She swerved to the left and then back to the right. The scrub was only a few paces away. The insects could not fly in there. One-Eye ducked her head low, and screeched triumphantly as she disappeared into the thick gorse. She was safe.
***
“Damn it!”
“What’s wrong?” Jake turned to the other hunter, lowering his high powered rifle so that it was level with his hip.
“The big one, she escaped. She would have fetched a fortune. Did you see the way she stood up to the other one?”
“Yeah, it’s a shame, she was a real beauty.” Jake stood up from his crouched position behind the trees. As he moved towards the clearing, he pointed at the other fallen velociraptors. “Better get them bagged and tagged quickly, that neurotoxin won’t last forever. We have to get out of here in the next five minutes.”
The trees swayed above him, revealing a bright orange ball that lit up the sky. “That comet’s approaching fast. It’s going to hit our position in about twenty minutes, and I don’t want to be here when it does. Bud, did you hear me? ...Bud?”
When Bud didn’t answer, Jake turned to see if something was wrong. The other man was about eight paces behind him looking down at the velociraptors, his face contorted with confusion.
“They’re not as big as I thought they’d be, but they sure are ugly. They look like big turkeys with all those feathers. Are you sure they can fight?”
Jake found himself grinning. “Of course they can fight. Do you see those three inch claws on the back legs? They use those to stab and tear at their opponents in the same way that fighting cocks use their spurs. They can make one hell of a mess of each other with those things.”
“Only these buggers have teeth as well.”
“Yeah, razor sharp. And a nastier disposition. I know a certain consortium of Chinese gamblers who’ll pay us a pretty sum to watch two of these babies rip each other to pieces.” Jake grinned, “They may be part of a pack now, but you wait and see what happens when they’ve been starved for a couple of days. It should be brutal.”
Bud chuckled, “Can’t wait.”
Jake checked his watch. “Time’s ticking by. Use the tracker to recover any missing darts. You know the Time Agency’s rules; we can hunt these things, but we’re forbidden to leave anything behind that could disrupt the space-time continuum. We have to check our equipment in, and then back out again once we arrive on the other side.” He pointed at the sleeping velociraptors. “While you’re collecting the darts, I’ll get these oversized turkeys in the transport bags and we can get out of here. The heat’s already building up.”
Bud’s face creased inquisitively. “But won’t taking these reptiles back with us affect the space-time thingy?”
“No, not at all. When that comet collides with Earth, it’ll be like a couple of hundred nuclear bombs going off at once. There’ll be nothing left but a bloody big crater, which is why the Time Agency allows us to shoot and kill anything we like. These ‘raptors are doomed either way. Travel a mile in any direction, and you’ll bump into another couple of guys doing a spot of hunting, just like us.” Jake smiled slyly, “The difference between them and us though is that we’ll be taking ours back with us and not leaving them here. We just have to make sure the Time Agency doesn’t find out what we’re doing or we’ll both be facing lengthy jail time. They can be pretty anal about that sort of thing.”
“So what’s to stop them arresting us when we pass through the portal carrying half a dozen sleeping reptiles?”
“Bud, trust me. I’ve got a customs official on the other side who’ll just wave us though, no problem.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“For what I’m paying him, I’m bloody positive. And Bud...”
“What?”
“They’re not reptiles, they’re warm bloodied. They’re more like birds.”
Bud grinned again, “Yeah, bloody big cockerels, but with teeth.” As he turned to Jake, he furrowed his brow. “So if this place is going to be destroyed in the next twenty minutes, and you’ve got a man on the other side, why do I need to collect the darts?”
Jake shrugged. “I don’t suppose it makes that much difference. Fuck it. Let’s go.”
***
From somewhere in the bushes, a single eye watched as the two hunters bagged up the fallen velociraptors. One-Eye’s primitive brain told her that the two strange creatures were taking the pack so that they could eat them later. She remained hidden.
A few minutes later, a low rumble preceded a bright light that appeared from nowhere. Suspended in the air, the light grew in size and intensity. A tear appeared in the fabric of reality which grew larger by the second. Within moments, the portal had ripped open the present and had become a pathway to the future.
One-Eye watched as the two hunters passed their bags into the portal before stepping through. The gaping hole disappeared almost instantly behind them.
She cocked her head towards the sky. The comet was much closer now, and the surface temperature of primeval Earth was rising sharply. The velociraptor could feel her body burning up and she sagged under her protective bush, exhausted from the heat. Her breathing became shallower, and she closed her one good eye. She was dying. Although her skin and plumage felt warm to the touch, it was the fever within which had overpowered her. The alpha-female had contracted avian influenza. But she was not the only one.
Somewhere, sixty million years in the future, the smallest member of the pack, Three-Toes, began to sneeze. She was still asleep, safely stored within the transport bag. Very soon Jake would meet up with his ‘friends’, the Chinese gangsters, and open that bag. Not only would he then release Three-Toes, but also the airborne virus that she carried on a totally unprepared and unsuspecting world.
Coming to Terms
By Jacqueline Pye
In the four ghastly months since it happened, this was the first time her face had showed real delight.
“Guess what?” she asked him breathlessly.
“Tell me.”
“We’ve had hedgehogs in the back garden. Well, one, at least!”
She dragged him by the elbow to have a look. A small piece of dark, shiny excrement near the pan of water left out for the birds, and he tried hard to look impressed. She assured him it was left by a hedgehog. He wondered how she knew.
An interest in wildlife could be a turning point, Robin thought then. The loss of their four-year old daughter in April had completely devastated her, to a degree beyond Robin’s comprehension. Their doctor assured him that eventually she would begin to look outwards at the world once again, but in the meantime their relationship had seemed to be on hold, in more ways than one. Of course, he had been absolutely gutted too, and still was – little Chloe had, after all, been their only child. It remained raw, and they rarely mentioned it now, but he had returned to work and she had not.
That evening, from across the room, he watched her feverishly trawling the internet and eventually he had to ask.
“Looking up hedgehogs, Jess?”
She tapped a few more keys before looking across at him. “No – trailcams.”
“What’s a trailcam?”
She beckoned him to look at what she’d found, and explained that the trailcam was a movement-activated recorder for capturing wildlife activity within its range. He thought it was expensive, but it would be worth it, if it helped her to come to terms with her loss. He hoped for another child.
The trailcam arrived three days later while Robin was out, and she tore open the package. The instructions were complex, but she worked her way through them, sorting out the settings one by one until it was done. Subconsciously, she wanted this to be totally her own project, and she wandered around the garden deciding where to fix the pole and how to attach the trailcam to scan the area.
Robin was delighted to find that she’d set it all up, and they had a bottle of her favourite Gavi with dinner. They drank to the hedgehog.
The next mornin
g, for the first time in ages, Jess was up first and brought him tea in bed. There was a sparkle in her eyes, and she told him she might start looking out for bats during the late summer evenings. Seeing her like this, he hated himself for constantly hoping for a revival of their sex life, but he couldn’t deny it. He put an arm around her.
“Come back to bed for a few minutes? I don’t have to leave for an hour.”
She froze for a moment, then started to dress. She said she had ‘things to do’. He sighed and drank his tea. He promised to look at the memory card from the trailcam with her when he got home.
As soon as he’d gone, Jess dashed out into the garden and retrieved the card. Just as they used to do with the cards from their cameras, looking through holiday and family photos, she slotted it into the side of the television and waited. It flagged up one file. Might it be the phantom hedgehog? More likely one of the neighbourhood cats prowling around, searching out any mice or shrews that might be out and about. She opened the file.
The trailcam had, indeed, captured a fleeting visit of the hedgehog, and she thought about putting some food out for it that night. But, oddly, the garden behind it looked a little misty, as though there was a smudge on the lens. She ran the thirty-second long piece again with the same result, and noted with satisfaction that she’d set the date correctly, August 26th.
Robin was surprised and impressed that she’d viewed the night’s recording already; he hadn’t been especially interested, himself, in news about the hedgehog except that it seemed to energise her. It was enough to hear about it from her.
Predictably, the trailcam was to be kept in operation every night, even when it rained. And it did rain. Jess cleaned the lens carefully, but three days later there had been no further ‘sightings’; Robin wondered aloud whether it was worth keeping going with it. Jess was horrified and he immediately backtracked.
On the evening of the 30th it was raining hard, but the instructions insisted the cam was all-weather.
The next morning Jess’s routine – seeing Robin off to work before checking the memory card – continued. Again there was no hedgehog, but then she noticed something. There was no rain to be seen on the recording, and the date was wrong – August 20th. This was frustrating. But wait – the misty patch had returned ten seconds into the clip, and seemed to be taking some kind of shape.
Jess shivered. Maybe Robin was right and she was having more difficulty than she’d thought in ‘coming to terms’. Surely she wouldn’t need outside help? But if she was imagining things which weren’t there, well maybe. She ran the file again, same thing. She took the card from the television and replaced it in the trailcam. For once, at 9.30 in the morning she poured herself a small brandy, and then sat down to check the instructions for setting the date. She was sure it had been right the first time, but best not to mention the glitch until she’d had a chance to sort it out. When she checked the settings, though, they seemed to be correct.
Two nights later, the shape had reappeared. This time, Jess was sure it was taking a human shape, though still unclear. She ran it twice more before remembering to check the recorded date: July 20th. She felt dizzy and sick, and refused to let in the thought that was beginning to form in her mind. The shape, the date – this was getting out of hand. She was, as he would say, losing it. She decided to tell him and make him look, leaving the memory card next to the screen.
On his return, Robin was shocked to see the change in Jess. He carried on as normal, but watching from the corner of his eye and waiting to see if she would confide in him. She offered nothing except a robotic preparation of the evening meal, and eventually his frustration forced his hand.
“You OK, Jess? You seem a bit, what can I say, on edge.”
She hesitated. Was this a good time? Maybe there wouldn’t be another opportunity.
“There’s something I want you to see from the trailcam. I won’t tell you what – I’d like you just to watch and give me your impression.”
“Fine, if you’ve found something interesting.”
“I think I have.”
They sat together and she held his hand.
“Well, for a start, the date’s been set wrong.”
“Just watch.”
The half-minute piece played again, and Jess gripped his hand more tightly as she watched the shape. He looked puzzled at the strength of her, but kept watching.
“What’s to see? The hedgehog never came – but don’t let’s lose any sleep over it.”
For the first time in her life, Jess fainted.
***
She came round to find herself lying on their bed. He was sitting with her, telling her that she would need help for sure, especially now that her physical health was obviously suffering. He had not seen the shape.
The trailcam showed nothing over the next few days, other than the hedgehog one night and the neighbours’ tabby cat a couple of times. She began to doubt herself once more, and realised she had not been eating well enough.
Then it happened again. This time, the file was dated June 20th and the shape was definitely human. It seemed to take a step towards the camera and was beginning to clear. She was most certainly not imagining it now, but she knew that Robin would not see it and did not ask him. She wrote down August 20th, July 20th, June 20th. Chloe had died in that pointless, terrible road accident on April 20th. Would May 20th be next? And then what?
Three nights later, there was more. Jess had expected the file to show May 20th, and gave only brief attention when it did. The shape had further cleared, and again it had taken a step towards the lens. She could not believe what she was seeing – and yet, was this what subconsciously she had expected? The little girl looked solemn, and so like Chloe that just a trace of a smile appeared amongst the tears flowing down Jess’s face.
That afternoon, Robin came home early. Unable to concentrate on work, he’d fled the office and promised himself that he’d spend more time with Jess, trying to understand what was happening to her and hoping to persuade her to talk again with their doctor. He was surprised to find her asleep on the sofa. Her eyes were puffy and her face streaked, but she had a strange look, more peaceful than he had seen for all of those four months. He touched her cheek and she awoke. They looked at one another in silence for a few moments.
In the night, Jess’s dreams were untroubled. She was on a beach, in a garden, at a restaurant, in a car, but always with Robin at her side. In the early hours, she woke and watched him as he slept. Her arm, wrapping around his shoulder, alerted him and he turned towards her, opening his eyes and looking at her with his unspoken question. Then she softened in his arms and they made love slowly, tenderly, both willing partners in this tentative move towards restoring their relationship.
***
Adjusting to the pattern of the trailcam apparitions, Jess expected a delay before the next time, so in the morning she did not hurry to check for a new file. Although she was totally and intensely involved now, and panicking at the thought of what the next recorded date would be and what it would mean, part of her wanted to know what the progression would bring. She’d started to hope that their lovemaking might be the start of a healing process for her and for Robin, and did not want anything to derail them.
Later that day, though, she could no longer resist. The new file was dated, yes, April 20th, the catastrophic date that had destroyed her life. She felt acidic vomit rise in her throat and struggled to keep control. But she could not take her eyes off the screen.
The figure had fully cleared now. A little girl holding – what was it? Jess looked closely - a small hedgehog rolled into a ball. The girl looked at the camera and approached, holding the hedgehog in her hands, arms outstretched towards the lens. She smiled and then started to step backwards.
“No!” Jess shouted. “Don’t go. Don’t leave us. Chloe? Oh, Chloe.” But the girl gradually became just a misty shape and slowly disappeared. Jess sat looking at the screen for a moment, and then with a shaking ha
nd she removed the card from the television. “Thank you, Chloe,” she whispered.
***
Robin was taking leave so that they could be together. His joy was not for the physical aspect of their relationship – which was still erratic – but for the change in Jess. She looked at him in a different way, spoke softly to him, and sat in the garden with him in the quiet of twilight. She spent long hours during the day on the bench on the lawn with a book, sometimes in some faraway place, but always with a smile for him. And the trailcam was packed away.
During late September, she was sick a couple of times after feeling nauseous for a few days. He didn’t pick up on it as quickly as she did, but soon afterwards. They hugged one another, and as they pulled apart he asked, in desperate hope,
“Jess, are you sure you’re ready?”
“For what?” She hoped she understood him correctly.
“For another child, and … to talk to our doctor now?”
She looked into his eyes. “Both, I think.”
A Time to Die
By Paul Murphy
Jack Brannigan stood on the cliff top, the vastness of the windswept English Channel spreading out before him. Foaming rollers pounded the rocks below in a rhythmic cycle, mesmeric in their continuity. He closed his eyes and shoved his hands deep into his pockets as heavy, grey clouds scudded low overhead, releasing a thin drizzle which soaked through his coat. The cold January wind slanted the rain and bit deep into his bones. Tears tumbled continuously down his cheeks, mixing with the raindrops, before being plucked from his chin by the wind.
His time in this world was running out. He had known for a while, deep down, but didn’t want to believe it. The sensations he was now feeling would be gone forever, soon enough, and he would cease to exist, becoming part of the earth once again.
Temporal Tales Page 2