The Eternal Community

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The Eternal Community Page 1

by J Meverington




  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1 7

  Chapter 2 12

  Chapter 3 14

  Chapter 4 18

  Chapter 5 20

  Chapter 6 22

  Chapter 7 24

  Chapter 8 26

  Chapter 9 28

  Chapter 10 29

  Chapter 11 30

  Chapter 12 35

  Chapter 13 36

  Chapter 14 39

  Chapter 15 42

  Chapter 16 44

  Chapter 17 46

  Chapter 18 49

  Chapter 19 52

  Chapter 20 59

  Chapter 21 61

  Chapter 22 67

  Chapter 23 69

  Chapter 24 75

  Chapter 25 78

  Chapter 26 80

  Chapter 27 83

  Chapter 28 85

  Chapter 29 87

  Chapter 30 91

  Chapter 31 94

  Chapter 32 96

  Chapter 33 98

  Chapter 34 100

  Chapter 35 103

  Chapter 36 105

  Chapter 37 107

  Chapter 38 108

  Chapter 39 109

  Chapter 40 112

  Chapter 41 114

  Chapter 42 117

  Chapter 43 119

  Chapter 44 122

  Chapter 45 124

  Chapter 46 125

  Chapter 47 127

  Chapter 48 130

  Chapter 49 132

  Chapter 50 137

  Epilogue 139

  Note From the Author 141

  Prologue 143

  Acknowledgements for The Eternal Community 145

  The

  Eternal

  Community

  J. Meverington

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Text copyright © 2017 by J. Meverington

  Cover design © 2017 by ActionSnappers.com

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  The Community Series

  The Eternal Community is the second book in the Community series and can be read stand alone. If however you haven’t read The Secret Community and would like to read it first it can be purchased here.

  The Secret Community

  Or the UK Site here:

  The Secret Communuty - UK Site

  For Mike

  Chapter 1

  Present Time

  A lone silhouette stood upon the edge of the cliff. The sun had just set, leaving a backdrop of fiery reds. Damion started up the hill towards her, his lungs aching from the exertion. Stopping briefly to catch his breath, he looked up. She stood there, beckoning him.

  He continued, his breathing heavy and irregular as he placed one foot in front of the other, eager to reach the top. As he approached the brow of the hill she disappeared, darkness having snatched her from view. Had she fallen? He peered over the edge of the cliff, watching the waves as they broke on the rocks below.

  Suddenly a gust of wind swept over his skin, putting him off balance. He struggled to maintain his position, but it was too late. He toppled over the edge, hurtling towards his impending doom. Just before impact, he bolted upright in his bed, taking a moment to regain his bearings.

  The door had been blown open by the wind and a gale howled around his tent. Leonora slept quietly by his side, blissfully unaware of the terror of his dream. He climbed out of bed and checked on his children, Molly and Ben, who were sleeping in the next compartment. A wave of affection flooded him as he watched them.

  He stroked the hair of his five-year-old daughter as he pondered his dream, a recurring theme which had presented itself in his sleep more regularly in recent weeks. He couldn’t understand the cause of them; as far as he was concerned, his life was perfect.

  He crawled back into bed and snuggled into Leonora, relishing the warmth of her body as he tried to analyse his dream. He didn’t believe in signs or spirituality, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that he knew what they were about. The dreams had started after the birth of his daughter, five years earlier, and had been occasional back then, perhaps every month or two. But recently, over the last six months, they had become a weekly occurrence and now they came most nights. He’d never told Leonora about his nightmares as he didn’t want to worry her.

  His thoughts drifted back to the first day he met her. Never did he think he would end up settling down in a place like this. He’d always been interested in fast cars, modern technology and the running of his trendy bars in London. His holidays had been spent in five star resorts, only the best for him. In the past, the thought of camping would have filled him with dread.

  But now, here he was, living in a tent in a community without power. They got up at daybreak, and went to bed when it got dark. The times in between, everyone worked as a team to keep the place running, their main objective being to survive.

  ***

  The morning siren blared, interrupting him from his thoughts. He crawled out of bed and put on his leather skirt, something else he’d become used to. Back in London he had always dressed immaculately, but living in the Community he enjoyed the lack of clothing, the sense of freedom exhilarating. The simplicity of a skirt, sandals, and a leather coat if it got cold, made getting dressed in the morning a breeze. With the temperate climate all year round, the coat was rarely used.

  He left Leonora sleeping while he woke Molly and Ben and ushered them over to the breakfast tent. A smorgasbord of meats, cheeses, eggs and bread had been laid out on a banquet table, alongside a variety of fresh fruits. The three of them sat down, keeping a place free for Leonora in case she decided to join them, but more often than not she skipped breakfast, not being a morning person. She usually rose later on, a perk of being one of the Elders, and would raid the kitchen when no one was looking.

  ‘What are we doing today, Daddy?’ Molly asked.

  ‘We’re going on a mystery tour,’ he replied.

  ‘What’s a misstee taw?’ Ben, his three-year-old son asked, still struggling to pronounce his Rs.

  ‘It’s a surprise, you’ll have to wait and see.’

  Molly clapped her hands in excitement. ‘I can’t wait. Can we get Mummy out of bed now?’

  ‘No, now be patient my little chick-a-dee,’ he said, and patted her on the shoulder.

  The children finished up their breakfast and ran off to play. Damion lost sight of them but saw Matilda standing alone, so he walked over to her.

  ‘Morning Matty, have you seen my tin lids?’ He’d been teaching her some cockney rhyming slang.

  ‘They’ve gone off somewhere with Zac and Sally,’ she replied.

  Zac and Sally were Matilda and Ethan’s children, and they would be joining them on the mystery tour later on.

  ‘Here comes barney rubble,’ Damion said, as he saw Ethan striding towards them with a look of menace on his face. Matilda clapped her hand over her mouth and stifled a giggle at Damion’s cockney slang for trouble. Ethan didn’t like her talking to other men, so she probably was in trouble.

  Ethan glared at her, then spoke to Damion. ‘How long’s Leonora going to be? The children are getting impatient.’

  ‘Relax, she’ll be ready in her own good time. You know she’s not an early riser.’

  ‘Some of us have better things to do on our day off than sit around waiting.’

  ‘You watch your north and south young man and show
some respect,’ Damion said, and Matilda burst out laughing again at his cockney reference to mouth.

  Ethan glared at her again, then stormed off. What a jerk. Damion felt like punching him in the face, but he’d probably be kicked out of the Community and would never see Leonora or his children again. He unclenched his fists and took a deep breath.

  Damion thought of Matilda as a younger sister and felt protective towards her. He found her fun-loving nature endearing, and she always laughed at everything he said. Ethan treated her badly and she didn’t deserve that.

  About ten minutes later, Leonora came out of the kitchen and walked towards them.

  ‘Here comes the trouble and strife,’ Damion said, referring to Leonora as his wife. Matilda giggled again, but her face dropped as Ethan returned. Damion whispered in her ear, ‘Don’t worry about him, if he’s mean to you, he’ll be brown bread!’

  Molly, Ben, Zac and Sally came running over when they saw Leonora.

  ‘Right, are you all ready for a mystery tour?’ Leonora asked.

  ‘Yes please,’ the children and Damion cried out.

  ‘Okay. Follow the path to the forest, and don’t forget to search for clues.’ The four children ran on ahead, skipping and giggling, followed by Damion and Leonora, with Matilda and Ethan bringing up the rear.

  Molly found their first clue, a picture of a chicken painted on a stone.

  ‘To the chicken coop!’ she announced, and they all raced off, clucking like chickens as they went.

  At the chicken coop, a pile of eggs sat in the corner, also with pictures painted on, indicating they had to play catch with them without breaking any.

  The two older children, Molly and Zac, were gently throwing eggs to one another, when Zac lost his concentration and dropped one of the eggs, causing it to slime down his leg. He screamed then picked up an egg and threw it with force towards Molly, hitting her on the head.

  Matilda yelled out to her son, ‘Zac, that’s not nice, now you apologise to Molly!’

  Zac ignored his mother and picked up another egg, and again threw it at Molly. This time it hit her on her shoulder and slithered down her arm.

  Molly calmly walked over to Zac, picked up an egg from his pile, and cracked it over his head.

  Zac punched her in the arm and a scrap broke out between the two of them.

  Damion intervened. ‘Right, if you kids can’t play nicely, you can’t play at all. Now, go and get washed off!’ he yelled, and the kids raced off in the direction of the beach.

  Damion felt bad for Leonora; she’d gone to a lot of trouble to put together the games and Zac had ruined it. As they walked over the dune to the beach, Damion heard Matilda and Ethan arguing behind him. They seemed to be at it a lot these days and he couldn’t help thinking this might have something to do with Zac’s behaviour.

  Something about Ethan unnerved him. He turned towards them and shouted, ‘Knock it off you two, it’s our day off and we don’t want to listen to you carrying on! Your child has already ruined the games.’

  If looks could kill, he would have been shot dead by Ethan’s piercing eyes. Damion shuddered. Leonora touched him gently on the arm. ‘Hey, calm down. There’s no need to put the blame on anyone. Kids will be kids.’

  Damion relaxed at her touch. Overreacting wouldn’t solve anything, but something wasn’t right.

  ‘Did you see the way Ethan looked at me? That guy gives me the creeps.’

  ‘I wouldn’t worry about him, he’s harmless.’

  ‘Really? He’s always arguing with Matty, and is quite controlling. To be honest, he scares me, and I’m worried he might hurt her.’

  ‘It’s just him, he’s always been intense. He’s fiercely intelligent and Matty’s naivety irritates him, that’s all. Please relax, I don’t want it to ruin our day.’

  That was typical Leonora, always seeing the best in people. He should let it drop, but he couldn’t. ‘It’s still no reason to raise his voice to her.’

  ‘Damion, relax! You know what your problem is? London. I think you go back more often than you should. That place is no good for you.’

  This was true. He travelled back to London every six months or so, to catch up with family and to check on his bars in Soho, and he always came back stressed out.

  When they reached the beach, Leonora and Matilda took Molly and Zac down to the water to wash them off, while Damion and Ethan sat on the beach and made sandcastles with Ben and Sally. Damion had an artistic flair and the castle he was building with Ben was more elaborate than the one Ethan half-heartedly constructed with his daughter. Sally glanced over and saw Damion and Ben’s monstrosity, complete with water-filled moat, drawbridge, and flags made from shells.

  ‘Wow!’ she exclaimed, and came over to help decorate the castle with Ben.

  Ethan seemed put out. ‘Sally honey, what about finishing our castle first?’

  ‘Our castle’s dumb, this one’s much better.’

  A flash of anger flickered in Ethan’s eyes and a shudder ran down Damion’s spine. Could mental illness be passed down through the genes? He hoped not, for Ethan was a direct descendant of Martin Bickford-Smith and it would be disastrous for the Community if he turned out anything like that monster.

  Damion took a break from castle building and wandered down to the beach where Leonora and Matilda supervised the children. Watching his daughter giggle as she splashed around in the surf caused waves of affection to flow through him. Bad moods aside, he loved it here in this land of natural beauty with the love of his life, and his two beautiful children. What more could one want?

  But something nagged in the pit of his stomach, preventing him from wallowing in the contentment he so desired. For the past five years he’d had a lot of time to think, not having the distractions of the outside world. No matter how good things were, something in the back of this mind reminded him that life had not always been this ideal. He had not mentioned anything to Leonora as he didn’t want to worry her unnecessarily, but the nightmares had started coming thicker and stronger and he needed to take action for his own sanity.

  He believed Camilla, one of the chief Elders of the Community, held the key to his problem. He hoped she’d be willing to help.

  Just then, screams jolted him from his thoughts. He looked back towards the beach and saw Ben crying. Damion and Leonora sprinted towards him and found him sobbing his little eyes out, his sandcastle scattered in ruins. Young Sally sat watching, bewildered.

  ‘What happened?’ he asked, picking up his crying son.

  ‘He woo-end our castle,’ Ben cried out, pointing at Ethan.

  ‘Why? Why would you do that?’ Damion glared at him.

  Ethan stared back at him, no remorse in his eyes. ‘I tripped and fell on it. No big deal.’

  By this stage, Matilda had joined them, followed by two dripping wet children. ‘What’s going on?’

  ‘Nothing, I accidentally stepped on the sandcastle and Ben started crying like a baby,’ Ethan said, then scooped Sally up in his arms and stormed off.

  Matilda, with a worried look, shrugged, then rushed off after him with young Zac in tow.

  Damion continued to comfort his son, telling him they could build another one next time they came to the beach. This settled him down and the four of them headed back to camp.

  When they got back, Ethan apologised, saying he hadn’t meant to upset Ben, and asked if they would like to join them on a trip to the waterfall and swimming hole. They both declined as Leonora wanted a nap, and Damion wanted to speak with Camilla about his nightmares.

  He found Camilla lazing in a hammock beside the stream, happy to see her fit and well. Six years earlier she had been old and frail, having just recovered from kidney failure, but the Community lifestyle had been good for her.

  ‘Hello Damion, I thought you were spending the day with your family?’

  ‘We spent the morning at the beach, but there’s only so much time you can spend in the sun. Molly and Ben have gone to the swi
mming hole and Leonora is having an afternoon nap,’ he replied.

  ‘I’ve noticed Leonora has been sleeping a lot lately, are you sure she’s okay?’

  ‘She’s fine.’

  ‘Well, send her to me for a check-up. Won’t hurt.’ Camilla had been a doctor before coming to the Community, and she kept an eye on their health.

  ‘Will do. There’s something I want to talk to you about. Is now a good time to chat?’

  She nodded, and put down her book.

  Damion continued. ‘I’ve been having nightmares for about five years now, basically since Molly’s birth. They all follow the same theme and over the last few weeks they’ve become scarier and now I’m having them nightly.’

  Camilla nodded, indicating for him to continue.

  ‘The dreams always involve a girl who appears to be in trouble. She’s signalling for me to help, but whenever I get close, she disappears. I never see her face, she’s always silhouetted, or she has her back to me. At first I thought it was Leonora, and that something might be wrong with her, but now I’m not so sure. The dreams always end with me toppling towards my death and when I wake up, I’m left with a feeling of helplessness. Has anything similar happened to you since you moved here?’ he asked.

  ‘No, not at all. The complete opposite in fact. My nightmares stopped when I arrived. What do you think this is about, Damion? I get the feeling there’s something you’re not telling me.’

  He collected his thoughts before continuing. He needed to tread carefully, knowing it was a sore subject with Camilla. She probably knew where he was going with this, but he needed to be careful all the same.

  ‘Okay, you’re not going to like this, but I’ll tell you what I think. I love Molly so much and I can’t help thinking of the daughter I could have had. That we could have had.’

  Damion and Camilla had dated back in their school days. Then Camilla got pregnant and tried to abort their baby, not allowing him any say in the matter. When the abortion failed, she gave away their daughter to a couple who lived in America, once again without consulting him.

 

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