and Wolf was sucked out into the howling winds.

  “Safe jump kid.” He watched for a fraction of a second and saw Wolf 's dead weight evaporate into fine particles a couple of meters before hitting the fiery sea. Ox removed his own magnetic coil and felt the nano-cells in his bloodstream activate all at once. He was sucked out of the pod and had a sense of falling. The pod crashed heavily into the sea to his far right.

  Then there was no sea.

  There was nothing.

  7.

  “Feeling more like yourself?” The old timer grinned at Jack over the broad wooden table.

  Jack had eaten more than his fill and had washed it down without about a gallon of water. He felt like he could nap for a week. The old man had given him dry clothes that almost fit, and they had spent the rest of the daylight hours preparing then eating what little the bare cupboards had yielded. Jack saw that the boy had finally fallen asleep, his head heavy on Jack's shoulder. A single candle flickered on the table, making the urge to sleep that much stronger.

  “Kid likes you. Seems you pass the test.” The old man winked. The dog, an ugly brute nuzzled Jack's hand and wouldn't stop until Jack succumbed and scratched his head. The old man's smile faded. “Go on now Barkuss. Off with you!” The dog hung its head low and lay down quietly under Jack's legs.

  “He's a good dog, but we don't get too close to him. He's for working.” The dog blinked up at them, his head on his front paws. Outside, the crickets played their moonlight song.

  “I can't stay old man. There are some bad people looking for me. You and the boy aren't safe while I'm here.”
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  “That much is true. But we'll be safe for long enough to say what needs to be said. You'll stay here tonight. Those damned injuns won't travel this far in by night. Then tomorrow there's someplace you have to see. The big fella ain't too far away neither and so we'll keep our wits about us nonetheless.”

  “Care to tell me how you know so much about another man's business?” Jack found himself too tired to be anything but curious. For this man was indeed a curiosity.

  “You're not the only man who knows a little about father time.” And with that he was on his feet. “You can rest your eyes where you sit or take the dog's sack if he'll let you.”

  He scooped the boy up and put him on a wooden crate in the corner of the room. He put his own overcoat over the boy then went to the door, his rifle in one hand, his smoke in the other.

  Jack's eyes felt like lead weights. Maybe he could make some sense of this old man's ramblings in the morning. “Where will you sleep?”

  The old man turned as he opened the door, “I won't need sleep tonight son. I'm dreaming with my eyes wide open!” and gave a high chuckle as he went out into the night.

  Jack slept fitfully that night. His dreaming mind went back to a man in a white suit. The man grinned yellow snake teeth. He wasn't a man at all. The Devil himself pointed across the street at a face in an upstairs window. Jack saw his own lifeless face staring back down at him. Then the shutters slammed shut with a bang!

  Jack opened his eyes and sat up straight. His shirt was soaked through. The candle had burned to nothing. He saw the boy fast asleep in the corner. The dog's ears were pricked up and he was looking at the door. Its eyes were alert and its fur stood on edge. The dog had heard it too. Jack shushed the dog's whining and slid behind the door. Another crack! A gunshot.

  Jack crashed out through the door, the dog bounding after him. He almost fell over the old man who lay sprawled on the grass.

  “What in the name of heck are you playing at?” The old timer was up like a rattlesnake. Jack saw he had a rabbit by his feet. Another lay twitching maybe twenty yards from them. His rifle smoked from the barrel. Jack exhaled. Seemed the old man had been catching their breakfast.

  “Seeing as you're here now, I'm going to get me some shuteye. Remember how these work don't ya'?” he handed Jack a handful of rounds with the gun. “If it moves, shoot it. And I ain't talking about rabbits here. We've got plenty of them, yes sir.” The old fellow smiled and squeezed Jack's shoulder as he went inside. Judging by the colour of the sky, Jack thought the old man could get a couple of hours sleep before sun-up.

  Looked like it was his turn to keep watch. He crouched down low, his back to the house. The dog whimpered and sat next to him. His ears twitched as he sniffed the wind, keeping his own watch. Jack smiled to himself. He knew the dog could smell a man at over two miles. He hoped the old man was right and that he wouldn't have to. He was kind of curious about what the man needed to show him. He'd hate to have to leave before that happened.

  Black Book

  Part 3: The Wall

  Dylan Jones

  The 'Black Book' series is an epic tale of good against evil spanning several centuries; from the Old West to the Earth's fragile future.

  In his continuing quest for the Black Book, Jack joins forces with an unlikely pair of heroes; six year old Sonny and the boy's guardian, the mysterious old man. As Future forces conspire to end Jack's personal mission, old friends become enemies, and the future and past crash through to our present ...

  1

  The Ox rode west. He'd been moving west for a few days. Since he'd fired his gun point blank at a man and shot nothing but a ghost and the clothes on his back. But he knew where the man had gone. He knew exactly where to pick up the trail. He scratched his beard and wiped sweat from his brow. He'd already been stuck in this primitive hell hole for longer than planned. He'd landed a little earlier than the technicians had accounted for. A few months earlier than even he had expected. He'd had time to get his bearings. Made some new friends. Planned the ambush. It hadn't gone well but he never dwelled on failure. He lived by a simple rule. Always adapt immediately, find another way forward.

  There was no way in hell he could have calculated where and when Jack had leaped to, even if he had seen the dosage volume. Different people absorbed the blockers differently.

  But even so, he did know. He had seen the exact location marked on an electronic map that wouldn't exist for another 446 years. The blip they'd received. The reason the Ox had been sent here in the first place. The only marker Jack had flared up in over 12 months since he'd gone dark. The Ox had memorised it. Had sat up through the night before launch, burning it into his memory so that even after leaping, he wouldn't forget. He could still see the marker's glow in his mind. A slight deviation in the known values of space-time, pinged from the super-data bank and translated into simple schematics on their screens. A white beacon at the point of departure, a green one at the destination.

  The Ox had quickly seen what the scientists hadn't. A singular blip of time travel after so long in hiding. It meant a man forced to jump. Perhaps thrown into a situation he hadn't dealt with in a long time. A man taken by surprise. The Ox guessed that no man from 1862 was a match for an Elite of Jack's calibre. But someone from his own time might be. Someone trained as an Elite certainly would be. Someone like the Ox. He had known then that it would be his own early arrival that would cause Jack's sharp exit, with his trail blazing through time and across their future screens like a big neon sign.

  He gave the horse a nudge with his heels and felt its muscles powering harder underneath him. Far away on the horizon he could make out the western coastline, the late afternoon sun glistening off the waves. The Ox smiled and re-doubled his grip on the reins, and the horse thundered onwards.

  2

  Klaxons wailed through the space station's corridors. Far, far below, the Earth's scarred remains glinted in the sun's cool light.

  In the main lab, President Ben Freeman had torn off his tie and was using it to stem blood loss from a male technician's arm. It was only a graze, but the guy was out cold. The President checked the man's pulse. Stable. Seemed he'd taken a heavy fall during the synthetic's attack. The synthetic. For four years he had called Cal a friend and a trusted colleague. Now she lay burnt out and smouldering on the deck, still clutching the pistol she had meant to kill him with. Hair and skin had burned away revealing the cold steel of her skull. The three neat bullet entry holes in its base charred and smoking. All around them, static crackled and damaged machines sparked in blue bursts. Red emergency lights flung long shadows across the floor. A few smoking electrical conduits added to the effect. General Jim Daniels ran back into the room clutching a rifle and manually closed the entry doors.

  “What's the damage?” The President checked his watch as he spoke. Just over two minutes left.

  “Levels three and four are clear. We have a lot of personnel down and wounded. Seemed your friend left a hell of a mess on the way in.”

  “How long will these blast doors hold?”

  “Not long enough. We have to leave. Now.” The General looked like a man on the edge. His old training was at last kicking in but the President could tell he was struggling to accept his new situation.

  “Jim, we can't blast our way out with your old service rifle and two hand-guns. Those clear levels won't take us to a hangar and even those will be teeming with SWAT inside of 90 seconds.”

  Jim's face darkened. He clenched the rifle tighter.

  The President looked him in the eye. “Jim. There's only one way out of here for us now. How close to Jack can you get us?”

  “Christ, Ben!” The General's shoulders visibly sagged.

  “How close?”

  The General breathed in once then let it out sharply. “I could get within a couple of years at best.” He turned away with new found determination toward the control panels, rebooting switches and powering up the pods.

  “I can live with that
.” The President stripped his shirt off and tied it around his upper arm. He kicked open a supply cabinet and grabbed a medi-kit. He took out a needle and feeder tube, flexed his forearm, found a vein and made the insertion. He took two ampules of the concentrated nano-fluid from the kit and fed them into the tube. He held the end of the tube above his head to speed the flow. He threw a kit to the General. “Better get cracking Jim.”

  The General's hands were a blur as he re-activated the pods. “Just get in Ben, dammit. I'm right behind you.”

  Behind a two-way mirror above the launch gallery, a young Asian man in a dark suit closed his eyes. He pinched the bridge of his nose as if willing away a headache. Behind him, in the darkness, a wheelchair whirred forward a few inches.

  The man in the suit turned toward his boss and raised an eyebrow. The dark shape in the shadows nodded almost imperceptibly.

  The suit clicked a button on his analogue watch and spoke into the device.

  “Team B, green-light. Containment only. No casualties. Repeat, no casualties.”

  Elsewhere, deep in the bowels of the space station, a double-height set of doors screeched open on their runners and a dozen men in black combat gear spilled out. Ahead of them the long maze of corridors snaked toward the launch facility. They moved quickly and carefully, rifles loaded, safeties off.

  3

  The night lingered on until finally it gave way to red hued clouds in the East and beads of wet grass underfoot. Jack stretched out a crick in his back and automatically patted his pockets for phantom smokes. He'd regained most of his lost memories throughout the night, and most of his cravings too by the looks of things. He could once again feel the whiskey demon gnawing at his brain, like a gargoyle perched on his shoulder. He shrugged it away for now. Moved his mind elsewhere.