Time Split - Briggs

by Patricia Smith

  He shook his head and smiled. He was having trouble getting to grips with this. “I thought time travel was bad enough, but now I’m listening to someone talking about something I haven’t done yet; it’s all a little bit too much to get my head around at the moment.”

  “The other machine is located in a bunker in a TA Centre in Kenton Bank Foot. You have two days to get there. The entrance to the bunker looks like a massive drainpipe. You’ll have to be careful and quick because you’ll only be a few miles from ground zero. Get into the bunker as fast as you can. I’ve set the timer so that I get back before Briggs returns, but there won’t be much time after that.”

  Jason’s face furrowed. “Who’s Briggs?”

  “A very bad man in this timeline, who I can guarantee you do not want to meet.”

  “How did he get my machine?”

  Sarah shook her head. “I do not know. Do you know how to get to Kenton Bank Foot?”

  “Yes. I grew up in the region.”

  “Good.” She suddenly felt the tingling sensation which signalled her return. She smiled. “It’s good to see you,” she said softly, just before Jason disappeared.

  Chapter Four

  Nuclear Bunker, Kenton Bank Foot, Newcastle

  Sarah shut her eyes quickly, then opened them again to a squint. A shadowy shape was standing directly ahead, but all she could see at this stage was form. No features and very little colour were offered to her overloaded retina. She stepped to the back of the machine, conditioned now to approach everything with caution. Logic dictated that the build of the person standing directly ahead was all wrong for Briggs; the height was about right, but the stockiness and breadth across the shoulders was missing, but still, it did not automatically mean it was Jason. Then as her eyes adjusted and the blurs took on a sharpened shape, she smiled with relief and reached for the door. “You found it.”

  “I’ve been here a while,” Jason informed her. “A few hours. Enough time to have a really good look around. This place is incredible. There are sleeping quarters, a large kitchen, which is obviously designed to cater for a lot of people, and beyond that a massive food store with loads of tinned products. Everything I looked at was up to date, so it’s not like it’s an abandoned bunker.” He lifted his rucksack from the ground. “I’ve stocked up: fish, soups and some meaty stews,” he laughed, “it’s at least seven kilos heavier.” He looked at the machine. “So how come my time displacement unit is here?”

  Sarah shook her head. “I’ve no idea.”

  “You mentioned someone called Briggs in Morpeth.” Jason’s face furrowed. “Who is he?”

  “He’s an absolute monster. He talks sweetly and smiles, but it’s all an act. No warmth or kindness ever reaches his cold, grey eyes and everyone around him is terrified. Apparently he took charge of a group of soldiers who moved into Alnwick after their base was destroyed.” She nodded at Jason. “We first met him when you were overheard telling me about the machine and he quizzed you about it. Later he told us we could go and that a couple of soldiers would escort us to the edge of town. As we left the main streets and drew close to the woods they confessed they had been told, by Briggs, to kill us. They said they were sick of all the killings that had taken place since he took charge and blamed him for murdering their original commanding officer. He’s obviously paranoid and didn’t even trust his own men, as soon after they let us go, a vicious gunfight started up on the road behind. He must have sent someone else to check on them and to confirm they carried out his orders. I don’t know if somehow it’s the same Briggs that was in Germany...” she stopped suddenly and thought a moment. “Hang on a minute, he looked too healthy,” she said distantly.

  “What?”

  “He was too healthy. It can’t be the Briggs from this timeline.”

  Jason shook his head. “I don’t understand.”

  “The nuclear war didn’t occur here last week. It happened about six weeks ago. Can you imagine what that does to the body? Everyone in this timeline has been drinking contaminated water and eating irradiated food for the past six weeks.” Sarah snorted. She held out her hands, away from her body. “You’ve just got to look at me to see what I mean.”

  In the darkened streets of Morpeth, Jason had not been able to scrutinise the woman properly, but here there was no hiding anything beneath the harsh overhead lighting.

  Her clothes were dirty and splattered with blood, her hair matted and dull, her left eye tinged with bruising and her lip, still swollen, was cut at the edge. There was more to it than that though, as these were things that would improve with a wash, clean clothes and a couple of days of healing, but when he looked deeper, beyond the superficial, he could see the signs of radiation poisoning. Her pale, lustreless skin, raw in patches, had broken into sores when the fibre of the tissue had started to separate and when she smiled, an angry rouge dotted with small white, puss-filled ulcers tainted her gums.

  “I know Briggs was strong, but he still had that pallor about him that everyone’s had since the war. That was the clue that you weren’t from here, you looked too healthy, and it’s also the clue that he isn’t from here as well. That man in Germany must be from your timeline,” she said firmly, “there’s no other explanation for it.”

  “I was developing the machine for the MOD.”

  “Yes, well it sounds like you handed it over to the MOD and somehow this machine ended up in Briggs’ hands, that is the Briggs that is obviously alive and well in your timeline.” She crossed to the table and picked up the report. “This must have somehow come into his possession and he’s put all the pieces together and realised you were talking about him.” She handed the document to Jason.

  He flicked through the pages and stopped near the end of the booklet. “This is the report I was writing alongside my research, but I haven’t written the recommendation yet. So this report is from my future.”

  “I never left from this time machine,” Sarah said, confused, “so why should I materialise in this one and not in the one I was sent from?”

  Jason’s mouth tightened as he thought a moment. “The other machine had no mains power and would have only had what was stored in the battery. After two days, there mustn’t have been enough charge left for it to rematerialize you, so therefore you would have been recalled back to the first safe machine that was available.”

  Sarah turned away, her face darkening as the last moments in the basement in Ponteland ran again through her mind. The pounding at the door, the soldiers breaking in, the screaming, the gunfire and Jason’s body crumbling to the ground, the top of his head blown off.

  “Why didn’t you just use this machine to go back to Germany and start again?”

  Sarah snapped from her recall.

  “Now you know this man is going to be there, you could have just gone back and stopped him.”

  Her face fell in exasperation. “Have you not been listening? I’ve just told you, he is an absolute killer.” She looked down, shaking her head. “I was as naive as you until a few weeks ago.” She returned her attention to the scientist, her eyes firm with fury. “You cannot underestimate how dangerous this man is. In this timeline he is a professional killer, so if the Briggs from your timeline is anything like his counterpart in this timeline then he will be every bit as dangerous and could well be even more.” She looked at the machine. “Is there any way we can stop him coming back?” Suddenly her mood changed and a flash of excitement animated her features. “If we could stop him materialising he would be gone, scattered into the void of time.”

  “No. Even if we removed the power supply the store holds enough charge to make sure the user returns safely. I could remove the battery, but to do so I would practically have to dismantle the machine. The only way to stop him, with so little time, would be to destroy it.”

  Her body slumped. “And if you did that we couldn’t use it to go back and undo what he, and you, have already done.”

  Jason nodded. “We’ll have to come up wit
h another solution.” He moved around to the controls, activated the screen and his eyes widened when the display sprang to life. “According to this he’s due to return in just over two minutes.”

  The panic which swept over Sarah’s face was infectious. “We have to get out of here,” she urged. She flung open the door and started down the passage.

  Jason stuffed the report into his bag and followed immediately behind. He passed Sarah, weakened by radiation poisoning, a lack of food, not enough sleep and a recent major beating, with ease.

  She hurried after him as fast as she could and only caught up at the door.

  They had to be clear of the inner barrier before the soldier materialised. If he heard the door closing or they were caught on the ladder there was a good chance they would be killed.

  Jason waited, allowing Sarah to pass and start up the chamber, before he followed behind.

  As the door swung shut, a barely detectable high-pitched whine could be heard from the room at the far end of the corridor. Anyone else might have dismissed it, especially as it was so faint, but Jason knew it was the sound the machine made when it powered up.

  “You have to go faster,” he hissed. He looked past Sarah and saw they were only halfway to the top. “He’s back in the building, we need to be out soon.”

  Chapter Five

  Nuclear Bunker, Kenton Bank Foot, Newcastle

  Briggs narrowed his eyes for a moment when he materialised in the brightness of the compact room. He waited for his pupils to adjust from night to bright before he stepped out of the machine.

  He slipped his knife from its housing as he moved to the table and examined the blood-soaked blade.

  When he had sliced the man’s throat, it had caught for a moment on his spine, cutting into the bone. He inspected the edge for damage. There were no obvious signs, but he could not be sure and would want to sharpen it before moving on as there may not be the opportunity to do it again once he hit the road.

  He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and began to wipe the blood from the metal. Only a small portion of it came away as most of it had dried. The blade was sticky and the darkened blood had already begun to oxidise. It would need to be washed, then sharpened again with a wet stone for good measure.

  A weapons store beyond the generator room contained such a tool and he needed to stock up on bullets in any case. He turned to leave the room, then stopped, his body still twisted towards the door.

  Something was amiss, but he could not immediately think what. He looked at the machine, it had gone into standby mode; a small green light indicated it was still on, but apart from that the monitor was black. He touched the screen and the display lit up. Everything seemed normal. He scrolled through the list.

  Journey 012, his trip, completed 16:24. He clicked on the journey below. The details opened out and confirmed this had been Jason’s trip to the same location in Germany. He moved the cursor to a file positioned between the two called ‘Returner’.

  ‘Unknown Journey. Details of traveller: 117 lbs, returned 15:09.’

  Briggs’ face furrowed. “Who the hell are you?” he muttered. He clicked the back button to return to the list and noticed the scrollbar indicated there was more information. He moved the slider and revealed a further file, called Journey 013, previously hidden beyond the display. He opened the file and read the details.

  ‘Traveller: 117 lbs, location: 55.1687°, 1.6875°, duration: 45 minutes, returned: 16:14.’ Briggs shook his head. He did not know where that was, but knew it could not be too far away as Newcastle was located at 54° North.

  Towards the back of the report there was a list of locations with their longitudes and latitudes. He looked at the table, saw the booklet was missing and his body tensed.

  “Shit,” he hissed. He stopped, took a deep breath and smiled. It all fell into place. “You think you’re clever?” Either way it did not matter, he had a good idea of where she had been; it was in the report. He checked the time of return again and looked at his watch.

  “Five minutes ago.” Briggs unholstered his gun and checked the clip for bullets. It was almost full. He returned it to its housing. “You can’t have gone very far in five minutes and you’re going to so regret messing with me.”

  He strode from the room, took off along the corridor at a run, wrenched open the door and started up the ladder, two rungs at a time.

  Chapter Six

  Kenton Bank Foot, Newcastle

  Sarah shuffled forward just enough to see beyond the drainpipe, shattered and exposed in the nuclear blast. “He’s outside,” she whispered, “looking around.”

  “Is he searching for us?”

  “Yes.” She ducked her head quickly back below the level of the piping and lowered herself down. “He’s coming this way,” she hissed, seeming to shrink and curl in on herself like a terrified child. She tugged at Jason’s clothes. “Move back, deeper into the pipe.”

  “He can’t see us,” Jason insisted. “The entrance is well hidden by the bushes. We only found it accidentally.”

  She pulled harder. “We can’t risk it. He’ll kill us.”

  The pair slinked back until they merged with the darkness in the depths of the storm pipe.

  There were no sounds other than the noise of their own breathing, rasping in the confines of the narrow conduit, which was barely wide enough for them both to fit.

  Pressed against the woman, Jason could feel her heart pounding over his own and the gentle tremble of her muscles between each of the beats. Her breath came in stifled short gasps and when he looked down and saw her face, the darkened lines, lowered head and tightened brow revealed a terror impossible to misinterpret as anything else.

  A crunching noise was heard outside the pipe and she curled in on herself further. She held her breath, her heart rate increased, thumping against Jason like a hammer.

  A shadowy shape of a man, broken by the branches, passed by the bushes at the far end of the drain. He moved left, disappearing from view, then a short while later passed within sight again, some distance away, heading back in the direction of the bunker.

  Sarah looked at Jason, her face dropped and pleading. “What are we going to do?”

  “The moment he’s gone we’ll go into the bunker and fix this properly. I’ll send you back with enough time so that you can stop me at the cinema. You’ll be in a public place, so you’ll be safe.”

  She shook her head. “I was in a public place last time.” She looked away. “You couldn’t get more public. We were surrounded by people,” her voice trailed off, “and he still cut that poor man’s throat.”

  Jason grabbed her shoulders, demanding her attention. He waited until she locked eyes with him. “He knew to go to the Havelberg Town Square because there would have been records of Hitler’s activities and because I mentioned it in the report, but he’s unlikely to know where the cinema is. There was no-one around when I left the picture house, the streets were empty, and I definitely wasn’t followed. You’ll be safe there,” he added softly, “and the only person you’ll meet will be an arrogant scientist called Jason.”

  Sarah smiled. She paused, then nodded. “OK.” She looked beyond the pipe. “How will we know when it’s safe to return to the bunker?”

  The noise of a vehicle firing up in the distance was too much for her raw nerves and she jumped violently.

  Jason raised his brows. “That could be a clue. He seems to be leaving.”

  For a moment the sound of the heavy diesel engine moved closer, before it swung behind them and began to fade as it travelled away.

  Jason moved closer to the entrance and looked cautiously outside. He checked around for a moment before glancing over his shoulder at Sarah. “All’s clear,” he said. He stepped outside, pushed the bushes aside and led the way from the pipe.

  They hurried to the bunker and moved inside. Pitch-blackness greeted them when the scientist opened the door.

  He groped for a switch. It took some time before he
finally found one. He turned it on and was horrified to find it made no difference at all and the entrance remained black.

  “Hold this open,” he said to Sarah. He waited for her to grab the door, then stooped and rifled through his rucksack briefly before retrieving his torch. “He must have switched off the generator.” He stood. “Wait here.” He activated the beam and started down the ladder.

  The bunker was cold and sinister even when well lit, but now it was illuminated only by the narrow ray, it was even more unsettling.

  Jason made his way slowly down the steps, the beam swinging wildly as he moved his hands lower a rung at a time, the torch gripped firmly between his thumb and index finger for fear it would fall. The noise of the metal casing clanging on the ladder echoed in the tall, narrow chamber as he stopped and looked up at Sarah. She was now nothing more than a shadowy outline, her features indistinct in the growing gloom, as the sun, already shrouded by a dense cloud, finally began to sink below the horizon.

  He guessed he must be near the bottom, stopped and shone the beam to the ground.

  “What’s wrong?” she called.

  “Just trying to see how far I have left to go,” he said. He continued down the ladder and a short while later stepped off the final rung and swung the torch at the door.

  The temperature had already noticeably dropped inside the bunker with the cessation of heat. It was bad enough outside, but as he had descended into the depths any kind of warmth had obviously quickly vented through the chute and it was now nearly as cold at the bottom as it had been at the top.

  He turned the handle and pushed the door open. The room that housed the generator was halfway down the corridor. He was lucky he had arrived in plenty of time for Sarah’s return and grew bored enough in the six-hour wait to explore the complex thoroughly.

  He made his way down the passage, the light beam illuminating the floor ahead. The cold felt more acute once the inner door was closed, although he thought it may well have been his imagination. The lights added some warmth, no matter how small, to the bare concrete corridor and the psychological effect of the gentle hum of the motor could also not be ruled out.