by D. S Mac
The door was wrenched open, and a man clambered in. “Godforsaken weather!” he mumbled as he pulled in his tailcoat. He made himself comfortable and looked up to see the driver staring at him through the rear-view.
“What the fuck are you waiting for? Drive!”
“Apologies, sir.” The driver clicked on his satnav, and it pinged with new directions. He put the car into gear and carefully exited the building’s driveway. According to the satnav, this would be a thirty-minute drive with the rudest man he had ever known. Luckily, he had only driven Dr Forrest somewhere once before, which had been as bad an affair. Other drivers he knew had the luxury most days and either quit their jobs, got fired on the spot, and one even killed himself. He couldn’t help but glance back at Dr Forrest through the rear-view. Something about the man emanated evil. This guy had come out of nowhere a decade ago, built an empire, and became a tycoon instantly. He had revolutionised science and technology and progressed humanity’s evolution forward.
Along with the satnav, he’d pioneered the best self-driving cars on the market, which was strange because he never used one. He’d also had breakthroughs in medical science with new scanning tech that could diagnose most illnesses in a matter of hours. The man was filthy rich and a complete asshole.
“What are you fucking looking at?” Dr Forrest was glowering back at the driver. “What’s your name?”
“I’m Peter, Peter Davidson, sir. I apologise.”
“Well, Peter, Peter Davidson. Look at me one more time, and I’ll send you packing. I’ll destroy your career and your wife’s career. I’ll make you a fucking peasant! You hear me!”
“Sorry, sir.” Peter’s hands shook as he replied as calmly as possible. He forced his eyes onto the road and refused to look in the mirror again. The anger that built up inside him had to be contained. He could not, would not ruin his family and reputation.
A sudden succession of shrill rings cut the silence, and Brendan pulled out his phone. The unexpected noise made Peter look back. He quickly realised what he had done and focused on the road.
“Yes!” Brendan answered, there was a response through the phone, but Peter could not hear it over the crashing thumps of rain on the car’s metal exterior.
“When?”
“Get to Caxton Street, set up an ambush, and ki—” Brendan looked forward to see if Peter had noticed what he was about to say. Content with the fact Peter seemed not to have heard, he continued, “Get there and stop them. Permanently.” He hammered the end call button and shoved the phone back into his pocket. Once again, he glowered forward towards Peter.
“So, Paul, I hope you know how much I value privacy.”
“It’s Pe—” He looked in the rear-view and decided not to say what he was going to because if looks could kill, he would be six feet under. “I do, sir. Discretion is of the utmost importance to me too.”
“Good.” Brendan did not avert his eyes from the mirror until they had stopped at his destination. He struggled out. Age was getting the better of him. As he slammed the door, Peter risked a look over his shoulder to see Dr Forrest staring at him maliciously. He peeled his eyes away and wiped his forehead with a trembling hand, anger fuelling his insides. He composed himself with several deep breaths and drove off home to see his wife for a much-needed hug.
Chapter 13 - Ambush
As Fergus let go and began to shoot down the torrent of wind, Drake reacted in a split second. He let go and allowed himself to be taken by the stream. As he flitted through the current, he managed to spin himself around and reach Fergus’s leg. It took a couple of attempts, the lack of gravity had their limbs flailing all over the place, but eventually, he managed to catch hold of Fergus’s trouser leg.
They both shot through the air together like a torpedo, the wind rushed around them, and the feeling of weightlessness was the strangest thing Drake had ever felt. He hoped his plan would work, but he had no clue about the fractures’ scientific theory at the end of the day. A gut feeling was all he had to go on. The other fractures that were popping in and out of existence didn’t stick around for long, so he hoped that this one wouldn’t either.
Within a few seconds, the vacuum had them approaching the malevolent black mouth at a quick pace. They could feel the immense power it emanated, the electrical pressure tickled over their skin, and the exuberant heat from that ultimate source of energy flushed their skin.
A few seconds more, and they would either be dead or free. Fergus had his eyes shut firmly tight. However, Drake could not pull his gaze away, even though the wind’s force was stinging his eyes. His plan had to work, and he had to watch it no matter the result. Their feet came within a meter of the gradually shrinking cosmic aperture. Then as if by pure will, it snapped out of existence, the power from the vacuum abruptly ceased, and all that propelled them along was the remnants of motion.
They began to drop without the vacuum, but the speed they managed to build up was enough, and a few seconds after the black fracture vanished, they were careening directly at the blue fracture. Drake had a few seconds to take in its beauty. The crack splintered off in two directions and arched around to meet itself. A neon blue glow pulsed throughout the edges of the cracks, lighting up the fracture’s surface intermittently. The part they were heading towards was a beautiful serene translucent type of energy. The whole surface looked shattered like a glass mirror that was still held in place. It rippled in perfect circles from its centre outwards, though beyond the glass was dark. There was nothing malicious about it, only beauty.
Drake’s thoughts were interrupted when they hit the fracture. The familiar feeling of electricity surged through his arm. Blue and red neon swirls encompassed his vision as if trying to form an image. Gradually they pieced themselves together and formed a void. Throughout the void were fractures showing every piece of history. Drake was in such awe that it took him a minute to realise his vision had not blacked out, nor had his mind. He was still free-thinking, feeling and seeing.
They flew past fractures showing the destruction of an awful war, fractures that depicted the end where they had left. Some were showing Tudor villages and others the ice age. Every single one amazed Drake. He wondered how any of this was possible. Then he had an idea; he would try to will them to the fracture they needed. He thought long and hard about 2050. He tried to imagine some modern buildings and vehicles. He thought of everything, but nothing happened. They were still hurtling through space and time, in an endless void. Drake withdrew his thoughts, becoming increasingly upset that he couldn’t navigate the time-space continuum, and threw his arm out in frustration. As he did, a fracture sped out of nowhere, heading straight towards them, and before he could even think, it had collided, and they were thrown through to another time.
They were thrust out onto an empty street. Drake, to his amazement, landed on his feet while Fergus collapsed into a heap on the ground. It was night-time and raining heavily, making visibility almost non-existent. Landing in a different time in the dead of night was perfect. It would have been suspicious if two men carrying assault rifles appeared out of nowhere. Drake leaned down to Fergus, grabbed under his arms, and began to hoist him up.
“Ferg, you with me?”
Fergus groaned and retched. His head was spinning from nausea. “Aye, I never want to do that again.” He clambered to his feet with Drake’s help, and eventually, his nausea passed. “I’m nae Braveheart, but I’ll nae forget those rocks.” He laughed. “Where are we?”
“We’re definitely in London. As for the time frame, I’m not sure yet.” Drake walked to the end of the road and scouted both turns. “Come on, let’s see what we can find.”
Fergus swept his ginger hair out of his face and into a messy comb-over. They were soaked through already, and neither of them wore the proper attire for this kind of weather.
“You couldn’t have taken us to a tropical beach or something?” He sniggered as he followed Drake up the road.
“One day, bud, one
day.” Drake continued blindly walking. The only thing he had to follow was the faint orange glow of street lights. A few more minutes up the road, they came to a roundabout and a tube station sign that read ‘St James’s Park’. “We’re right around the corner from Parliament.”
“I suppose that makes sense, as that is where we left.” Fergus made his way towards the tube station. “There’s definitely a newsstand down here. It can tell us when we are.”
“That’s why you’re the scientist, Ferg,” Drake quipped with a pat to the back.
They proceeded down the wet stone steps. The pitter-patter of their feet echoed through the corridor. “So, I could see everything in the last fracture.”
“Shit, really? That’s progress.”
“Yeah, it’s the first time my vision didn’t black out. It was beautiful, Ferg.”
“I’ll bet! What about traversing it?”
“I tried everything I could think of to move or will us to the desired fracture, but nothing happened.”
Fergus stopped for a second and peered over to Drake. “It’s alright, Drake. We’ll figure it all out. It’s not exactly a known science.”
“Yeah, you are right.” They had reached the main part of the tube station, and the first thing they saw was a closed newsstand. With barely any people milling about, it was eerily quiet. Drake approached the stand and tried to look through the meshed shutter. Peering over his shoulder, he noticed a couple of homeless fellas. They had walked in from opposite ends and shared odd looks. He reached down to his assault rifle hidden by his body and checked it was loaded. Fergus had taken over trying to see a date from a newspaper. Drake flinched as Fergus jumped back, ecstatic.
“2050! We’re here, Drake.” In his excitement, as he jumped back, Fergus revealed the rifle from his front. The two supposedly homeless guys saw the gun and didn’t hesitate. They flicked their long overcoats back and whipped out an MP5 submachine gun each. Fortunately, Drake was quicker. He had his rifle aimed and let loose two shots before they had even cocked their weapons. As their bodies dropped with a shower of blood, Fergus, unaware of the interaction, yelped and as good as shat himself when shots were fired. He scrambled for his gun, dropped to a knee, and frantically aimed around.
“What the fuck, Drake! Could have warned me.”
Drake grabbed Fergus’s shoulder and pulled him towards an escalator. “There was no time. We’ve got to go.”
As they stepped onto the escalator, a commotion was instigated behind them. Armed men were pouring into the lobby. Drake brought his rifle up to his shoulder and dropped four guys in quick succession. That did not stop them from coming. Shots echoed off the metal steps and rang out down the tunnel. Drake and Fergus ran for the circle line and dove into an opening. Drake mounted onto the corner and let off a rattle of shots back the way they came. One guy on the last few steps took a few shots to the leg; he screamed as they burst through his shins, completely losing his balance, and went face-first into the floor. A spray of blood and teeth skittered along the dirty white flooring.
The recognisable laser sound that signified a train coming sounded through the tunnel. Drake and Fergus sprinted down toward the end, followed by a shower of bullets rattling off of every surface. Chippings of tiles and poster frames were kicked up everywhere.
“Ferg, we gotta jump last minute, lose them behind the train.”
“Ohh fuck, do you have to be John McClane?” Fergus risked a look back and saw three assailants reloading at the corner. He slid his gun backwards under his arm and sprayed the entire clip. They all dove back behind cover as the wall behind them was riddled with gunfire.
Drake changed their direction more towards the track and went for it.
“Now, Ferg.” They both launched themselves across the track as the train whistled past their backs. The metal death can skimmed their feet; the whoosh of air whistled by their heads, their spines in a frenzy from the near-miss. They stuck the landing and continued a sprint up the tunnel towards the maintenance entrances. Drake shouted, “Yippee-ki-yay, motherfucker!” As he shouldered the door to maintenance, Fergus shook his head with disbelief.
“Should have known that was coming.” Fergus followed Drake as he gasped for breath. They continued through maintenance tunnels, working their way upwards until they found a way out. They found themselves back in the lobby-like area with the newsstand. They ditched their spent weapons and ran back up the stairs leading outside.
They reached the top to find that the rain had calmed down a bit. No longer was it like a torrential storm but more of a heavy drizzle. As they ran up the road, a car skidded right round in front of them. The tyres screeched, kicking up black rubbery smoke. Four more armed men stepped out with their guns raised and ready to shoot.
“Don’t you fucking move!” The one that had spoken stayed back by the car as the other three approached slowly. “Kill them!”
Drake was about to disarm the guy right in front of him when headlights flew towards them. Another vehicle was coming at them fast. Drake turned, grabbed Fergus, and dove backwards as the car collided with the three guys with an awful metallic thud. The windscreen shattered as another guy’s head bounced off. All three assailants met the road in twisted, deformed lumps, with sickening crunches and screams of agony. Drake wasted no time and snatched up one of their MP5s. He went to aim at the fourth guy, but he had dove behind his vehicle. Drake wasn’t able to hit the guy, although he was sure as hell going to keep him pinned. He motioned to Fergus to start moving back, and let off two shots, then a few seconds later, two shots more.
The car that had ploughed into their attackers was on its way back. Unsure whether they were friend or foe, Drake pushed Fergus back to the tube entrance. The car screeched to a stop, the passenger window was open, and a middle-aged man leant across.
“Get in, quick.”
Drake let off a spray of shots toward the hidden gunman; then he and Fergus climbed in. Before they even shut the doors, the mystery man was speeding away.
Chapter 14 - Detective
The police headquarters was quiet, as it always was. Since the public had found out that Forrest Futures and all their tech was tracked live, crime seemed to have almost ceased. Forrest Futures was everywhere. Phones, tablets, cars and watches all live-streaming your personal data and location in real time. For some reason, people seemed to accept it, there was no civil unrest over the intrusion, and although Forrest Futures apologised, they somehow made it seem like the best way forward. In a way, it was. Crime had never been lower. There still were robberies and fights, but they were far and few between.
Detective Inspector Hannah Chasey was sitting at her desk, her legs teetering over the corner. Her black skirt had hitched up, revealing a lot more leg than she realised because she was deep in thought.
Hannah had taken to reopening cold cases. In her time as DI, she had solved thirteen cases and provided justice and closure for many families. There was one, however, that baffled her immensely.
In 2020, there had been a supposed terror attack on Westminster Bridge, where the suspects had vanished into thin air. Witness statements were inconsistent at best and revealed nothing of use about the incident.
A black van with no registration or apparent history had been at the forefront of the incident. Some reports had said that a black van was shooting at random people, while others said they saw a helicopter shooting at the van. What made this case even weirder was that two reports were similar: the van flashed a bright blue right before it blew up.
Hannah had been over this case many times and had made only one connection: a day before the bridge attack, there had been shooting through town not far away from the bridge attack. The same black van was also present then, with conflicting reports yet again. Some said the shooter came from the van, while others said they saw a man being taken by two others from the van. A young woman even came forward to say that a mysterious man had saved her and her little boy from a shooter. One day she would figu
re it all out.
Hannah was pulled from her thoughts when the office burst into life. Officers were scurrying about. Something had happened. Hannah drew a black biro out of her mouth and slid it behind her ear under her dark brown hair pulled back in a loose ponytail from the nape of her neck.
The doors to the chief’s office burst open. He stood there and looked around the office.
“Hannah… Jason, with me.”
Hannah looked over at Jason, who sighed as he got up. He was a handsome man with short black hair and dark brown eyes, but he was one of those who flexed in mirrors, which drastically lowered his attractiveness. Hannah was in Chief Baldwin’s office first. She sat down on a worn leather two-seater at the side and balanced her tablet on the arm. Jason strolled in a minute later with a ridiculous swagger. He took the seat next to Hannah, and as he sat down, their legs brushed together. As if repulsed by the contact, Hannah swiftly moved her leg away and crossed it over the other leg.
Without acknowledging the two DIs, the chief spoke.
“There has been a shoot-out at St James’s Station. Six unidentified bodies and two police officers seriously injured while in pursuit.” Hannah went to speak, but the chief held up a finger. “I need both of you down there to find out what happened. We need this dealt with quietly and quickly.”
“Sir, who’s at the scene?” Hannah asked as she made notes.
“Two patrols are there. They have cordoned off the area and placed tents around the bodies. The station has also been closed.”
“Sir.” Both DIs spoke in unison as they stood up. They each headed to their respective desks. Hannah snatched up her car keys and gun. She was finishing clipping on her holster when Jason came over.
“I’ll have this solved by teatime.” With a wink, he strolled past Hannah.
“How about we act like professionals.”