by carl ashmore
‘I’d rather die.’
Drake gave a dismissive shrug. ‘Very well.’ He extended his hand toward her. ‘So are you coming with me or not?’
Becky couldn’t bring herself to answer. She had never felt such hatred for anyone until Emerson Drake, and the idea of following him willingly on a journey in time seemed abhorrent to her. However, she was desperate to learn the truth about her powers and the argument between Uncle Percy and her father.
‘All right. I’ll come with you.’ She flinched as she gripped his hand.
Drake’s grin extended. ‘Splendid,’ he replied. ‘But I do warn you that some of the things you’ll see may well upset you.’ His icy gaze met hers. ‘Still, if anyone has the strength of character to handle it… it’s you.’ He entered a series of digits onto his portravella. ‘Let’s embark on a tragical mystery tour.’
Chapter 5
A Matter of Life and Death.
The moment they materialised, Becky snatched her hand away from Drake’s. Even his touch repulsed her. She took a second to take in their new location. They were standing beside a tall tree, its leaves shielding them from the pounding rain that fell all around. It was night and the moon was cloaked in cloud. Looking ahead, she saw a country road coiling into the blackness beyond, illuminated by a single streetlamp.
From nowhere a chill gripped Becky. She recognised the scene. ‘My God!’
Drake noted the surprise in her voice. ‘What is it?’
‘I’ve seen this place before.’
Drake looked surprised. ‘You have?’
Becky could barely speak. ‘I dream about this place all the time. Where is it? Why’ve you brought me here?’
‘We’re not far from Woodford,’ Drake said. ‘A small village on the outskirts of Manchester. What do you mean you dream about this place?’
For a moment, Becky forgot she was talking to Emerson Drake. ‘I have these recurring dreams about it. Well, they’re nightmares, really.’
‘And what happens in these nightmares?’
‘I’m walking with my mum on the pavement over there,’ Becky said, pointing. ‘And she always seems so much taller than me. Anyway, we’re talking – I think our car has broken down - and then we hear this horrific roar. I look back and see these massive silver eyes. Suddenly, a monster appears from nowhere – a gigantic black cat – as big as a car. It chases us and eventually gets me, but Mum is knocked unconscious. That’s pretty much it, really. That’s when I wake up.’
Drake shook his head with amazement. ‘Incredible.’
‘What’s incredible?’
‘Because you were here … eight years ago. There’s a reason your mother looked so much bigger than you in this dream - you were only six years old.’
Becky didn’t know what to say.
‘And something does happen here soon,’ Drake continued. ‘Something that explains your nightmare.’ He raised his arm and pointed into the distance. ‘Watch.’
Becky tracked his finger. Almost immediately, a woman and a young girl appeared. Her voice trembled. ‘That’s me… and Mum.’
‘Indeed,’ Drake replied. ‘Your car broke down on the way back from a friend’s birthday party and your mother left her mobile phone at home. Subsequently, she has just taken you to a nearby pub and phoned your father. He’s driving here now.’
‘Why don’t I remember any of this?’
‘Because, I believe this whole incident has been eradicated from your memory.’
‘I was memorased?’
‘Yes.’
Speechless, Becky’s gaze returned to the scene before her. Just then, a terrible realisation struck. This was the moment in the dream the black cat appeared. She was about to voice this when -
A spine-chilling roar echoed in the distance.
Becky’s blood curdled. ‘The monster?’ she puffed. ‘But that’s impossible. There are no monsters in Manchester.’
‘Monsters take many forms, my dear.’ Drake’s eyes gleamed with relish. He was clearly enjoying himself. ‘Now, settle back and enjoy the show.’
Becky wasn’t listening. She stepped forward as if her body were commanding her to protect her younger self. In that instant, a peculiar tingling sensation began in her toes, before surging up the rest of her body. She glanced down. Her body was losing its opacity, fading in and out of sight. Stunned, she stepped back. Immediately, her body became solid again. ‘What the hell’s happening to me?’
‘The Omega Effect,’ Drake smirked. ‘Have you not experienced it before? It’s a peculiar occurrence, don’t you think?’
Becky ignored him. Her eyes were locked on something in the distance. Two gleaming silver orbs had appeared, flickering like moons. And then she understood. These were not the eyes of a monster - they were headlights. A large black car screeched into view, swerving all over the road, deafening music booming from its open windows. The car veered right, before slamming up the curb on the right hand pavement, seemingly out of control, hurtling directly toward the six-year-old Becky and her mother, who, terrified, had begun to run.
But how could they outrun a speeding car?
They couldn’t.
Numb with disbelief, Becky watched the car smash headlong into her younger self, her small body pitched upward, landing hard like a crash test dummy. Although not hit directly, the force of the collision sent her mother to the ground, her head hitting the pavement hard, knocking her unconscious. Then, barely slowing down, the car swung back onto the road and sped off into the night.
Becky stared at her younger self’s motionless body. ‘I-I’m dead?’
‘Yes,’ Drake grinned. ‘At least you certainly were … but just watch this…’
And as the words left his mouth, an astonishing thing happened. The scene before them blurred, like an out of focus photograph, and was veiled in a misty, otherworldly glow. Becky’s mouth fell open.
As if the clock had been turned back a few seconds, the black car was suddenly tearing down the road once again, its erratic, frenzied path the same as before. The young Becky and her mother were there, too. But this time, just before the collision, a blaze of light exploded to Becky’s left. A tall, silver haired man appeared from nowhere. He charged at her, seizing her waist, heaving her safely from the car’s trajectory.
Uncle Percy had saved her life.
Dumbstruck, Becky’s gaze flicked from a euphoric Uncle Percy embracing the now living Becky, to her own corpse, which had now become a translucent image, as if being gradually erased from the scene. She looked at Drake. She opened her mouth to speak but couldn’t find any words. She felt sick to her core. ‘Please … get me out of there…’
Drake feigned disappointment. ‘But don’t you want to see the happy ending? Your father appears in a few minutes. Of course, he’s rather upset when he sees your lifeless state in his timeline. However, he has a wrist portravella in the car and is able to act swiftly. Of course, as you have plainly seen, the Omega Effect doesn’t allow him to interfere personally, but it did permit that goody goody uncle of yours to save the day.’ He spat out his subsequent words. ‘I’m sure his bloated ego would’ve enjoyed that.’
‘Just get me away from here,’ she insisted. ‘Take me home.’
‘But the story isn’t fully told yet, my dear. And you do wish to know the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, don’t you?’ Drake tapped coordinates into his portravella, before holding on to Becky’s shoulder. ‘And if truth be told, this is where it gets particularly interesting …’ A moment later they were encased in light, and with a CRACK, they disappeared.
They materialised beneath a railway arch. A distant clock tolled 1.00 am.
An array of foul odours reached Becky’s nostrils – beer, petrol fumes, cigarette smoke, and other smells she couldn’t identify. Flyers for a nearby nightclub lay discarded on the pavement, frayed and streaked with filth from the shoes of night-time revellers. Discarded containers of takeaway food, teeming with flies, sat next t
o shards of broken glass from smashed beer bottles.
As a train rattled overhead, shaking the walls, Becky processed all she had just seen. She knew she could never erase those scenes from her mind, no matter how hard she tried. She glanced at Drake, whose features were cast in shadow from the garish neon sign of a nearby shop. ‘Where are we now?’
‘Actually, I did as you requested … I brought you home. You’re in Murky Manchester … Whitworth Street, to be precise.’
‘Okay, then … when?’
‘One week after your death … and glorious resurrection, of course.’
‘And why’re we here?’
‘You’ll find out soon enough.’
Becky pondered her next question ‘So you think I got my powers because I was dead and brought back to life?’
‘I believe you gained them because your death was prevented by the deliberate act of a Time Traveller.’
‘But surely lots of travellers have tried to stop somebody from dying?’
‘Most of them,’ Drake replied, ‘but every attempt fails, their efforts thwarted by the Omega Effect. In your case, however, the Omega Effect allowed your uncle to intervene and change your future. You were allowed to live – fate, destiny, or whatever you wish to call it, elected you to survive. That makes you a very special young lady, indeed.’
‘But why me?’
‘I can’t say.’
‘Okay then, but why does being brought back from the dead give someone freaky powers?’
‘I don’t know.’ Drake’s features creased, as if genuinely aggrieved he had never solved that particular question. ‘Believe me, I’ve studied this topic more than anyone … dead or alive. I’ve even enlisted the assistance of innumerable experts in numerous fields - science, medicine, philosophy, mathematics, theology - and conducted countless experiments myself, but I still haven’t found an answer. If anything, my investigations have done nothing more than furnish me with more unanswered questions.’
‘Then how can you be sure that’s how I got these powers?’
‘Because the only other person to have died and been saved by the premeditated actions of a traveller developed precisely the same powers as you.’
At this, something stirred in Becky’s memory: It was Uncle Percy’s words: ‘I’ve never told you this … but I knew someone who developed telekinetic powers as you have…’
‘Was her name …Hilary Locket?’ she asked.
Drake looked surprised. ‘It was. And what do you know of her?’
‘Not much. She was the wife of the man that invented time travel, wasn’t she?’
‘Henry Locket,’ Drake said. ‘A contemptible man. He wore the most atrocious wing collar shirts. Anyway, like you, she died and Henry managed to journey in time and influence that particular chain of events and save her life. To my knowledge, she’s the only human other than you that’s ever developed such gifts.’
‘But she was uncomfortable with them?’
‘You could say that. She committed suicide because of them.’
Becky’s face dropped. ‘What?’
Drake relished the shock on her face. ‘Ah, can I assume Uncle Goody Two Shoes didn’t tell you about that?’
‘No,’ Becky replied quietly. ‘He didn’t.’
‘Then I shall. Yes, Hilary had started to develop a number of gifts, but this physical change terrified her – she was, after all, a woman of limited vision. She came to the conclusion she was an aberration of human nature. And so she leapt in front of a train.’ There wasn’t even the hint of remorse at these words. ‘This time, Locket couldn’t bring her back no matter how hard he tried. In my opinion, her passing was no great loss to the world. In fact, the only thing I ever liked about her was her lemon drizzle cake.’
The way Drake talked so coldly about the death of another made Becky physically sick. She wanted nothing more than to slap the indifference from his face. Instead, she decided to change the subject. ‘What about the driver of the car that hit me? Why was he driving like that - was he drunk? Did the police get him?’
‘No … the police didn’t get him,’ Drake replied. ‘His name was Edward Timmerson, and he was a very troubled man.’ He gave an unpleasant chuckle. ‘And even more so after what happens shortly in that building over there.’ He motioned over to the towering block of apartments on the opposite side of the road.
‘What d’you mean?’
‘Just wait and see,’ Drake replied. ‘Oh, but would you like to hear something fascinating? You said in your nightmare you were always attacked by a monster in the form of a giant black cat.’
Becky nodded. ‘So?’
‘Mister Timmerson’s car, the one he killed you with …. was a black Jaguar…’
Chapter 6
Love Will Tear Him Apart
Becky’s mind whirled out of control. The very thought her recurring dream had a direct link to something from her past, something that involved her own death, was incomprehensible. Still, the one thing she knew was she hadn’t time to think about it now. There was something in Drake’s manner that suggested something very bad was about to happen. ‘So what happens “shortly”?’
The moment the question reached his ears, Drake trained a finger at the building opposite. ‘John,’ he purred. ‘Your timing is perfect.’
John?
Becky’s heart skipped a beat. A hundred yards away, a man crossed the road at pace, his gait determined and purposeful. He wore a long cream raincoat, collar turned high. A flat cap hid his face from view.
But Becky didn’t need to see his face. She’d recognise her father anywhere.
Without thinking, she rushed forward. The same instant, a prickling sensation engulfed her and her body became translucent, evaporating from sight. She halted with a start. Unnerved, knowing full well the Omega Effect was preventing her intervention, she veered back to the railway arch to find Drake smirking horribly.
‘It never allows me to get closer, either… not yet anyway. But don’t worry. We’ll be able to follow Daddy’s footsteps shortly.’
Becky watched her father disappear into the building, and an alarming realisation struck her. ‘Edward Timmerson lives there, doesn’t he?’
‘He does, indeed,’ Drake replied. ‘The Penthouse suite of the Hacienda Apartments. One of the most glamorous pieces of real estate in the city.’
Becky couldn’t care less about that. ‘What’s Dad going to do?’
‘I’m afraid we’ll never actually know. Not in any detail.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because the Omega Effect never allows we find out.’ The trace of a smile skirted Drake’s lips. ‘But ask yourself one question: if you came face to face with the person who killed your child – what would you do?’
‘But he didn’t kill me.’
‘As far as Daddy was concerned, he did … at least for the length of time it took to find your uncle and reverse that chain of events. Just imagine his pain. It must have been excruciating… unbearable.’
‘So what happens now?’
‘I think Daddy’s about to confront Mister Timmerson.’ Drake’s eyes shone wickedly. ‘And I don’t think it’s going to end well, do you?’
Becky stared up at the topmost apartment. Just then, a light flicked on behind closed curtains. ‘I need to stop this. I need to - ’
‘What happens in that room cannot be stopped,’ Drake cut in. ‘I think you know that.’
Her eyes glued to the apartment, Becky’s head spiralled with thoughts of what was happening inside.
All the while, Drake said nothing. Not once did his gaze shift upward. Instead, he looked at Becky intently, scrutinising her expression, searching gleefully for a sign of the turmoil he knew raged within.
Becky knew precisely what he was doing. Staunchly refusing to give him the satisfaction he craved, she fought to contain the images that plagued her, horrible images, focussing instead on her breathing, doing her level best to keep her face as blank as a portrait
.
The minutes crawled by, and the city’s noise blurred into a discordant drone. It was then the apartment light went out, pitching the room into blackness.
Barely able to breathe, Becky waited for her father to emerge from the ground level door. When he did, his head was down, his flat cap pulled down firmly over his eyes. He turned a sharp left and walked quickly away from them.
It took a further few seconds before Becky could find her voice. ‘What’s he done? Is Timmerson okay?’
‘Depends on what you consider okay?’ Drake replied. ‘Shall we find out? You agreed to this trip out of a desire for answers. Perhaps you’ll find some.’ He entered coordinates onto his portravella and extended his arm for Becky to hold.
Hesitantly, her every instinct telling her to flee, to get as far from Timmerson’s apartment as she could, Becky took hold of Drake’s arm.
The last thing she remembered before vanishing was thinking the next few minutes would change her life forever.
*
They materialised in a long hallway, lit by a single amber pendant light that sent harsh shadows over the exposed brick walls. Great glass windows invited sprawling views over Manchester, the city lights blinking and flashing in a myriad of colours like a galaxy. An aquarium filled the north wall, leading to a lift, beside which was a large set of double doors and a silver plaque that read The Penthouse Suite.
Drake motioned toward the doors. ‘After you, Rebecca. I can assure you it’s unlocked.’
‘How do you know?’
‘Because I do.’
Becky gulped. ‘Is Timmerson dead?’
With an ugly smirk, Drake said, ‘No.’
Becky wasn’t sure whether to believe him or not. ‘But what you will find is the answer to the question you’ve always wanted: why your uncle and father had their infamous argument?’
Becky’s legs felt like they didn’t belong to her anymore. Slowly, she pushed open the door and entered. Drake followed her in, switching on a side lamp as he did.