Pulse

by Wade, Matthew

  The two guards had their backs to them. Bobby quickly scanned around them. One man was about twenty feet away from them, rifling through the magazine rack. He took a magazine from the rack and walked around to the other side of the isle, out of sight.

  “Now” whispered Bobby with all the urgency he could put into his voice.

  Stuart swung his bag off of his shoulder, and put the higher priced game into it. Getting swept up in the moment, he quickly grabbed one of each of the games in front of him and shoved them into his bag.

  “Dude go. Get out” said Bobby with a sudden urgency as another shopper appeared around the corner. The boys made a purposeful walk towards the door. Just as they got to within ten paces of the exit, red t-shirt man stopped them. Bobby’s heart skipped a beat this time.

  “Didn’t fancy the game guys?”

  “Too expensive, sorry – maybe next month.”

  Satisfied with the answer, he left them to leave the store. Stuart went ahead of Bobby, and braced himself for the final move.

  Stuart approached the doorway which was flanked either side by a five foot tall panel with a red light and a green light on top, ready to sound the alarm if it detected an item that had not been de-chipped by the checkout assistant. As he approached he gritted his teeth and heard two faint pops as both green lights went out.

  Stuart strode out of the store as calmly as he could, even though his heart was hammering so hard in his chest he thought he was going to have a heart attack, and carried on down the street, quickly turning a corner to get out of sight.

  Stuart kept walking for another minute when Bobby caught up with him. “Stop – Thief.”

  Stuart jumped so far he almost took off. “Don’t do that!” Bobby laughed out loud, and Stuart quickly followed.

  Back at Stuart’s house, Stuart opened the bag and tipped out the contents on the bed.

  “I didn’t realise how many you got! There’s eight games here!”

  “Haha – yeah I got a bit carried away. Man – I thought that sales guy had me at the door.”

  “I know – I was getting ready to run! Did you see the security guards – they were just standing there looking at the camera!”

  “Haha yeah – they couldn’t figure it out. That was awesome, dude!”

  “Ah yeah – you got Drag racer as well!”

  “Oh yeah – To be honest I didn’t know what I was grabbing.”

  The two boys laughed and re-lived the heist. As dusk settled in the sky outside, they plotted their next move.

  Twenty eight

  Mr Osborne was sitting in a creaking wooden chair with a rounded back and a faded green leather seat. The office he was in was mainly wood. It had a wooden cabinet in the far corner with a drop down lid that concealed a variety of spirits and glasses.

  It harked back to older days when class was defined by how much opulent furniture a man surrounded himself with, and how much of that was made from trees or animals.

  Opposite Mr Osborne was a large wooden desk, with a variety of pens and papers stacked hap hazardly on the edges.

  An American flag stood in one corner, and an Eagle in the other. Sitting behind the desk was a tired looking principal. He turned to the man who was sitting next to him and gave him a weary stare.

  “I think Mr Osborne has been more than co-operative with you, detective Church. I can’t see anything else that you need from him today – so if you don’t mind we have...”

  The detective raised his hand in the air to stop him.

  “I’m sorry Principal but what Mr Osborne is telling me just doesn’t add up. The phone can’t have simply just exploded on its own – now is there something you are not telling me?”

  “Like what?” The principal pinched the bridge of his nose. His headache was getting worse. They had been over the same ground for over an hour and nothing had progressed in over half that time.

  “Are you protecting one of your students from having a concealed weapon in school, or...”

  The principal jerked bolt upright in his chair at the accusation. “No we certainly are not!”

  The detective stood up for effect, placed his hands on the table and leaned into the principles face, getting in his personal space. A tactic employed to provoke witnesses into a confession.

  “Then explain to me how this happened! One student has sustained facial injuries and the school had to be evacuated. Now it is my job to ensure the safety of this district...”

  “And it is mine to ensure the safety of this school!” The principal was also standing, his face growing redder and redder.

  “Now we have told you everything there is to know, so unless you wish to charge us then I suggest that you leave!” He slammed his fist on the table as he said this, shaking the flag onto the floor.

  The detective moved towards the door.

  He stopped with his hand on the handle, and gave the principle one last passing shot.

  “This won’t be the last you hear from us – we will be watching this school very closely from now on.”

  Twenty nine

  At about three in the morning, the area around the cash machine on the outside wall of the bank was deserted. The only disturbances to the peace were two hooded teenagers approaching from the west and a fox, which was taking more of an interest in the bins than the approaching boys.

  It had been raining earlier in the evening, and the road was glistening wet and there was a fresh smell in the air.

  The bank was situated under a flyover and could only be seen from the street level, which made it perfect. The security camera perched on top of the bank was already smoking and Bobby was lining up the pin-hole camera in the wall above the cash machine. This one would take some precision.

  Whuuuummm.

  “That should be the last of them.”

  Bobby had been practicing for a few weeks, and could now target his powers into areas no bigger than a stamp. He had managed to blow the speaker on a computer monitor at school, leaving the screen intact. He was still having trouble targeting smaller objects at a distance, as it seemed as though the energy that left his body spread out as it got further away from him and was therefore less controllable.

  The previous week, full of confidence, Stuart and Bobby had entered the Apple store in town, intent on making off with a couple of iPods each.

  They strolled in. The nervous guilty looking teenagers from the record shop a few weeks previously were shadows of the past, replaced by confident hipsters, strutting with bravado.

  But as soon as they walked in, Bobby and Stuart could see the problem. An Apple store isn’t laid out in the same way as most other stores they had encountered. First of all, it is open plan. There are low tables with displays of the various products on them, and people milling around everywhere. The boxed items that the boys were after were hidden away in a store room, and only fetched by an employee of the store once someone makes a purchase.

  But no matter, Stuart had found the solution. “We can still nab one of the display models” he whispered as they wandered casually past a group of Japanese tourists playing with the latest iPads. “You just need to cause a distraction.”

  “First we need to knock out the security.” He walked over to the music display and focused his energy on the magnetic security cord plate attached to the group of iPods in the corner of the bench.

  Whuuuummm.

  Stuart was already scanning for cameras (this was fast becoming one of his main roles in the operation). “Top left, rear corner, centre light fitting, either side of the main entrance.”

  Whuuuummm.

  Whuuuummm.

  Whuuuummm.

  “OK – Now blow the big screen at the back of the store.” Stuart gestured over to the rear of the shop where a man in a tweed jacket was demonstrating some of the latest tricks with video editing software in front of a seated audience of about twenty or thirty. Bobby summoned up his energy once more, focused on the screen and fired hard enough to reach the back
of the room.

  Whuuuummm.

  It was like a tidal wave had swept across the room. First the collection of iPads on the table in front of them exploded with a violent force, burning the hands of the Japanese tourists holding them – One girl suffering burns to her face as flames ejected from the screens.

  As the electric tsunami worked its way across the store, the spread of destruction widened. Ten feet from Bobby, a width of three tables were almost set alight by burning laptops, and by the time the wave had hit the back of the room, virtually all of the audio visual equipment on the wall being used by the tweed jacket wearing man went up in a flash of light and a cloud of smoke.

  As the big screen blew, it jumped off of its stand and toppled forward. The tweed jacket wearing man turned to look at where the noise was coming from, saw the burning falling monitor and put his hands over his head to protect himself in vain as the screen hit him hard in the back, and sent him flying forwards into the shocked looking audience in front of him. He landed face first in the lap of a young blonde girl in the front row. The pair ended up on the floor with the remains of the big screen fizzing and popping on top of them.

  Stuart watched all of this unfold in front of him in slow motion. When the first wave of chaos had ended, the second started. The people in the shop started running and screaming, pushing each other out of the way in a crazed bid to reach the exit first.

  Bobby turned to Stuart who was wide eyed with fear. “Shit. Fuck. Run.”

  That all happened the week before last, and Bobby and Stuart were trying a different tactic. They had ditched the idea of stealing small items in public places, and were now going for the bigger prize. Money.

  “I’m still not convinced, Stu.” He was standing in front of the cash machine, peering at the screen advertising insurance and mortgages. “I think if I zap it, it won’t just start spewing money. I mean they must have fail safes for power cuts, right?”

  The two of them contemplated this for a moment, before Bobby shrugged. “Meh – may as well try them eh? Stand back, dude.” Stuart squealed with excitement as Bobby took two paces back from the wall.

  Whuuuummm.

  BANG!

  There was a lot of smoke and sparks coming from the top of the unit. The power had gone off and the screen was dead, but no jackpot winnings were falling from the front.

  “Dude! Look!” Stuart was peering through the glass doors of the bank and into the dark foyer. The force of Bobby’s impact had blown the back of the cash machine, and all of the money was now scattered inside the bank floor. Some of it was smouldering, but most of it was intact.

  “Dude! Blow the doors and we can grab it!” Stuart was now jumping up and down with glee, trying to get a good look through the glass doors.

  “No, I can’t do that. It won’t work. The doors are locked with a key. The only way through is smash the glass.”

  Stuart scanned around for something to throw through the window. He spotted a waste bin across the street and ran over to grab it. He threw it at the doors with all of his force, but bank windows and doors are made of tougher glass than he realised, and he succeeded in only chipping the surface. In his frustration he started hammering at the glass with the bin, hoping that enough strikes in the same spot would eventually make it give way. Bobby had found a broken brick and was joining the struggle.

  Forgetting themselves, the boys had been standing there for five or six minutes and had not noticed the motion detectors inside the bank, that were pointing directly at the two boys. Nor had they noticed the police car that had pulled up alongside them. Not at least until it had sounded its siren.

  Thirty

  Steve and Karen were fast asleep in bed when the phone rang. The sudden noise cut through the silence of deep sleep like a shrill knife. Steve jumped and for a moment was disoriented. He reached over and picked up the receiver.

  “Hello? Bobby? Are you... You what?! What do you mean!? I thought you were in bed! Jeeezus Christ Robert! But what were you doing out that late? OK, OK, gimme half an hour at least... I know, it’s OK, I know you didn’t... I’m sure it was, just sit tight and I’ll straighten it out, don’t worry... OK, OK, I’m on my way.”

  “What’s going on Stevie?”

  “It’s Bobby – He’s been arrested.”

  Thirty one

  Tom Simpson was sitting at his desk when the door opened. The sudden movement took Simpson by surprise. “Sorry to startle you, Tom” said Fisher.

  “No problem Jeff, what can I do you for today?” Simpson turned around and studied Fisher. He was a short round man who carried his stomach far out in front of him so it gave the impression he was pregnant. He wore a plaid shirt tucked into a pair of faded blue chinos and a non-descript plain pair of glasses perched on the end of his nose. But despite his demure appearance, he was well respected in the field of forensics. “Sit down, please.”

  Fisher sat down on the black office chair that Simpson had motioned to. The chair creaked as he sat, and then Fisher proceeded to fiddle with the height of the chair until he was comfortable. Simpson waited patiently, for he knew he wouldn’t interrupt him unless he felt it was important. Often these interruptions by Fisher were met by the rest of the force with excitement, as it meant a breakthrough was coming.

  Fisher was carrying a blue cardboard documents wallet and took out the contents and put them on the table in between the two men. Simpson looked on with interest.

  “So…” he began. “Have you heard of Professor Stephen Hawking?” This caught Simpson by surprise, but it also intrigued him, so he indulged Fisher with his question.

  “The physicist? Quadriplegic – In a wheelchair?”

  “Yes, yes, yes, motor neurons disease. Also a genius. Holds the same position in Cambridge University that Isaac Newton once held. Also a fellow of the Royal Society. Hmm? Oh, sorry, anyway – so Hawking predicted the existence of Hawking Radiation, which is the electromagnetic signature emitted by a black hole, part of his quantum mechanics theory. In my mind, one of the purest forms of radiation. And the most powerful.” Fisher looked up at Simpson, too see if he was following. “So, I was talking to Professor Brightside earlier today, and the thing is, is that your discovery earlier this year in the woods has a very similar electromagnetic signature to Hawking radiation.”

  “OK. Meaning?” Simpson was leaning forward now, and listening intently.

  “Let me show you.” Fisher took two pages from his notes, and laid them on the desk for Simpson see. Both pages showed a graph. “The first one is a theoretical signature for Hawking Radiation.” He said, pointing at one of the pages. “The second is from the crash site. What do you notice?”

  Simpson studied the two graphs. “They look pretty much the same to me. Apart from a couple of spikes.” Simpson was sounding a little strained, waiting for the point to come.

  “Exactly!” said Fisher. “They are within point three percent of each other. Meaning that whatever you found in the woods came out of, or was part of a black hole.”

  “I thought nothing could leave a black hole?”

  “Not if it passed just outside the event horizon, and was travelling at a fast enough speed to slingshot around. It would absorb some of radiation but carry on through space.”

  “So you are telling me that this came from space?”

  “Exactly! Nothing on Earth emits that kind of radiation.”

  Simpson leaned back in his chair and stared out of window. “So we are dealing with an alien.” He thought for a moment. “But wouldn’t something like this get picked up on a radar. If it came close to Earth we would have known about it right?”

  “Yes but it could have been here for centuries, lying dormant somewhere on Earth until it was disturbed.”

  Simpson rubbed his temples. He looked at Fisher, contemplating what to do next.

  Fisher cleared his throat. “But there’s more. The main reason I came in here.”

  “Go on.” Leaning forward again.

 
; “I was called in to do forensics on a bank raid in the early hours of yesterday morning. Nothing unusual until I saw it. The ATM had been blown open from the inside. Money all over the floor of the bank. Police turned up before the assailants could make off with the cash. I had to wait around for the bank manager to come down with a set of keys to let us in, but when I got in – the readings we took...”

  “Wait, wait – it was still locked?”

  “Yes, yes, but this is the best part. It had been blown from the outside, with some kind of EMP device. Blown to smithereens.”

  “EMP? But that would be military tech – Top secret stuff. They are still testing that kind of weapon. We would know if it was out on the streets.”

  “Yes, yes, but look at this.” He pushed a third sheet of paper with a graph on it towards Simpson. “Readings taken from the bank today.” Simpson studied it for a while.

  “Looks the same as the other two.”

  “Identical to the crash site readings.”

  “So are you saying that when we lost site of the crashed object it went off moonlighting as a bank robber?”

  “No, what I am saying is that is the same tech. The same signature. Whatever crashed in the woods is connected to this hit on the bank.”

  “You said the cops showed before the assailants could get away – Did they catch them?”

  “They are over at the station now. They told me to tell you about it. said you might be able to help.”

  “Who are they?”

  “Couple of teenagers.”

  Thirty two

  Church was not a patient man. He had a ton of paperwork in front of him and it was going to take several days to get through it all. So having to interview some kid about trying to break the glass of a bank window seemed way beneath his pay grade. I mean, why couldn’t they get one of the junior guys to do this? Normally all that would happen is that they would give the kid a caution. Send him home to his parents. He had to wait for Simpson to get here before he was allowed to let him go. But that was OK – this seemed an interesting case.