Diamond Sky Trilogy Box Set: Books 1-3

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Diamond Sky Trilogy Box Set: Books 1-3 Page 41

by David Clarkson


  ‘Yes.’ He did not like betraying Emmy’s trust, but in agreeing to lead the Americans to her, he had already broken his oath. ‘After I escaped from the town I didn’t know what to do. I spent some time travelling from town to town, paying my way by means of the poker table. Bluffing was never really a problem. I’m hopeless at cards and always have been. But then as soon as I was on the brink of losing everything, I could see all of the other players’ cards. I never lost a hand after that.’

  ‘Sounds like the perfect crime to me.’

  ‘Exactly; it was a crime. Taking money from those people made me no better than a thief. I hated myself for it, but I could see no other way to get cash. It’s not like I could just take a regular job. Even if I had any kind of skills, which I don’t, I knew that once my name turned up on any database they would find me. For a while, I thought about ending it.’

  ‘Suicide?’

  Jimmy nodded.

  ‘Jesus – so what stopped you?’

  ‘That was when I found her. I came across her camp entirely by chance. All I wanted more than anything else was to die and that is where I thought the visions were leading me – to my death. It turned out I was wrong. Instead, they led me to Emmy.’

  ‘And she gave you back your sense of purpose?’

  ‘Yes. She also explained a lot about the changes that I was undergoing. She told me about how she had caused the radiation. She never intended for anything bad to happen, it was her grandfather who used the power they created to do those awful things. He’s the one who’s to blame for what happened, not her.’

  ‘I believe you. The colonel speaks like she poses some terrible threat to humanity, but there’s nothing in her file to suggest that to be true. I’ve often wondered if bringing her in would really be the right thing to do.’

  ‘So why do you continue to help them?’

  Esteban replied only with a solemn look. Some things did not need to be put into words.

  ‘I think she’ll be able to help too,’ said Jimmy. ‘If anybody can bring my mother back, it’s Emmy.’

  As Esteban nodded his agreement, a call came through on the radio. It was the leader of his backup team.

  ‘Agent Cruz, why have you stopped – is there a problem?’

  Esteban placed the receiver to his mouth.

  ‘No problem. We will proceed as planned.’

  He put the truck back into gear and continued along the desert highway. The radius that covered the area where the fugitive was possibly hiding was huge, with only Jimmy’s unique insight to narrow it down. They could be one mile away or they could be one hundred. There was no way for them to know.

  ‘Tell me more about Dr Rayne,’ urged Esteban. ‘It sounds like you are quite fond of her.’

  Jimmy blushed.

  ‘It’s hard not to be. She’s very beautiful, you know.’

  ‘Yes, she is; I’ve seen plenty of photographs to know that to be true. Sadly, I don’t think that you or I would hold much interest to her romantically.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  Jimmy was genuinely puzzled by the remark.

  ‘Never mind,’ replied Esteban, who, given the nature of his business, found the young boy’s naïveté to be most refreshing. ‘Tell me what she was like when you found her – was she alone?’

  Jimmy struggled with the question, as if he could not quite remember.

  ‘Sort of,’ he eventually replied. ‘It wasn’t long after she’d lost her grandfather. She was confused.’

  ‘What is that supposed to mean – was she on her own or not? It’s a simple question.’

  ‘She was alone.’

  This time Esteban accepted the answer although he was still not entirely satisfied by it. He did not think that Jimmy was holding back, but there was clearly something amiss with the story. After driving a couple more miles, Jimmy shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

  ‘Are you picking something up?’ Esteban asked.

  ‘Yes, just ahead the road forks off to the left. That’s the way you need to go.’

  ‘Whatever you say.’

  Esteban made the turning and radioed the vehicles following to advise what he was doing. It was not long before they caught up to a road train up ahead of them. The vast behemoth had four trailers attached and was travelling at a significantly lesser speed than they. Without giving it a second thought, Esteban flicked the indicator and moved into the adjacent lane to pass.

  Jimmy’s hyper instinct kicked in without warning. This time he had only a split second advantage on the future. At times like this, it did not so much show him what to do, as guide his actions. He had an overwhelming impulse to take hold of the steering wheel. Much to his driver’s surprise, he sharply pulled the wheel toward him, veering the car into the side of the road train.

  ‘What the hell!’ exclaimed Esteban.

  With reflexes, though not radioactively enhanced, no less quick than Jimmy’s, the soldier wrested back the wheel. The wing of the vehicle grazed the tyres of the oversized truck, scraping away a layer of paint, but Esteban was back in control. The same could not be said for the guy in charge of the road train.

  Upon seeing the overtaking vehicle swerve, the startled trucker applied his brakes, causing his ride to rock dangerously before jack-knifing.

  He was an experienced driver and immediately took action to prevent the vehicle from tipping over. In a regular haulage truck he would not have stood a chance, but the increased load actually worked in his favour. The combined momentum of the four trailers was enough to force apart the connection with the cab in front.

  A cloud of dust was blown back into the path of Esteban’s truck and as this cleared he could see that the massive vehicle had come to a complete stop with the cab at a right angle to the road and the trailers still facing ahead, but now static in the centre of the two lanes. They were also perched right in the middle of a rail crossing.

  ‘What were you thinking?’ asked Esteban, frustrated by his young passenger’s recklessness.

  ‘I wasn’t thinking,’ replied Jimmy. ‘Sometimes I can’t help myself.’

  ‘At least no harm has been done. I’ll make a call to stop any trains that may be coming.’

  They both got out of the jeep, but before Esteban could make the call, Jimmy had seen something. It began as a shadow in the corner of his eye, quickly taking shape and growing in clarity until it seemed as real as the ground he walked on.

  ‘Too late,’ the boy said, raising his arm and pointing at the phantom image bursting out of the horizon. ‘It’s already here.’

  ‘No, it’s not,’ replied Esteban, seeing an empty track stretching out into the distance. ‘Tell me - am I in your vision?’

  Jimmy nodded.

  ‘Yes, but you can’t change what’s supposed to happen.’

  ‘And what am I doing in your vision?’ asked Esteban.

  ‘You’re taking cover like me. There’s nothing else you can do.’

  ‘We’ll see about that.’

  Esteban ran toward the stationary truck. The driver was a little shaken, but unlike the other two men, he had no awareness of the imminent danger that was approaching. He climbed down from his cab and walked to greet Esteban, but the CIA man had no time to chat. He had a plan and if it was going to work, he could not afford a moment’s hesitation.

  ***

  When he saw the train hit, Jimmy instinctively crouched low, raising his arms to shield himself from debris, but he was in no immediate danger as the true impact would not be for at least another minute. This was just the dress rehearsal, so to speak.

  There was no explosion as the speeding train smashed into the stranded trailers. No fireball to give those poor unfortunates at the epicentre a swift death. The collision caused an instant derailment, which reminded Jimmy of when a pool player breaks the pack, sending balls cascading off at unpredictable angles.

  Phantom carriages were pushed from their tracks and corkscrewed into the air. One tore in half, spilling
out passengers like blood, whilst another rolled and rolled as it hit the ground, completing seven full revolutions before coming to a beaten and battered rest a good hundred metres from the track. Catastrophe did not even begin to describe what was about to happen.

  Esteban, meanwhile, was driving his commandeered cab away from the imminent accident. When he had travelled fifty metres he brought the vehicle sharply about before accelerating toward the trailers blocking the track. The ghostly scene of the terrible accident had by this time faded from Jimmy’s view only to be replaced by the real train now approaching. The agent had a sizeable head start, but the train was moving considerably faster and did not show any sign of slowing.

  Esteban refused to back down in this deadly game of chicken. He was so determined to coax every ounce of acceleration from the vehicle that he stamped on the gas pedal so hard that he lost all feeling in his foot, as if flesh and metal had merged into one.

  As he got closer, so too did the train until finally he impacted directly into the coupling between two trailers, forcing them apart and sending each away from the tracks just enough to avoid a full derailment.

  The back of his cab missed a collision by mere inches as it shook violently in the slipstream of the speeding train. It was not the first bullet the soldier had dodged, but it was the largest. He could not believe that he was still alive when he finally brought the vehicle to a battered and dented rest.

  Jimmy watched on in amazement as he saw Esteban come so close to death and escape unharmed. With the trailers from the road-train repositioned, the oncoming locomotive suffered only a graze, as a sharp corner of overhanging metal peeled open a seven metre long tear in its side as easily as a tin opener would a can of baked beans.

  The derailment and the bloodshed had not come to pass. Instead, the train was slowed manually, coming to a safe stop a hundred metres or so further down the track.

  ‘Looks like you got it wrong this time,’ said Esteban, still high on adrenalin and glad not only to be alive, but to also have saved so many others.

  ‘I don’t understand,’ replied Jimmy. ‘That’s never happened before. I can’t change fate – it’s impossible.’

  ‘You didn’t change it – I did.’

  ‘It just doesn’t make sense. That train was supposed to hit. If I was meant to stop that from happening, I would never have seen the impact. I have to have seen the crash for a reason.’

  ‘You did. The reason was to stop it.’

  ‘No. There has to be something else.’

  Jimmy clenched his fists with frustration. He was missing something; he just did not know what. Desperate for the answer, he replayed what he had seen in his head. Despite never having happened, the memory was still clear to him. He could still see the faces of the people onboard. All of them were terrified as in those last moments they each knew that they were about to die. Just thinking about it weakened his legs.

  Esteban grabbed hold of the kid to steady him.

  ‘It’s okay, Jimmy. For whatever reason, we stopped it and that has to be a good thing. If what you say is true and you saw the train collide then we have saved hundreds of lives. Nobody could have survived such a disaster.’

  Finally, Jimmy knew the answer. He replayed the memory one more time and it was now clear to him.

  ‘Somebody did survive,’ he said.

  ‘Not somebody – everybody,’ replied Esteban.

  ‘No, not here. It was in my vision. Somebody did survive. I saw a woman come away from the wreckage unhurt.’

  Esteban was about to dismiss the thought when the realisation of what Jimmy was thinking hit him.

  ‘This woman,’ he began; ‘tell me what she looks like.’

  Chapter 11

  Widespread panic swept through the train. Nobody was sure what was happening, which also meant that nobody knew if the danger had fully passed. They had all felt the impact and some had even seen the trailers from the truck tipping over by the side of the tracks. Only when the train came to a full stop did the initial reactions of shock transgress into fevered speculation.

  ‘It’s terrorists!’ exclaimed one passenger, with a particularly overactive imagination.

  ‘It’s an earthquake!’ decried another, with an equally loose grasp on the reality of the situation.

  ‘Everybody calm down,’ said a ticket inspector, attempting to take control. ‘There are no terrorists and neither has there been an earthquake. I’ve spoken to the driver and it appears there was an obstruction blocking the tracks. There may have been an impact, which is why we have stopped as a safety measure. Once the damage, if any, has been assessed, we should be able to get back underway.’

  ‘Well, I want to get off,’ said an irate passenger standing to the inspector’s left.

  ‘Me too,’ said another. ‘It’s obviously not safe in here. What if a bomb goes off?’

  The mention of a bomb, no matter how inane a suggestion, was enough to restart the panic, and the passengers pushed and forced their way to the nearest exit. Reluctantly, the inspector had no choice but to let them off, even if it was just to avoid anyone being crushed in the melee.

  One passenger, however, remained calm and stayed in her seat. For her, there was a greater concern surrounding the current predicament. Just before the carriage had struck the corner of the trailer, she had seen somebody standing by a jeep about twenty yards from the track. Although she had not gotten a good look at his face, she knew exactly who it was, and given what had happened in the subsequent interval, she knew exactly why he was there. This was what he did. He averted disaster. At least, that was what she kept telling herself. Deep down she knew there had to be more to it. Ever since the tragedy she had known never to take what seemed like a coincidence at face value. The real question she was asking herself was whether he knew that she was on the train.

  The carriage was now empty and it occurred to her that she stood a better chance of anonymity in a crowd. If he was looking for her this would make no difference, but if he was not then it offered some protection while she figured out her next move.

  She cautiously climbed down from the carriage and began mingling with the other passengers. Snatches of conversion could be heard as she passed the people and the speculation seemed to be centred on the man driving the truck they could all now see sprawled either side of the tracks. Some thought he had stalled on the crossing and others thought he had purposefully driven into the carriage. Emmy was more concerned by Jimmy’s whereabouts. She could see that he had climbed back into his jeep.

  Relief swept over her. His leaving would avoid opening up a lot of old wounds. She thought it best to stay behind the carriage until she was certain he had gone. Any normal person would wait around to give a statement after helping to avert an accident, but she knew that Jimmy was not a normal person. The last thing he would want was to receive any kind of publicity.

  All she could do now was to wait. The train was not going anywhere until a maintenance crew arrived to clear the debris from the track and shore up the damaged carriage. She was also unsure if the driver of the truck had been hurt. The front of the cab looked quite battered. If the driver was hurt, it could take a while for medical help to arrive. Although knowing Jimmy, chances were that the casualty rate would be zero. She often followed news stories based around near tragedies and life saving miracles, all the time wondering if he was involved.

  She dared take a peek through a gap between carriages to see if he had left yet. Not only was he still there, but there were two jeeps identical to the one that Jimmy was seated in arriving from behind. She also noticed another detail that had failed to register earlier. She was getting sloppy and on this occasion it could cost her. What she had failed to notice earlier was that when Jimmy climbed back into his jeep, he got into the passenger side. This was troubling as they had both agreed that he would tell nobody about his gift. They had an understanding that to protect both of them he would always act on his visions alone.

  Somebod
y whom she did not recognise was talking to the driver of the train. She had made sure to get a look at every passenger during the three hours of her journey prior to the unplanned stop and he was definitely not one of them. He pointed to the cab several times and she guessed he was the driver, but he seemed confused, as if he was looking for somebody else. That was when she felt the nub of the pistol pressing into her ribs.

  ‘Don’t move,’ said the stranger with the gun. ‘I want you to turn around very slowly and look at me.’

  ‘I thought you didn’t want me to move?’

  ‘Don’t get cute; just do it.’

  She duly obliged and as she did so, he at least stepped back with the gun.

  ‘What do you want?’ she asked, feigning fear and surprise in equal measure.

  ‘I think you already know the answer to that.’

  He reached inside his jacket with his free hand and removed a small mobile device. He held it up so that the screen was facing her. It displayed a photo of her. He must have taken it just moments earlier. It was the first still image she had seen of her new look, but evidently the change was not drastic enough.

  ‘If you’d only asked, I would have smiled for you,’ she said, sarcastically this time.

  ‘Really,’ he replied. ‘Because I thought you weren’t too keen on having your picture taken.’

  He pressed a button on the device and the photograph was replaced by an older one, but the image was still clearly her. It was from her Alex Rose phase when she had sported long, reddish-brown hair and carried a great deal fewer worries than her current predicament brought with it.

  ‘Facial recognition software did the match,’ said the stranger. ‘Although we never would have found you without the help of a mutual friend.’

  ‘You bastards.’

  He shrugged.

  ‘I don’t disagree, but we all have to do our job. Now, very slowly, start walking my way.’

  She considered running, but where too? Instead, she did as he asked of her and as they moved around the front of the train one of the black jeeps pulled up by the tracks.

 

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