The Next Together

by Lauren James

  He snorted, but she chose to ignore him, having just found a reasonably large hole in the wire fence.

  “Told you!” She ducked through the hole into the brambles on the other side. She pushed her way through the spiky branches until she found a way out to the safety of a tarmacked car park.

  She was pulling out the leaves that had caught in her hair when Matt appeared from the bush, looking windswept and harassed.

  “You OK?” she asked.

  “I think my elbow is bleeding.”

  “You’re fine,” she told him, and grabbed his hand.

  They picked their way cautiously through the empty, weed-covered car park towards the building beyond. The complex looked untouched, its huge windows unbroken, though green with mould. It didn’t look anything like Kate had imagined, and was more like a library than the quarantined site of the outbreak of dangerous bacteria. She couldn’t believe they were risking everything to chase down a long-forgotten mystery that had happened a lifetime ago. But she felt like this was her whole reason for being – her whole reason for living. She couldn’t stop. She had to do this for herself, for Katherine.

  They approached the building cautiously, but there was no sign of life. Kate peered through the dusty panes of glass, while Matt tried to open the doors. The security system had obviously stood the test of time, because they wouldn’t budge.

  “Why don’t we just break a window?” Kate suggested, interrupting Matt’s musings on messing with the wiring in the locks. He looked shocked at the idea.

  “Matt, it’s an abandoned building. Who cares?”

  “But it’s such a waste of glass!”

  “You have such a warped sense of morality. I really don’t think it matters, you dork. Here, I’ll do it.” Kate prised a sandstone rock from the border of a long-overgrown flower bed and threw it at one of the windows. It bounced off with a reverberating thud.

  Matt winced. “Congratulations,” he said dryly.

  She rolled her eyes and picked up the rock again.

  “Good idea, Kate. I bet it works perfectly this time.”

  “I’ve been a bad influence on you, Mr Galloway. Less of the sarcasm, young man. Cynicism doesn’t suit you,” she said.

  “I hardly think sarcasm is the worst thing you’ve brought into my life,” he muttered.

  “You’re welcome,” she said, carefully aiming the stone at one of the corners of the large glass panes of the sliding doors. The glass smashed, sending a satisfyingly majestic spray of shards across the floor of the reception. Kate glanced smugly at Matt, but he was too busy staring inside to notice.

  “How are we supposed to know if the bacteria is still alive?” he asked.

  They regarded the building apprehensively.

  “You know, I’m pretty sure the bacteria outbreak wasn’t real, anyway,” Kate decided. “Look at this place. It seems that they had plenty of time to shut everything up neatly. I think CSL made the outbreak up, to make sure people stayed away. I think we should risk it. Besides, wouldn’t the bacteria have already been released through the window I just … er … broke?”

  Matt nodded and stepped through the gap in the door, glass shards crunching beneath his feet.

  Kate followed him and then turned on her torch, illuminating the reception area. She picked up a brightly coloured leaflet from the floor. On the front there was a picture of Matthew and Katherine Galloway, posing in lab coats and holding test tubes, beaming at the camera.

  Folios/v7/Time-landscape-2019/MS-99

  “Ready?” Matt asked, bumping his shoulder against hers.

  She dropped the leaflet, mouth dry, and nodded. “Ready.”

  Carlisle, England, 1745

  “It’s hard to believe we’re in the middle of a siege,” Katherine said. “Everything is so peaceful.”

  Tomorrow there was going to be a meeting to decide whether the city should surrender to the Jacobites, but for tonight the town was silent.

  “Can you come up to my bedchamber?” she continued, a little nervously. The request felt scandalous even though they were now betrothed. “I was freezing cold last night, because I couldn’t light the fire.”

  Matthew nodded, an odd look on his face, and followed her upstairs. Their hands met on the banister, and they both jumped away from the touch, looking shyly at each other.

  Once in her room, she sat at her dressing table, unpinning her hair, as he built a fire. He kept darting glances at her. When the fire burnt steadily, he got up and came to stand behind her. She leant back against his chest and pressed a kiss to his forearm. He stooped to run his lips along her neck: soft butterfly strokes down to her collarbone.

  The sound of a moan echoed around the room. It took her a moment to realize the breathless, wanton noise had come from her, and she closed her eyes in embarrassment. She sounded like that, and all he had done was kiss her neck! He began pressing soft kisses onto her eyelids. The expression on his face was reverent when she opened her eyes.

  “Could you help me take off my dress?” she asked quietly. “It’s a struggle doing it alone.”

  His gaze dropped to the line of her bodice and she shivered.

  As Matthew’s hands began to carefully undo the buttons of her dress, Katherine thought how much more romantic the elaborate undressing was when Matthew was doing it, instead of a maid. When he had untied the ribbons of her chemise, she stood up and eased the dress down to the floor. She already felt naked and there were still several layers to go. Matthew undressed her slowly, savouring each moment like she was an elaborately wrapped present. He kissed each new length of exposed skin with wonder.

  Eventually he had peeled her clothes away from her and she stepped out of the pile of abandoned garments. His breath came out in a rush, and he quickly drew her into a kiss. His fingers were cold against her back, and she gasped.

  He smiled. “Sorry.”

  “Don’t be.”

  He helped her into her nightdress, spending a long moment tying the ribbon. Then he pressed a kiss against the base of her neck.

  She turned to him with a grin. “Now it’s my turn.”

  She began unbuttoning his waistcoat and shirt, kissing the newly revealed skin down his chest.

  “Much faster,” she murmured against the skin. “Maybe I should go back to dressing like a boy.”

  “I wouldn’t have a problem with that,” he replied. “As long as it wasn’t in public.”

  She could quite happily spend the rest of her life kissing him. Katherine’s hand found his waist and slipped under his shirt to touch the smooth, bare skin.

  He jerked in surprise. “We have to stop. We should wait until we are wed.”

  She let out a sigh, closing her eyes to the feel of his hands rubbing circles into her scalp. She wasn’t ready to go further than this. It all felt too good to be true.

  > Time-landscape 1745 progressing as planned

  Folios/v3/Time-landscape-1854/MS-10

  File note:

  Plan of regiments at the Battle at the Alma River. The French and British marched on the Russians by fording the river

  Crimea, Ukraine, 1854

  The battle was raging and Katy had lost track of where she was. The air was thick with smoke from the village’s burning buildings and every shadow made her blanch with fear that she had somehow wandered over enemy lines and was surrounded by Russians. She stumbled forward again, feeling a squelch beneath her feet. For one sickening instant, she thought she had stepped on a body, but then a fruity scent made its way up through the smoke. Grapes. She was in a vineyard.

  From somewhere near by came the sound of shots and men calling out to each other. She could feel the heat of fire on her skin. A shape suddenly fell towards her and Katy ducked, thinking it was a shell, but at the flapping of wings she realized it was a panicked bird trying to escape the battle. A shot went past Katy’s head, and she shuddered to see it hit the wall of a building, shards of brick exploding from the hit. The noise terrified her, but it help
ed her sense of direction. She now knew that the front line must be at the river. She ran until the smoke cleared and suddenly she could see it. The neat, ordered palette of colours of the regiments had dissolved into a mass of brown, the vivid reds blurring with the blues.

  Then Katy reeled back in shock. There were several ladies standing on the crest of the hill, their dresses flying around them in the breeze. The Russians were having a picnic during the battle! She gaped in awe at their arrogance – to view war like an evening’s entertainment.

  After a moment, she remembered herself and checked the progress of the soldiers. The British were swarming over a wooden bridge, with the Russians firing down on them from the other side of the river. Men dropped into the water and swam to the bank, before clambering up the slope of the hill, pulling at the stringy grass to get onto land, only to be shot down by the Russians.

  Her plans were vague, but she couldn’t stop the feeling that she had to find Matthew, that he needed her help. She aimed for the river. Soldiers were wading through the deep water, rifles held above their heads. She was amazed to see that several held bunches of grapes in their teeth – they’d obviously passed through the vineyard too, and made the most of the opportunity.

  The battle was getting fiercer all the time, and a screeching rocket now flew over her head and landed on the opposite bank. It exploded among the Russian men in a flush of bright fire. She heard a scream and saw an injured soldier clinging to the riverbank just downstream from her, blood flowing from a wound on his head. And then there was Matthew, as she’d known he would be, right in the middle of the danger. He was knee-deep in water as he tried to push the injured man onto the bank.

  Carlisle, England, 1745

  Nearly everyone in Carlisle had gathered in the cathedral for the meeting to discuss whether to surrender. Durand and his garrison were busy trying to persuade the terrified townsfolk to keep fighting the Rebels.

  “I’m on Durand’s side,” Matthew told Katherine firmly. “We can hold out against them. We can’t trust them to keep their promises, not now we’ve refused their original conditions. We have to keep them out.”

  Katherine “hmm”ed thoughtfully.

  The meeting went on a long time, but even though the civilians were initially willing to hold the defence, the militia refused to help.

  At this, a wave of panic spread through the cathedral.

  “We have to surrender!” a gentleman cried. “We can’t defend ourselves without soldiers.”

  A vote was taken and nearly all of the civilians voted to surrender. Durand stood up to address the crowd. His booming voice echoed around the high ceilings of the building. “Ladies and gentlemen, whatever the city decides to do, the castle and its garrison are going to remain firm. Anyone who wishes to join us in the castle will be welcomed. We are well defended and have enough provisions to hold out for as long as the siege continues.”

  He paused and then went on, “The castle gates will be closed at dusk and will stay locked when the Jacobites enter the city after your surrender.” He said the word pointedly, clearly disgusted with the militia for giving up so easily. Katherine understood the feeling. After a firm nod, he began to walk swiftly towards the exit.

  A soldier blocked his path. “Sir,” he said, “Prince Charlie’s conditions require that the castle surrenders with the city. I’m going to have to insist you give up your arms.”

  “The garrison will not surrender,” Durand replied. “The city should refuse to give in to threats of violence, regardless of the reason. Carlisle can’t cave to Charlie’s threats, especially when we’re perfectly capable of holding our defences. Carlisle is better than that. We won’t surrender.”

  “Sir, I am afraid I must insist. We already have a document for surrender drawn up… If you would just sign it, then all of this can be over. If you don’t, Carlisle is going to have to face the wrath of the Highlanders. We won’t allow that. I’m sorry. I have no choice but to ask you to sign.”

  “I refuse, you cowards,” Durand hissed.

  The soldier silently lowered his musket and pointed it at Durand. After a moment of shock, everyone began to shout. Then everything happened at once. The garrison and the militia aimed their weapons at one another, throwing angry threats into the sea of noise.

  Durand stood frozen.

  “No!” Matthew shouted, frantic. “He can’t die!”

  Katherine ran forward, not sure what she was planning to do but knowing she had to help. But Matthew pushed her back and moved to pull Durand out of the line of fire. The soldier holding the musket jerked forward in surprise – and then, without any warning, the gun went off.

  A bang echoed around the room.

  “No!” Katherine screamed. She couldn’t hear anything except the ring of the recoil in her ears, couldn’t see anything except the blood spreading quickly across the back of Matthew’s shirt, soaking the fabric in seconds.

  Matthew had been shot.

  > ALERT: Subject allocation “MATTHEW” in time-landscape 1745 is compromised

  > Situation critical

  > Intervention recommended

  >> Intervention in progress

  CHAPTER 22

  Folios/v7/Time-landscape-2019/MS-160

  Crimea, Ukraine, 1854

  Matthew had almost succeeded in pushing the injured man onto the bank by the time Katy made it down the hill.

  “Matthew!” she cried out, her words inaudible over the sounds of battle and the rush of water. She dropped down on the bank, grabbing the injured soldier and heaving him the rest of the way onto dry land. He was a Highlander. His tall, fluffy bearskin tilted to the side and was damp and seeping water.

  “Matthew, we need to get out of here,” she said.

  Matthew struggled up onto the bank. Before he could reply, someone fired at them.

  Katy knocked him down, and threw herself on top of him. This was it: he was going to get shot. She had to stop it, even if she was hit herself.

  “Katy!” he cried out, trying to squirm out of her grasp, but she held on fast. She couldn’t let him die.

  > ALERT: Time-landscape 1854 in imminent danger of timing out

  Katy gasped for breath, the panic rising in her as if she were drowning, and then suddenly the Highlander was covering them both, hiding them in the dark safe space below his body. She had no idea why he had decided to sacrifice himself, but she gritted her teeth and closed her eyes as the shots increased. The soldier above them was shaking. Warm liquid dripped down onto her face. He was crying out, writhing as the impacts shook him, and then it was suddenly silent and Katy stared into Matthew’s eyes. The Highlander had saved them; he had saved them both.

  Matthew was alive, staring at her with horror and panic and disbelief, and quiet filled every corner of her mind. She couldn’t remember how to breathe or think or do anything except close her eyes and clasp the relief that he was alive, that she didn’t have to watch him die again like at the cathedral. He was still here; he was still hers.

  It was then that the memories came, opened up inside her as if they’d always been there. All it had taken was a brush with death to remind her of them. They blossomed in her mind in vivid stains, and she remembered everything – and Matthew was everything and she loved him and always had.

  She had done this before. She had held Matthew’s blood-soaked body and gasped for breath through her tears. It wasn’t just déjà vu, because she remembered it so clearly, like it had happened only the day before. But that was impossible.

  She could see it all with perfect clarity, their previous lives together. Her vision went black and she blinked away the blur of her tears. The world came back into focus, new and different.

  > Time merging has reached 100% completion in time–landscape 1854

  > It is highly unlikely that these subjects will achieve their objective, considering this hazardous landscape

  Carlisle, England, 1745

  With blood pouring from the wound to his chest, M
atthew stood still long enough that Katherine had the sudden hope that his injury wasn’t serious, that it was going to be fine, he would be all right. And then all at once he fell to the floor, as if his strings had been cut. There was a deafening silence.

  The soldier who had shot at Durand and hit Matthew by mistake dropped his musket and stepped back in horror. Katherine pushed her way, shakily, through the crowd, her legs on the verge of collapsing beneath her.

  “Everyone get back!” a soldier called. “Give her privacy.” Suddenly the cathedral was clear of everyone except Matthew, Durand and Katherine.

  Katherine couldn’t believe this was happening. She dropped to the floor beside Matthew, pulling him onto her lap.

  “Matthew!” she cried, her voice sounding hollow.

  His head fell back on her shoulder. “I love you.”

  She closed her eyes, pressed her cheek against his. “I love you too, Matthew. Please, please don’t go.”

  Durand was standing near by. He was covered in Matthew’s blood.

  “Please don’t surrender,” Matthew begged him. “You can’t. Please, you need to hold fast. Promise me.”

  Durand nodded, face white. “Nobody else will die – I promise.”

  Matthew turned back to Katherine, running his eyes over her face like he was memorizing her features. “Katherine, please look after – Anise for me. Please.”

  She nodded and tried to force a smile, as she watched the light fade from his eyes. A resigned stillness was sweeping through his body. Everything was blurring before her. She blinked away tears as she stroked the hair out of his eyes. He didn’t blink, and she realized it was because he couldn’t take his eyes off her.

  “I love you,” he mouthed, and then he closed his eyes, and didn’t open them again, even when she begged him not to leave her. She wept great racking sobs that tore from her chest and shook his lifeless body. She couldn’t stop. Her voice was a rough choke and her cheeks burnt from the salt of her tears.