Portal

by Fred Alvrez

  “I don’t know. He wanted to go off the grid, so sorry, guys, I have no idea what we are in for.”

  Wiremu and Nathan looked at each other, then back to the road.

  In less than an hour, they’d know.

  As Nathan drove on, the road got worse and worse, with huge gouges where the rain had washed it out and slips that had almost stopped their progress.

  The Range Rover crawled at times as they climbed the hill that led into the Ahipara Gumfields.

  “Casey,” Amy said. “When you mentioned your dad wanted to go off the grid, I didn’t think you meant away from all civilization.”

  “I didn’t know what extent he’d go to. He’s talked about doing this ever since I was a little girl. Spoke of it like it was a fact he was going to live somewhere remotely. He even spoke of Ahipara. I don’t know why but he had it fixed in his mind to come here. Maybe to live out his days, I don’t know.”

  At last they wound down a hill that gave them a view right up Ninety Mile Beach. The arc of the beach’s curve made it seem like it would go on forever, pushing away from them to the north where it didn’t seem to end.

  “Wow, would you look at that! That’s a million-dollar view right there. You can even see the surf from here, Nate,” Wiremu said.

  “It’s pretty incredible. Casey, how far to go?”

  “I’m not sure. I’ve never been here.”

  Nathan stopped the car. “Then how do you know where we’re going?”

  “I don’t really. I just had a picture of it in my mind. I’m sort of certain we’re almost there.”

  Nathan drove on slowly over the bumpy track.

  Kevin looked at Casey. “You’re not giving me much confidence here, Casey, but I trust you.”

  She ruffled his fur. “Thanks, Kevin. Look, there’s the house.”

  All looked ahead to see a log cabin tucked into the hill and surrounded by trees, and bathed in sunlight. A well-maintained lawn circled the entire log cabin, and a table and deck chairs sat out the front under a large, covered veranda.

  “It’s beautiful,” Amy said. “A piece of paradise.”

  “We don’t have to stay here forever, or even a long time if we don’t want to, but I felt the need to come here from the day that everyone disappeared.”

  Kevin rubbed his head against her shoulder. “Not quite everyone. We’re here with you.”

  “You totally are, Kevin, and I’m glad for that.”

  Nathan pulled up outside the cabin and killed the Range Rover’s engine.

  They all got out of the car and walked up onto the deck.

  Wiremu turned back to look down at the curve of 90 Mile Beach. “Look at that view, awesome.”

  Nathan tried the two ranch sliders on the front of the cabin and then walked around to the back door. He returned to the group. “Casey, any idea where the key is? It’s all locked up.”

  “No, but let me try.”

  She walked around the side of the cabin where the car was parked, feeling nothing.

  So she continued around to the far side of the cabin and off the deck. She looked around, feeling for where her father might have put a key. A huge native kauri tree was on the far side of the lawn, and she walked to it.

  She stood there, just waiting for something to tell her where to look. After kneeling down, she lifted a rock to find a key underneath. “Got it,” she said, returning to the deck. She walked around to the back door and tried the key.

  The door unlocked, and all of them went inside.

  “Wow, your dad must have loved reading—there are books everywhere,” Amy said.

  They looked around—every spare space was taken up with bookshelves. Casey walked over to one at random. All the books she could see were medicinal ones, with titles like Using Plants to Heal and An Idiot’s Guide to Home Dentistry.

  “Wiremu,” Nathan said, “we should unload the car of all the food.”

  The two men unlocked the other ranch slider and went back to the car.

  Casey looked around some more. There were thousands of books here. They’d never get bored.

  “I’ve found the fridge!” Amy said. “How does it work, Casey? This place is too remote for power, isn’t it?”

  “I remember my mum saying he had lots of solar panels here, so there’s power for the fridge and lights and stuff, I guess.”

  Kevin looked into the corner of the room. “Weird.”

  “What’s weird, Kevin?” Casey asked.

  “Did your dad have a dog?”

  “I’m not sure. Why?”

  “There’s a dog’s bed here, but it’s never been used. I can tell.”

  Nathan and Wiremu brought the boxes of food in, and they stocked the fridge and pantry.

  “Wiremu,” Amy said. “I tested the shower, and it works and is hot. I think it’s time.”

  “Yeah, yeah, on my way, boss. By the way, I spotted a solar hot water heating system on the roof, so we’re all set on that front.” He went to the bathroom, which sat between the two bedrooms.

  Kevin tested out the new dog bed as Casey, Amy, and Nathan continued exploring the house.

  In her father’s office Casey found some photos of her as a little girl, then almost one for each year as she grew up. The photos stopped a few years ago when she lost contact with him.

  “Casey,” Nathan said from the kitchen, “you should come here.”

  She walked over to him, as did Amy.

  “What, Nate?”

  Nathan pointed to a corkboard on the kitchen wall. Right in the center was a faded envelope with for Casey written on the front.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  The three of them stood there, staring at the envelope.

  “Did your dad know we were coming?” Nathan asked.

  “I doubt it. How could he?”

  Casey got the envelope and opened it up. She pulled a piece of paper out and noticed the date on the top of the page: January 1, 2005. Thirteen years ago.

  Amy and Nathan let her go by herself, as she went over to the brown leather couch and sat down. She had a feeling she wasn’t going to be able to stand to read this letter.

  Casey started to read the letter, recognizing her dad’s terrible handwriting.

  January 1, 2005

  My darling daughter Casey

  If you are reading this, it means the world has sort of ended, and you and your friends (including the dog) are pretty much the last ones here. I think you already know what’s happened, that the rest of the world continues on while you are stuck in this alternative world.

  By now you are wondering how the hell I could know this. I’m going to tell you a story which I could never tell anyone else except your mother, as I know they’d never believe me and likely I’d get locked away, or worse. But I know you will believe it.

  In the year 2000, you might remember I started working for my friend Jackson Brown (yes, like the singer. You always laughed at that). He had that JET service station but he fell on hard times, so I did some night shifts for him for no pay. It helped him out of a hole, even though it meant working through the night.

  I think you already see where this is going? While working one night, a portal appeared in the JET gas station. It freaked me out, as I’m sure it freaked you out the first time, too.

  For some reason I’ll never know, I felt compelled to stick my head in that portal. I got my whole head inside it and saw some other world. No one could hear me or see me, and it was one of the most incredible experiences of my life. I didn’t keep my head in there long as it hurt too much, but on pulling my head out I had an even more incredible experience.

  Due to the portal (I guess), I could see into the future—decades into the future. I could see you as a grown woman, entering the very cabin you are in now. I could picture the cabin and the exact location of it. I saw the army involved and I saw the man you are there with now, as well as the other two and the dog.

  I also saw the world sort of ending for you all. Ther
e were no people, and you were alone.

  After only minutes, this new ability to see the future stopped. It just went away. I went to stick my head back into the portal, but it had gone, and even though I did every night shift I possibly could from that point on, I never saw the portal again.

  This was when you were five years old. I made it my mission from that point on to build that cabin in that location and set it up for you to live in from this day on. I did explain all this to your mother, but as you now know, she didn’t believe me and would have no part of moving to the Far North.

  So that’s why there are books everywhere in that house, to help you all to live without outside help. There are lots of fruit trees outside (I’ve planted over one hundred, there’s a map to them on the wall) and a big garden which should sustain you all through the winters. There are plenty of gardening books, too, and hundreds of preserving jars to store fruit in for the winters.

  I’ve stuck as many solar panels on the roof as I could afford, and there’s solar hot water heating as well, so you should be fine for power and hot water.

  If you haven’t found it yet, there’s a basement door off one of the bedrooms. In the basement are thousands of seeds for growing your own veges.

  There are also medical supplies down there—all labeled and with bits of paper to explain how to use them. There are loads of other supplies down there. It all belongs to you now.

  I think that’s all. I’ve done what I can, and I’m sorry you are now stuck there, but in my visions of the future I didn’t see any way to stop this happening.

  Love you, Casey. Look after yourself and the others with you.

  Dad

  Tears flowed down Casey’s cheeks.

  Nathan stood with his mouth open after Casey explained what the letter said. “So he knew the whole time?”

  “It looks like it. Here.” She passed him the letter. “You read it.”

  “Wow,” Amy said. “It must have eaten him up inside to know this would happen but he couldn’t tell you, and couldn’t stop it.”

  Nathan whistled after finishing the letter. “Just when you think there are no more surprises.” He sat down on the couch with Casey and held her hand.

  Wiremu returned from the shower, wrapped in a bathrobe. “You guys should check out that bathroom. There’s a cabinet in there with enough toothpaste stocked in it to last for years. What? What’s with the funny looks?”

  Nathan handed him the letter, and started walking away. “I’m going to check out the basement.”

  “And then a shower!” both girls called out.

  Kevin came into the room. “I heard what you guys were saying. It’s amazing, Casey.”

  “I guess it is, Kevin. It explains a lot from my childhood, how things worked out.”

  While it wasn’t cold, the fire was going in the lounge. All decided it would be a nice end to the day.

  Kevin lay sprawled out on a wooly mat in front of it, his tail wagging slowly as Casey and Nathan sat on one couch, Wiremu and Amy on the other. No one spoke for a while, all content after having a decent meal.

  Casey stretched her arms up and out, wrapping one round Nathan on the way down. “Wiremu, when you and your uncle spoke as we were leaving North Head, can I ask what you were both saying? It was in Māori? You don’t have to say if it’s private.”

  “It’s okay, Casey. I said to him, E kore a muri e hokia, which means ‘What is done is done.’ But then my uncle reminded me it can also mean, ‘Once gone, you can never return.’ So it backfired on me a bit.”

  “And what did he say after that?”

  “He said, Ka mate te kāinga tahi, ka ora te kāinga rua.”

  “Okay…and what does that mean?”

  “The literal translation would be, ‘When one house dies, a second lives.’ It sort of means that something good can come from misfortune, or when two families are merged due to some misfortune. I think that means us.”

  Casey snuggled into Nate. That was good enough for her.

  Epilogue

  18 years ago…

  Phillip Lewiston stood, hands on his large hips, at the counter of the JET service station in the affluent Auckland suburb of Papatoetoe. “I want to see the manager, right now!”

  The guy behind the counter stood, a surprised look on his face. “You’re kidding, right? It’s 2:00 a.m. on a Saturday morning. He went home nine hours ago.”

  Phillip could feel his face getting redder by the second. The teenager behind the counter was not bending to his logic. “Then listen to me again. This pie has burnt my mouth. I’m not even sure I want to try eating the second one.”

  “Sorry, sir, but there is a warning label on the cabinet that pies may be hot.”

  “Hot, yes, but not fucking thermonuclear. It’s the new millennium. You’d think by now you’d be able to get your fucking pie temperatures right.”

  “If you continue to swear, sir, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

  Fists clenched, Phillip turned and stormed out of the JET, taking the second pie with him. At least he tried to storm out—he had to wait for the automatic doors to open. “Fucking automatic doors.”

  Phillip drove home, seething, and mumbling under his breath.

  “Fucking JET, trying to burn my taste buds to a crisp.”

  He pulled into his mum’s driveway, got out of his car, and went to his home office.

  “Let’s see how they like to get burned.”

  Phillip logged into the Defense Force systems remotely. Being one of their top programmers gave him that luxury. There might have been three-factor authentication, but he had access to the TIGER project.

  And tonight, that was all he needed.

  Eventually he was logged in, and was soon looking at millions of lines of program code.

  “Shit!”

  He looked down to see his black cat had jumped onto his huge stomach.

  “Not right now, Ricky Martin,” he said, stroking the cat. “Daddy’s got important work to do. Ha! Important that I teach JET a lesson.”

  He put Ricky onto another desk that was covered in papers and junk food wrappers.

  “I think I’ll add Teacher to my CV. This is gonna be so good.”

  Still hungry, he opened the packet on the second pie he had brought home, and took one bite of it. “I don’t believe it—still too fucking hot!”

  He dumped the pie on his desk and focused on his revenge.

  Philip worked through to the morning light, inserting code, his fingers working like lightning. When he was in the zone, he could pump that code out as fast as his fingers could move.

  And he was certainly in the zone that morning.

  By the time he was done, it was midday Saturday. He could hear his mother up and about at last, as he started to run out of energy.

  He selected all the new work he had done, and applied a script that he had developed himself to hide his morning’s work. No point some other programmer finding his code and deleting it.

  His revenge code would be hidden forever.

  Ricky was still crashed out, now on a spare office chair as Phillip rose.

  “I’m off to bed, Ricky. I think JET having random portals appear when the military run the TIGER program should teach them a lesson. Bastards.”

  Ricky woke, and looked up as Phillip left the room.

  A smell got the cat moving—there was meat somewhere up on the desk.

  Walking along the keyboard, he found the booty—an entire steak and cheese pie.

  Ricky plonked himself down on the keyboard and munched on the meat, pastry, and cheese. Kitty heaven.

  Pie gone, it was time for more sleep.

  On the keyboard.

  Ricky dreamed of chasing mice and rats, climbing trees, and other nocturnal activities, which included that very sexy tabby three doors up.

  His paws moved in his sleep, tapping the keyboard randomly.

  It was a good dream.

  Maybe even a great dream.
/>   The tapping with his paws continued.

  “Phillip! Do you want pizza for dinner? I’m ordering in.”

  “No need to shout, Mum, I can hear you! And yes!”

  He rolled over in bed, trying to remember what he had done earlier in the day.

  Oh yeah! Taught JET a lesson.

  Phillip checked the time—6:00 p.m.

  I slept all afternoon?

  Rising, he went back to his office to check on his handiwork. “Ricky! Get off the keyboard!”

  The cat woke, jumped down, and sauntered out of the office.

  As Phillip sat down, the chair creaked under his formidable weight.

  “What the…”

  He looked at the screen to see jumbled code all over the place. It was a total mess of different characters, inputted by a randy cat.

  He had no idea what, if anything, this new mess of typing would do.

  “Fuck it. I don’t care.”

  Phillip selected all the extra typing that Ricky has done with his paws and hid it as well. No one would ever know.

  He hit the ‘Deploy’ button, sat back, and waited.

  I wonder if I could fit a pie in before pizza?

  He got up off his office chair, grabbed his car keys, and headed back to the JET.

  Sneak Peek of Driven

  Driverless cabs can’t be hacked. Or so they thought.

  She’s young, beautiful, and living a life of the idle rich in La La Land. Mia Turner appears to have it all. Then on what starts out as a normal Rodeo Drive shopping trip, she gets into an autonomous cab to take her handbag dog to the vet. But someone has hacked her vehicle and there’s no escape, no one to hear her scream.

  A gruelling cross-country trip follows, but it’s not only the hijacked cab she wants to escape. Disturbing childhood memories feed her nightmares during the trip from hell, and a kidnapper’s hidden agenda may help or hinder her – she doesn’t know which.