Time and Again – Chapter 6
‘Come on,’ he shouted again, but he knew it was too late to run. Harry dived at the girl, taking her around the waist and tumbling her to the ground. He lifted his head to see which way the attack was coming from so he could give maximum protection to her, using his body as a shield. The last thing he saw was the wing mounted machine guns spitting death in his direction. Some people say that the strike of a bullet isn’t painful; more a numbing thud with the pain coming later. For Harry the pain exploded in bright lights as the bullet struck his head, and as he fell back onto Lucy his vision narrowed down with alarming rapidity as blackness swamped him.
Time and Again – Chapter 20
As he approached the soldier’s one of them dropped his cigarette, stamped on it and threw up a sloppy salute. He was rewarded for the gesture with a vicious swipe from the cane or riding crop that the Officer held in his right hand. As he raised his hands to protect himself the Officer let forth a stream of verbal abuse that had the unfortunate individual standing to attention looking straight forward. This tirade was punctuated with an even more severe blow to the head but this time the victim did little more than flinch under the force of the impact. Brad saw a thin line of blood trickle down through his eyebrow and onto his cheek. The Officer had now shifted his attention to the other man and was screaming into his face. The soldier gave no response and the Officer turned as if to leave. A look of relief jumped onto the soldier’s face and, as if sensing this, the Officer swung around, putting all his momentum and force behind the cane as it flew round in a horizontal arc. It caught the unsuspecting individual high on the cheek and flayed the flesh open to the bone. Blood erupted from the wound and the soldier collapsed, sinking to the ground in an untidy heap. The Officer barked some new order as he turned and marched away. The standing soldier saluted smartly and quickly went over to the machine gun and started stripping it down. He paid absolutely no attention to his colleague who remained unconscious in the full heat of the sun that had now risen high in the clear blue sky.
Frozen in Time – Chapter 3
Suddenly the air around him started to crackle and the smell of ozone seemed almost to stifle him. Without warning, from the clear sky above, a greenish orange bolt crashed toward the square and Harry watched in slow motion as another, identical bolt, originated from the ring and leapt up to join it. The woman was immediately incinerated; seeming to almost melt before his eyes. He was vaguely aware of people in the crowd dropping to their knees and looking upwards whilst crossing themselves reverently. Others were backing away from the square trying to conceal themselves in the many side tracks that lead away from the bonfires. One man just stood, staring at Harry, seeming to look straight into his eyes with tears running down his face. As Harry watched, the stranger mouthed the words ‘thank you’ in English, then turned and left the scene of his mother’s violent death.
Frozen in Time – Chapter 47
‘Light,’ demanded Normanby. The guard complied, handing him a long rubber coated torch. Entering the narrow staircase Normanby switched on the torch and scanned his surroundings. The steps were wet and slippery; covered in a green algae that thrived in the damp conditions. Ahead of him was a single door at the end of a short passageway. Descending carefully he approached the door and tried it. It was locked from the inside. He rapped on the wood and waited.
‘Kindergarten.’
‘48th precinct.’
Two bolts were thrown back and the wooden door opened inwards to reveal a small room and Normanby was hit by a blast of foul smelling air. Dimly lit by a single bulb Normanby confronted the occupant standing before him, again armed with a machine pistol that was pointed at his midriff.
‘I’m Normanby, where’s Richardson?’
‘You’re talking to him,’ replied what could only be described as the thug blocking his entry into the room. Standing 6 feet 2 inches, Richardson made a daunting figure. His face was hardly visible under the curly black hair descending in locks from his large head mounted on a thick squat neck. The stubble of 3 – 4 days that covered most of his flesh did little to disguise the wicked looking scar that ran from just below his left eye, across his broken nose to finish on his lower right cheek bone.
‘Where are they?’
Richardson stepped aside and indicated with his weapon. Against the far wall was a set of wooden bunk beds, each with a rotting hair mattress and clean white sheets covering the bodies that occupied both tiers. Normanby walked slowly over, aware that the rotten odour was getting stronger with each step. He stopped and looked at the poor speciman in the lower cot. He was unconscious and had a large, livid bruise on the right side of his face. An intra-venous was connected up to his right arm and Normanby followed the tubes to a bag of saline drip. A second bag fed the smaller female limb on the top bunk. Both bodies were tied to the bed, and both were blind folded; precautions should they come round unexpectedly.
Time Waits for no Man (Work in progress) - Chapter 21
‘So what brings you to this place?’ asked Mendez sipping the sweet tea.
‘Well I was studying law at Cambridge, not far from the family home actually and was contacted by the War Office. They expressed the need for Intell Officers and so I joined up. I haven’t had an awful lot of training; just a basic course in combat and intelligence gathering, and here I am.’
‘And your interest in me? Does it go beyond my experiences in the trenches?’
‘What ever do you mean? How dare you suggest th … that I … I’ started a flustered Rutherford.
‘Come on man, I can see it in your eyes. That’s why you brought me here isn’t it; to seduce me perhaps.’ Mendez grinned at the blushing officer. ‘Why do you think I came?’
‘Oh, I erm I …’ Rutherford looked down at the hand upon his thigh not knowing how to proceed. Was he really that transparent? Could he actually bed this ruffian from the front line who was so different from the boys at college; so coarse, so unrefined? He looked in Mendez’ eyes and saw in that moment that indeed he could. He craved to be treated roughly; to be dominated by this filthy man with dirty skin and bad breath. He leaned forward searching for the others lips and his eyes flared open wide as Mendez thrust the knife deep into his guts, twisting the blade and renting his abdomen wide open. He fell back and looked at the spreading bloodstain at his midriff.
‘But … but …’
‘Shut up you faggot,’ sneered Mendez in disgust before sitting back in his chair and sipping his tea.
Time Waits for no Man (Work in progress) - Chapter 24
Laura lay on the king-size bed looking up at the white ceiling. The soft sounds of R.E.M filled the room as a single tear fell slowly down the soft skin of her face and into the pillow. She rested both hands on the bump just visible at her midriff and a quite sob escaped her lips as another set of tears set off on their journey to oblivion in the bedding.
She felt a deep seated elation at the news she was expecting twins but a deeper sorrow that Harry was not there to enjoy the moment with her.
‘If you’re on your own … in this life, the days and nights are long,’ she sang along to the music. ‘When you think you’ve had too much … of this life … to hang on….’
She turned onto her side and wept quietly as the next track of the album started. Gradually her sobs slowed and her breathing slowed to a rhythmic sigh indicating she had at last found sleep. The digital figures on the clock clicked over to 0327, bathing the room with a soft green light. But the sleep wasn’t the restful slumber she wanted, not the rejuvenating rest she so needed. Laura was dreaming.
… Laura was struggling through knee deep mud, the glutinous earth sucking at her bare feet making it nearly impossible to achieve any forward progress. She looked to both sides and could make out ghostly figures through the mist and smoke that clung to the landscape like a mystical blanket. Something black and furry scampered past her right foot and she screamed in fear as she watched the huge rat scuttle away into the dark. Her scream was lost in the thick swirling air and she noticed that silence surrounded her, sucking her into a claustrophobic envelope of terror and loneliness. The earth in front of her suddenly erupted into a fountain of foul smelling mud and detritus. It fell upon her; spattering her chiffon night dress that flowed in the light breeze sweeping across the desolate landscape.
She fell to her knees, her eyes wide with fear and looked into the empty eye sockets of a young face in the mud. The flesh was pale and rancid; peeling in places to reveal the shiny white skull beneath. The boy seemed to grin at her with impossibly large teeth; exposed as the gums and lips had rotted away or been gnawed by the ever present voracious rodents patrolling the battle field.
A hand gripping her under the arm cutting off the scream that stuck in her slender throat.
‘Come on lad,’ came a muted spectral voice from the thick smoke that was enveloping her. ‘Up and at ‘em.’
She turned to look at the figure that had helped her to her feet but found she was alone. She pressed forward into the dark and slowly the smoke thinned to reveal a mysterious looming figure just ahead of her.
‘Hello,’ she shouted, but the sound was lost in the thick cloying air that seemed to be sapping the strength from her body. ‘Hello!’ she screamed, louder this time. The figure turned to look at her and smiled as if in recognition. She couldn’t make out any features but the silhouette raised an arm and Laura pushed to reach it hoping she could draw strength from the anticipation of company. Before she reached him (she was sure it was a man) however, he jerked twice as if hit by some invisible force, and slumped to the earth; disappearing into the thick wet mud.
‘No!’ screamed Laura digging frantically in the filth trying desperately to locate her fallen saviour. ‘Nooo …’ She fell forward into the cold mud and felt it sucking at her body, drawing her flesh into a damp cold world. She pushed against it, but it seemed to be alive, dragging the light clothes from her body and wanting to tear the flesh from her bones. She managed to roll onto her back only to see the manic face of Mendez laughing down at her naked torso, a vicious bayonet held above his head ready to strike. She tried to move but the mire held her tightly spread-eagled under his gape. Laura screamed but no sound came and she watched in terror as he cast his eyes over her naked form. Her flesh was pale against the black mud, yet clean as if dowsed with water to remove the clinging earth. His vision drank in her naked flesh as he scanned down to her pale breasts, firm in the light of the moon that hung in the night sky. He relished her dark brown nipples as his eyes travelled across her belly to the light wisps of brown curly hair modestly covering her womanhood. Suddenly his eyes widened and his mouth gaped open and Laura averted her gaze in embarrassment as his scrutiny reached its ultimate goal.
She thought he could see everything but she was wrong. His eyes were unseeing. She looked up as a soft voice called her name and shrank back in horror as she watched the thick black blood frothing from Mendez’ mouth; a mouth that muttered silent words into the night. As he fell away she saw Harry smiling down at her with love and devotion written across his handsome face. She let out a sigh of relief and he bent down to pull her from the clinging filth and wrap her in a white cotton shift. She closed her eyes and leant against him feeling her body melt into his.
‘Move,’ a sharp voice commanded. Laura opened her eyes and squinted against the bright light that was flooding into the confined and crowded square. She stood in a line of similarly attired women, some still and quiet whilst others fought their bonds and screamed into the sunlight much to the delight of the gathered crowds. Pushed forward, she struggled against her shackles and quickly felt her body yanked off the ground by rough hands. Before she knew it she was tethered to a crudely cut pole that erupted from a large pile of tinder and logs, and flames leapt up around her bare feet as the bonfire was set alight by a masked man with a torch of wood and straw. Struggling against her bonds allowed her to free a hand, and as she raised it above her head to accompany the tortured scream that escaped her mouth, she saw a woven ring on her wedding finger reflecting the orange and red flames. She sucked in her breath, choking on the smoke that was billowing from around her feet and opened her mouth for another scream, but at that moment she saw the sky light up even brighter. As she watched, her hand seemed to dissolve into a green and orange light and the shocking pain erupted into a feeling of intense pleasure that coursed through her frame and burst from every orifice as a golden orange light.
She slumped forward and was suddenly cold; very, very cold. As she opened her eyes the bright sun scalded her retinas and she quickly squeezed them shut. She lay for a while and started to shiver as the heat was sucked from her body into the hard packed snow. In a moment of clarity Laura knew she was dreaming. She recognised she was moving through the different scenarios the ring had brought into her life one way and another. She’d had enough.
Leaping to her feet she looked across a small enclosed bay and saw a tall sailing ship contrasting against the dirty face of a high glacier.
‘Enough!’ she shouted, and in response a loud crack reverberated through the still cold air as a huge sheet of ice calved from the glacier and tumbled into the sea.
‘I said ENOUGH.’ The picture in front of her face shimmered in the bright sunlight and slowly began to fade. Laura smiled for a moment but felt it drop from her face as she saw her husband slumped against a tree surrounded by thick vegetation that was moving forward trying to envelope his shattered body. She saw a spreading blood stain on his thigh and he was clutching as a wound in his chest as a young girl that Laura knew to be Lucy clung to him crying.
‘Not now Laura,’ gasped Harry. Laura moved towards him with her heart in her mouth. She recognised the scene from Harry and Lucy’s description, but she had not witnessed this first hand and consequently felt that her soul was being wrenched from her body as her husband ‘died’ before her eyes. As she reached him she dropped to her knees and tore at the green tendrils that had already started to wrap around his legs, claiming him for the jungle.
‘Nooo …’ she moaned. She looked into his face and his eyes opened, only they weren’t grey. They were almost black. As she watched, his face transformed until she was staring into the eyes of their Spanish nemesis. She felt a sharp pain in her abdomen and looked down to see the revolver held against her belly. She looked back into his face as he squeezed the trigger.
Laura shot to consciousness. She stared at the white ceiling in her room in Helston. She turned her head and saw the green figures staring back at her. 0342. She twisted back and tried to push herself up from the bed. She couldn’t move. She could see, she could hear the wind outside the window blowing down the deserted high street, she could even smell her sweat in the fetid air of the bedroom, but she couldn’t move. She felt a weight on her abdomen pushing her into the mattress but could do nothing about it. She could turn her head and nothing more. She looked down her body again but could see nothing on her, yet she felt a presence upon her; holding her in place, fingers cruelly investigating the life in her belly. She opened her mouth to scream…
Laura sat up in bed. Her body was wet with sweat as were the bed-clothes around her, causing them to cling to her naked body like tendrils of dew dampened sphagnum moss in a secret forest. The sound of her scream seemed to be hanging in the air and the room was heavy with fear. She looked over to the clock. 0519. There would be no more sleep for her that night.
‘Oh Harry,’ she cried into the dark room. ‘Harry, where are you?’
