The Original's Return (Book 1)

by David Watkins

  The Original will not defeat me. He was not concerned about what would happen after that.

  He pressed speed dial one, then waited until it clicked into answer phone.

  “We’ve found him,” Anton said. “Group four.”

  He returned the phone to the bag. “It’s done,” he told the others. “Get rest. Tomorrow will be busy.”

  Chapter 27

  1

  Jones stood when Knowles entered the barracks. He threw his book onto the bunk and stared at his old friend, arms crossed. Carruthers stayed in his seat watching the two men, his face a study of impassivity.

  “I hear you’re worried about me,” Knowles said. He remained standing by the door. He felt weary: he’d been on watch most of the night, filling in those stupid forms for Starky. Now he had a pissed off Jones to deal with. It was just past midnight.

  Jones snorted. “Not worried, sergeant.”

  “Cut the shit.”

  Jones exchanged a look with Carruthers. “Not worried, Knowles, I’m fucking furious.”

  “Why?” Knowles gave Carruthers a quick look. His eyes were darting between the two men. Good. He hasn’t chosen a side, not yet.

  “I watch you get all pally with that fucker. He killed our friends.” Jones opened his arms, gesturing at the empty beds. “Our friends.”

  “He didn’t kill them.”

  “Not directly. Those other things that are like him did.” Jones took a step forward, fists clenched.

  “The other things-” Knowles spat the word, matching Jones’ intonation, “-are not like him at all. Jack is just a guy in the wrong place-”

  “Don’t even think about finishing that fucking sentence!”

  Knowles paused. So that was how it was going to be. “Carruthers, did you just hear Jones threaten his superior officer?”

  “I didn’t hear a thing.”

  “Good.”

  Jones stepped forward, fist already swinging. Knowles stepped into the blow, catching the other man’s arm and swinging his knee up into Jones’ groin. Jones grunted, doubling over in agony. Knowles brought his knee up again, smashing it into Jones’ nose. Jones fell backwards, landing in a crumpled heap, with blood flowing from his nostrils down over his chin. His expression matched that of a kid who’d been thrown a surprise party. He’d actually thought he was going to win. They think I’m going soft.

  “Carruthers, did you see what happened here?”

  “Didn’t see a thing, sergeant.”

  “Good.” Knowles pulled up a chair and sat next to Carruthers. He waited until Jones got to his feet. “Well, that was stupid and pointless.”

  Jones sat heavily in his chair. “My fucking balls man. That was low.”

  “You were being a twat.”

  “You were,” Carruthers agreed, “although I disagree with our esteemed colleagues’ choice of vernacular.” Knowles and Jones looked at him with frowns. “Words, lads, your choice of words.” Before they knew what was happening, all three of them were laughing and the tension in the room dissipated.

  Jones reached over and picked a towel from a radiator by his bunk. He pressed it to his nose for a second before pulling it away and examining the red stain.

  “I’m bleeding.”

  “Do you feel better?” Knowles asked. They’d had the disagreement, time to move on. It was one of the reasons he really liked Jonesey.

  “Yeah, nothing hurt but my pride,” Jones said. He dabbed his nose again. “I’m sorry.”

  Knowles nodded. “Me too. I wish I’d said no to this assignment.”

  “Bit late for that,” Carruthers said. “Besides, it looked good on paper didn’t it?”

  Knowles crossed to the fridge and came back with three beers. He gave the first one to Jones. “Claire just told me that the Ruperts had no idea what Jack could do.”

  “Do you believe her?” Carruthers took his beer.

  Knowles shrugged. “Yeah. Why would she lie?”

  “To make you feel better,” Jones said. “Fuck, my nose won’t stop bleeding.”

  He tilted his head back, and pressed harder on the bridge of his nose.

  “Something just happened,” Knowles said.

  “Between you and her?” Carruthers asked. He seemed to give the matter genuine thought for a moment. “I would.”

  “No, it was Jack.” Knowles stopped for a moment, trying to get his thoughts in order. “He was asleep, but he shouted out ‘they’re coming.’”

  “And?” Jones asked.

  “That’s it. He said ‘they’re coming, they’re coming for me’ or something like that.”

  Carruthers made a big deal of slurping his beer. “So what? Bad dream is all.”

  Knowles shook his head. “No, this was worse than that.”

  “Now you’re being a twat,” Jones said, earning himself a pained look from Knowles.

  “What if he knows something?” Knowles said. “What if those other wolves have found us?”

  “So what?” Jones said. “We pretty much kicked their arses last time and we’ll do it again. There can only be about two, maybe three of them left and we’re on an army base now. Bring ’em on.”

  “Yeah, come here little doggy.” Carruthers mimed a gun with his fingers and thumb. “Bang, bang.”

  “I wish I had your confidence,” Knowles said. “What if we get bit? What if we end up like them?”

  “What, faster? Fitter? Stronger?” Carruthers said. “Wouldn’t be so bad.”

  Silence settled on them like a tight glove – uncomfortable for no real reason.

  “Well, I know one thing,” Jones said, putting his empty beer bottle down. “It ain’t right: they’re not normal and I would like to blow every last one of the fuckers away. For Scarlet and Meyers.”

  Carruthers nodded his big head. “But think, it won’t be long before we’re posted back there, I wouldn’t mind having a little extra in the tank.”

  “Are you serious?” Jones asked. He looked at Knowles. “You too?”

  “I don’t know,” Knowles said. “I can see the benefits of the, uh, power and speed, but, I don’t know.”

  “You have to eat people,” Jones said.

  “Not if you can control it. Jack hasn’t killed anyone for two months now, and I’m not sure he’s ever eaten anyone.”

  “Well, that’s reassuring.” Jones couldn’t keep the sarcasm from his voice. “Not for me, lads, I’d rather chop off me own bollocks.”

  “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.” Knowles threw his empty beer bottle to Jones.

  “Another?”

  “Yeah, but then I’ve got to go,” Knowles said.

  “We keeping you up?” Carruthers got the beers and sat back down. “Or are you seeing someone a bit easier on the eye than Jonesey?”

  “Hey!” Jones said, taking the bloody towel away from his nose. “I clean up good you know.”

  “Not as good as a certain doctor we all know.”

  “Leave it,” Knowles said. “It’s not like that.”

  “What’s not?”

  “She’s not,” Knowles said. “She’s, uh, well, uh-”

  “Fit?” Carruthers smirked. “Like I said, I would.”

  “Yeah,” Jones said, “but there’s not a lot you wouldn’t.”

  Carruthers shrugged. “The ladies love me, not much I can do about it except share the love.”

  “I’m getting my head down. I’ve got a meeting first thing,” Knowles said. “Starky’s team have finished doing whatever the fuck they’ve been doing to the bones. You guys want in?”

  2

  The alarm was loud and obnoxious. The simple beeping sound grated more than a seventy minute rap album and he swore at it, before eventually reaching out a hand and slapping the top of the machine. It went silent.

  His quarters were small and functional. Basic wardrobe, small chest of drawers and a shelf for any books. Two folders full of paperwork sat on the shelf, squashed between two speakers which looked like they
would fall off the shelf in a stiff breeze. The speakers were attached to his laptop, enabling music to be played to help him get to sleep. He hadn’t used headphones for a few weeks now. Maybe I am getting soft.

  Knowles jumped out of bed and almost ran to the shower. The room was cold, but sunlight was coming through the thin curtains. He regretted the other two beers he’d been talked into after saying he was going to bed. His bathroom was just about big enough for the shower and toilet, but you could forget swinging a cat.

  Or a medical captain.

  He showered, thinking about Claire for a couple of minutes then got dressed in his uniform and stepped into the sunshine. He shivered; despite the sunshine, the day had not yet heated up. He jogged across the courtyard and banged on the door of the barracks.

  Jones and Carruthers were up and dressed. Two other soldiers were in their bunks sleeping. Must be on the late shift. They’d moved in when Knowles had been assigned his own quarters a month ago.

  “Let’s go.”

  3

  Knowles sat when he was told to. Jones and Carruthers sat either side of him. Jones showed no bruises from the night before, which was a relief because neither of them wanted to explain that. Starky had two men with him that Knowles had not seen before. Smith was the only other person in the room.

  Outside the room was a solitary guard. Security had become more relaxed since Jack had got control over his changing. Maybe too relaxed.

  “The invite to attend this meeting was for you only, Sergeant,” Starky said with a sniff.

  “I believe that these two men may have information that is pertinent to this meeting. Please remember that Carruthers saw the exact location of the bones in the cave; I did not.”

  “Let them stay, Daniel,” Smith said in his public school baritone. “You will not discuss the outcome of this meeting with anyone. Understood?”

  “Yes, sir!” Jones and Carruthers said at once.

  “Then let’s get on with it.” Smith looked at Starky and opened his arms, inviting the doctor to speak.

  “The analysis of the bones threw up some interesting ideas and theories,” Starky began. “This is Doctors Jason Henson and Gethin Shanklin. They are palaeontologists but both are also experts in folklore and myth.”

  “Hello,” Henson said with a deep American twang. Shanklin just nodded. Henson opened a laptop lid, fiddled with the keyboard for a moment, then Shanklin pressed a button and the screen was projected on the wall behind them. Knowles hadn’t even realised there was a projector in the room. He noticed a tiny box sitting next to the laptop. Jesus, that’s small. It could fit in my hand.

  “The spider was extremely unusual. I have not seen anything like it before. That is incredible.”

  “We are not interested in the spider,” Smith said.

  “I am,” Knowles said, “those spiders killed a man.” Smith glared at him.

  “Killed?” Henson said.

  “Carry on with your report, Doctor.”

  Henson glanced at Shanklin, cleared his throat and continued. “I have shared the spider with a colleague of mine. Arachnids are not my area of expertise.”

  “Who gave you clearance for that?” Smith demanded.

  “I did,” Starky said, and from the expression on Smith’s face, he would regret it later.

  “My colleague will be in touch with Captain Starky regarding the spider.”

  “Make sure your colleague understands the sensitive nature of this,” Smith said.

  “Ok,” Henson said. He tried to smile at the room, the corners of his mouth moving up and down like waves on a beach.

  “We have managed to reconstruct a partial skeleton from the bones you have given us, and the results are interesting to say the least. You seem to have discovered a Canis Dirus, or more commonly a direwolf. What’s exciting about this is that these bones have been carbon dated at approximately four thousand years old.”

  Henson beamed at the room. Nobody returned the smile. Smith looked blankly at the scientist.

  “They are thought to have been extinct from about ten thousand years ago,” Carruthers said.

  “Exactly.” Henson overcame his surprise and focused his huge grin on Carruthers.

  “Way to go, Google,” Jones muttered.

  “Direwolves were common in the Pleistocene age. They hunted in packs and to date, most of the skeletons, indeed most of what we know about them, come from the tar pits of California. They are much larger than normal wolves, as I’m sure you are aware.”

  “Let’s assume that we are not all as informed as Carruthers,” Smith said.

  “Yes, yes, of course.” Henson nodded at Shanklin, who clicked the mouse button on the laptop. The skeleton zoomed into view, along with a picture of a very mean looking wolf.

  “It has quite a small head, but extremely large teeth. Many believe that the teeth were used to crush bones, and indeed many of the fossils recovered in California do bear out that idea. Unfortunately your skeleton is missing its head, so we cannot ascertain anything about that. It also has very short legs, but they would have been very powerful. They would have to carry a lot of weight after all.”

  “It’s all wrong,” Jones said.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Your picture. That wolf is far too small. Double its size and you might be on to something.”

  Smith glared at him.

  “That is the other thing that is exciting about this find. This is the largest direwolf that we have ever found. Indeed, it is so large, that it might even be a new species, one that we knew nothing about until you found it. May I ask where you discovered this magnificent specimen?”

  “You may not.” Smith stood, pushing his chair back. All the soldiers stood immediately, snapping smartly to attention. Shanklin looked surprised.

  “Major,” Henson began.

  “Gentlemen, thank you for your time, it has been very much appreciated,” Smith said. “Sergeant Knowles will escort you to your car.”

  4

  Knowles escorted the two doctors across the courtyard and around to the back of the barracks. A very tired looking Ford Focus sat next to a jeep. Shanklin unlocked the car and Henson jumped straight into the passenger seat. Shanklin sighed and clicked the boot open. He put the laptop bag into the boot and closed it with a bang.

  “You guys pay well,” he muttered in a thick Welsh accent.

  “Yes,” Knowles said.

  “But at a price. We can’t talk about this?”

  Knowles shook his head.

  “He’s not very happy about that.”

  Knowles shrugged. “I don’t suppose he is. Listen, the guys that found the bones, they said that there was a carving of a man with horns. The devil right? Like a warning?”

  Shanklin smiled. “Maybe, but probably not. The devil, as we would perhaps draw it, is a recent thing, maybe only a couple of thousand years old.” He paused and Knowles had a glimpse of his intellect working. “More likely Cernunnos, or the Green Man. He was the old Celtic or Pagan god of nature. He was probably carved there to protect the site, a kind of ‘return this body to nature’ thing.”

  “Okay,” Knowles said. Carruthers was right.

  “You still won’t tell me where you found them?”

  Knowles smiled. “No, classified - sorry. You’ll have to let your mate down gently.”

  “No matter, he’s a total knob anyway.” Shanklin stuck out his hand and Knowles shook it. “See you, Sergeant.”

  He climbed into the car and they drove off down the long drive towards the gatehouse. Knowles chuckled to himself as he watched the car go. As it approached the gates, he turned and walked back towards the meeting room. The sun felt warm on his face. No clouds in the sky and no breeze to speak of. It was a perfectly still day. Knowles smiled again and then re-entered the building.

  He hadn’t noticed that there were no birds singing.

  5

  Knowles sat back down. A plastic cup of water was on the table in front of him. He
took a sip, glancing round the room. Everyone had water but there was no sign of who had delivered it. Starky opened a green manila folder and took out a large stack of papers. He passed them around the table.

  “There are not enough copies,” he said, with a pointed look at Jones and Carruthers.

  Knowles picked his copy up. Its title was “Analysis of the physiology of Jack Stadler.” Starky’s name was in bold underneath and below that in a much smaller print was Claire’s name. A stamp “EYES ONLY” lay diagonally across the title page.

  “Proper James Bond stuff this.” Jones muttered, leaning in to read Knowles’ copy.

  “Gentlemen, following on from the analysis of the bones, we have concluded our investigation of Stadler’s physiological make up.” Starky paused long enough to have a sip of water. “There are several remarkable things about his physical condition. Firstly, to all intents and purposes, Stadler is a human being. He looks like one, he acts like one and every test we can do confirms that he is, well, normal. He has a slightly elevated blood pressure compared to his records from his GP. This could easily be explained by stress.”

  Knowles and Carruthers exchanged a look that said: Stress? No shit, Sherlock.

  “He is very calm. He seems to have accepted his lot and has so far co-operated fully with all tests that we have had to do.”

  “He is trying to get us to let him go,” Knowles said.

  “I am not trying to explain my findings, Sergeant, I am merely presenting them as facts.”

  “But his motives have to be important, surely?” Knowles said. “He wants nothing more than to see his wife and child again.”

  “Once again, I am presenting facts, not speculation.”

  “As I said in my email to you, Jack wants to go back to his normal life. He wants to see Katie and Josh. He has asked repeatedly for them to be brought here.”

  “And as I said to you, Mrs Stadler believes her husband to be dead. Until we know more, that is a very convenient state of affairs.”

  “What’s this about, Knowles?” Smith said. “Let the man finish his report. Are you too close to this?”