Worm Winds of Zanzibar (The Alex Trueman Chronicles Book 2)

by Martin Dukes

  “Hey, don't go trailing those on the floor,“ she told him. “Clean, those are.”

  “You haven't washed my other jeans, have you?” Alex asked, somewhat relieved not to find them.

  “I've told you I'm not washing anything else of yours until you pick them off the floor and sort out your room,” she said, partly at least for Mrs Armitage's benefit, who clucked indulgently and started on what seemed likely to be a lengthy anecdote about her own grandchildren's untidiness.

  Before she was fully into her stride Alex was pounding up the stairs to his bedroom, where his discarded jeans nestled between a floor cushion and a damp bath towel, exactly as he had left them.

  “Phew!” he said, running his hands down over his face. “Bless you, Mum!”

  The slip of paper was also exactly where it should be, somewhat soft and worn by now, but intact in all important respects. He flung himself onto his unmade bed and rolled over to gaze at the ceiling, the ecstasy of relief still tingling on his skin. Then, after a moment's hesitation, he pulled out his phone and entered the details into his contacts. When this was done he sat on the edge of the bed and studied the contact screen. Simply tapping the number now would be enough to call Kelly. But who was Kelly? The question that had never been far from the forefront of his mind since last Saturday swam sharply into focus once more. And why did it seem to matter so much? Outside, he could vaguely hear Mum's continued conversation with Mrs Armitage. A dog barked. A distant motorbike accelerated along the Micklebury Road. Seconds passed as Alex deliberated and the digits seemed to swell before his eyes. Why was he so reluctant to make the call? What harm could it do anyway? His finger hovered over the screen. He could always withhold his own number, but then there was the risk they might not pick up. They might block him out. No. It was decision time. Alex pressed the screen.

  The phone rang out. Alex found that he was holding his breath. He exhaled deliberately. At length the phone went to voicemail and Alex found himself listening to Kelly's voice.

  “Hi, this is Kelly. I'm not around right now, but leave me a message and I'll get back to you as soon as I can.”

  Another voice, this time a recorded one, reiterated the invitation for Alex to leave a message. He hit the ‘end call’ button and slumped back against the wall, throwing the phone onto his pillow. The voice had been familiar, but in what context? There was hardly time to deliberate upon this before the phone rang, alarmingly loud in the silence of his room. Alex let it ring three times before picking up.

  “Hullo,” he said, cautiously, conscious that his heart was suddenly racing.

  “Did you just call this number?” asked a girl’s voice, the voice he had to assume was Kelly's.

  “Yeah... is that... Kelly?

  “Yeah, who is this?”

  “Alex.” He found himself unable or unwilling to add to this.

  “Alex?” she repeated. The tone was uncertain, but it was a voice that was familiar. There was a brief pause. “Do I know you?” she continued.

  That was the crucial question, of course.

  “I think so,” he said. “But I don't know how. It's weird...”

  “Well, how did you get my number?”

  “Someone gave it to me... a stranger.”

  There was another pause, a lengthy one. Alex began to wonder if they had lost the line.

  “I think we need to meet,” said Kelly at last.

  It was chilly in the park on Saturday afternoon. The weather forecast had mentioned showers clearing by lunchtime but a tardy squall tugged at Alex's hair as he walked down past the war memorial, and the pavements were still irregularly puddled down in the dip around the pool.

  “Where did you say you'd meet her?” asked Henry, who had come along for the company and to be an interested witness to some of the general oddness that seemed to have infected Alex recently.

  “Down by the swings and stuff,” grunted Alex, his stomach queasy with a strange anxiety that owed nothing to his usual awkwardness around girls.

  “This is sooo cool,” said Henry, who had now been briefed about the circumstances of the imminent encounter. “It's like a romantic novel or something.”

  “No it is not,” retorted Alex hotly. “It's nothin' like that at all. Anyway, you'd better make yourself scarce now. I told her I'd be coming alone.”

  “You got it,” said Henry with a mock salute. “I'll hang around behind the changing rooms. Take it steady now, Romeo.”

  Before Alex's flailing fist could connect with him, Henry was away, laughing over his shoulder, his diverging course taking him off across the wide open space in front of the bandstand.

  The park was not as busy as it usually was on a Saturday afternoon, but dog owners were inevitably out in force, regardless of the elements, and there was a scatter of teenagers on bikes, and parents with young children throwing bread to the ducks through the railings around the pool. There were red painted railings around the play equipment, too, and here a lone female figure was waiting as Alex approached past the changing rooms used by players on the nearby football pitches. She had her back to him initially but turned as he came up beside her.

  They regarded each other with undisguised curiosity. There was something elfin about her features, he decided, framed by the damp chestnut hair that spilled from around her hoodie.

  “Alex?” she asked in a voice that was instantly familiar.

  “Yeah,” he nodded. “I guess you’d be Kelly then… So what’s goin’ on?”

  “Search me!” she shrugged, swivelling to lean her back against the railings but looking at him sidelong with large brown eyes that were rather more than familiar. A lump came into Alex’s throat. “We know each other though, don’t we?” she said. “That’s what’s so weird. I know that I never saw you before in my life, but I feel that I’ve known you for ages.”

  “Tell me a bit about yourself,” suggested Alex. “We have to start somewhere. Maybe something’ll ring a bell.”

  He felt none of the debilitating shyness he should have felt in the presence of a pretty girl – and one who was ostensibly a stranger, too.

  She shrugged and filled him in about her age, family, school and friends. He did the same for her.

  “I don’t know any of that stuff but I definitely know you,” said Kelly frowning. “I don’t know how but I do. There’s something funny going on. I knew who it was as soon as you called.”

  For a few moments they stood in companionable silence, studying each other thoughtfully but with a frankness that would have been inconceivable between strangers. Kelly picked at a loose thread on the cuff of her hoodie.

  “I think something happened to me on Saturday,” Alex told her at last, thinking hard. “It was definitely Saturday. I’ve felt, you know, sort of peculiar ever since. What about you?”

  “Yeah, it was,” she agreed, regarding him with sudden intensity. “Saturday, I mean. There was a really bad accident, wasn’t there? Some guy got killed in a crash on the ring road… I was there... Nearly took me with him, too. Really shook me up, it did. I was with Jess, the girl I was just telling you about.”

  “I know, I saw it too,” said Alex eagerly. “Well, not exactly. I saw it just after, when the cops were coming over to it and the ambulance was on its way. I didn’t actually see the crash. At least I can’t remember seeing it. I think I must have had some kind of blank for a few moments. I was with my mum in Wardworths and then I was standing by the ring road and the crash had just happened. Everyone keeps tellin’ me it’s shock or something.”

  He shook his head slowly. “I don’t know. I just can’t work it out. And then this guy gives me a bit of paper with your number on.”

  “I had a kind of black out too,” said Kelly slowly, looking past Alex’s shoulder and then fixing wide brown eyes on him once more. “More a blank out really, I guess you’d say. There’s something going on, Alex. There is, isn’t there?”

  She regarded him seriously.

  Alex became aware of a S
aint John’s Ambulance van, parked next to the changing rooms. Three of its crew were approaching across the intervening stretch of pitted tarmac and concrete. Something about them made him uneasy, so much so that he lost track of what Kelly was saying to him. Two of them were burly, dark-haired fellows with swarthy complexions. The other was a woman, a good head shorter but somewhat stockier, too. Neither of the two men seemed a natural fit for a practitioner of first aid. Bouncer or hit man seemed more their style, Alex decided, going on to tell himself that appearances were often very deceptive.

  “Are you Alex Trueman?” asked the shorter of the two men.

  “Yeah,” conceded Alex, cautiously, as Kelly turned to face them.

  Without hesitation the ambulance man raised his arm and pointed a smooth grey object at Alex. Immediately Alex felt all of his muscles relax. Shock and confusion raced across his brain, even as he toppled sideways to the ground. The ambulance man lunged forward, just in time to cushion his fall and stop his head from flopping onto the concrete slabs. Alex found that he was completely paralysed, unable to speak, unable to twitch a finger. Panic took hold of him. What had happened? Had he had a stroke? Had he been shot? He was aware of shouting. Kelly’s voice was raised, shrill above the low and urgent tones of the taller ambulance man who was trying to calm her down. The woman was joining in with this too, taking hold of Kelly’s arm and trying to move her away.

  “What did you do?” he heard Kelly demand, her voice suddenly shrill. “I saw you do something to him!”

  “No you didn’t. You saw him faint, that’s all.” The man had her other arm and there was something of a struggle going on as Kelly tried to reach Alex.

  “We’ll have to get him to the ambulance,” said the man cradling Alex’s head, making a passable pretence of checking for his pulse. “He’s out cold, I’m afraid.”

  Alex’s view of the world was necessarily constrained, but suddenly there was another voice, Henry’s, breathless after his sprint across from the changing rooms.

  “Hey! What did you do to him?”

  “Nothing, I assure you, sir. It’s a simple faint. He’ll come round in a minute, if we get him into the ambulance.”

  “You saw it too?” demanded Kelly of Henry.

  “Yes! There’s something going on. Hey! What are you doing?”

  Alex felt himself being swept up in the big man’s arms.

  “It’s for his own good. Let me past, young man.”

  “I won’t! Put him down! Help!” Henry’s voice was loud now, thoroughly alarmed. Alex imagined heads swivelling amongst the casual dog walkers and duck feeders in the vicinity.

  There were grunts, the sound of a scuffle, Kelly’s shrill scream and then a blinding flash. Alex was suddenly on the ground, dazed from an agonising blow to the side of his head. Silence ensued, broken only by the thick beating of the pulse in his temple. Grit pressed painfully into his nose and eye socket.

  “Hang on a mo’,” said another voice, a familiar one.

  “What’s going on?” This was Henry, thoroughly shocked now, a querulous note in his voice that suggested imminent panic, with difficulty suppressed.

  “Is he alright?” asked Kelly, her pale face swimming into Alex’s view.

  “Oh yes, he’ll be fine,” said the new voice matter-of-factly. “Let me just get at the back of his head.”

  Alex felt a cool pressure on the back of his head and then a sudden rush of sensations, physical and mental. It was as though he had pins and needles all over his body. Nevertheless, as this subsided he found that movement was restored, gradually at first but then with gathering strength. Memories were flooding back, too.

  “Malcolm,” he said.

  “That’ll be me then,” said the angel studying the surface of the smooth grey stone that he had just pressed against Alex’s scalp. “All coming back to you, is it?”

  It already had. The missing chunks of his memory were back in place. Like a tongue unconsciously exploring teeth he hurriedly surveyed these recollections, even as his mind got on with wondering what the hell was going on.

  “What the hell is going on?” he asked, staggering to his feet and glancing around urgently.

  Henry was standing immobile, ashen-faced, eyes as wide as saucers. He didn’t look as though he was going to be capable of coherent speech any time soon. Kelly was still down on her haunches, hands clasped behind her head. She looked up at Alex but her eyes seemed unfocused. Alex guessed she was reliving her own restored memories.

  “I suppose I owe you an explanation,” said Malcolm, supposing correctly, scooping up a few small objects from the ground. Where the three ambulance crew had been, there were only a scatter of uniforms, lying as though the bodies had suddenly vanished from inside them.

  A gesture sufficed to signal Alex’s curiosity as to their fate.

  “What – them? Banished,” said Malcolm with a shrug, as though this were explanation enough.

  “Dead?”

  “Nooo! Did I say dead?”

  “What is going on?” Alex asked again. “You have to tell me what is going on, Malcolm. Malcolm!”

  “Hmm?” The angel was looking again at the grey stone, stroking a forefinger along its edge.

  “OMG! This is ‘Sticia, isn’t it?” This was Kelly, suddenly coming to terms with her surroundings.

  She was right. The park and its various inhabitants were frozen into immobility. Sparrows hung motionless, mid-flight between bushes. But there was something different. The air seemed to shimmer between the four of them and the frozen world beyond.

  “Yes,” said Malcolm, weighing six small objects in his hand. “Yes it is, but a different bit of ‘Sticia. Different moment, of course.”

  “I’m scared,” said Kelly in a voice that trembled on the edge of control. ”I want out of here, Malcolm.”

  “Alex,” said Henry. “ALEX!”

  “You’re going to have to shut up and listen,” said Malcolm, raising both hands. “We actually don’t have a lot of time.”

  Malcolm was exactly as Alex remembered him. His suit was creased and rumpled, his goatee beard very slightly lopsided. He tugged at this absently now as he got on with outlining the situation for his small but highly attentive audience.

  “This,” he gestured around them. “Is a Reality Bubble. Essentially I had to take the little chunk of reality around Alex and temporarily freeze it. It takes up a lot of energy and I’m not going to be able to keep it going a lot longer, I’m afraid. The important thing is you’re completely safe as long as it holds.”

  “Safe from what exactly?” asked Alex, thoroughly alarmed. “And who were those guys? It looked like they were trying to kidnap me or something.”

  “Yes, they were,” said Malcolm nonchalantly.

  “I knew they were,” said Kelly, straightening up at last. “But what did they want with Alex?”

  “Well, I can assure you they weren’t planning to slap a few bandages on you,” said Malcolm. He glanced down at the stone. “Oops. Time really is running out, guys.”

  He indicated the area of shimmering air around them, which seemed to have shrunk somewhat. There were occasional sparks and disturbances across the surface now.

  “You might want to shuffle in this way a step or two,” he said to Henry. “You don’t want to go touching that.”

  Henry came across to Alex’s side, keeping a wary distance from the angel.

  “I’m not liking this,” he muttered to Alex. “Get him to stop it, whatever he’s doing.”

  “Come on, Malcolm. You’ve got to give me more than that,” said Alex, moving things on. “What’s going to happen now, anyway?”

  Malcolm sighed and spread his hands wide.

  “It seems you were more important than we thought. Any of us. There really isn’t time to go into it now but the thing is there are certain people out to get you, you see. Certain quite powerful and dangerous people, that is.”

  “Why?” demanded Alex in aggrieved tones. “What have
I done?”

  “It’s not so much what you’ve done as what you are,” said Malcolm. “Anyway, I can fill you in on all that stuff later. For now, I’ve got to get you guys to a place of safety. As soon as this bubble goes pop, everything inside it gets atomised. I can’t drop the contents back into this reality without leaving a really obvious trail. He stroked his beard a bit more, regarding the shrinking energy bubble disapprovingly. “Hmmm.”

  Kelly and Henry stepped closer to Alex. The bubble was only a few metres across now and the top of it barely cleared Malcolm’s head. Becoming conscious of this, he ducked.

  “Oh dear! Looks like it’s now or never. This has got to be pretty much a stab in the dark, I’m afraid. In a minute this thing’s going to vanish. So will you. You’ll end up somewhere else. I can’t say for sure where it’ll be but it’ll definitely be terrestrial and atmospherically and climatically survivable. I can’t say much more than that. You’ll be okay for a bit until I can sort out something more long term.”

  He reached out and pressed a number of small objects into Alex’s hand.

  “You guys might be needing these,” he said. “Pop ‘em in your ears. Translators, see… very useful bits of kit.”

  Stepping forward and putting a hand on Alex’ shoulder he looked him earnestly in the eye.

  “You’re something a bit special,” he said. “I mean real special. That’s what the big issue is. But how special? I guess you’ve got to find that out for yourself.”

  “What do you mean?” demanded Alex, thoroughly alarmed.

  The bubble wobbled and shrank some more. Kelly gasped and grabbed Alex’s arm with painful force.

  “I’ll be in touch,” said Malcolm, tapping what might have been a bracelet on his wrist.

  There was a sudden dizzying lurch and a disagreeable sensation of being turned inside out. The world shrank to a tiny dot in the midst of an immense void, spangled with pinpricks of light. Sinuous iridescent shapes writhed around him, pouring from his fingertips, eyes, hair, mouth and nostrils. The darkness was succeeded by blinding light, an unbearable sensation of crushing weight, one of falling head over heels through emptiness and finally darkness once more. His consciousness faded into the abyss and was lost.