The Time Hunters and the Lost City (The Final Chapter in the Time Hunters Saga Book 5)

by carl ashmore

  As a soft light glazed the room, Becky muffled a scream. It was a vision of utter destruction. Furniture was overturned; a glass table smashed; a laptop lay shattered on the parquet floor. But then Becky’s stomach sank further. Edward Timmerson was sprawled out face down behind a chair, blood pooling around his head, his body bent and broken.

  Horrified, Becky’s hand shot to her mouth. ‘You said he wasn’t dead.’

  ‘He’s not,’ Drake replied, ‘not quite.’

  Unable to move, Becky said in a whisper, ‘My dad did this?’

  ‘In all fairness,’ Drake replied. ‘Edward Timmerson wasn’t what society would deem a nice man at all. He was a banker, and a greedy, deceitful, devious stain of a man, infatuated with lining his own pockets to the detriment of others.’ He chuckled. ‘I liked him a lot.’ He stared coldly at Becky. ‘Still, for all his faults, did he really deserve this?’

  Becky snapped out of her trance. Scanning the room, she saw Timmerson’s phone, sprinted over and scooped it up. With unsteady fingers she dialled - 999. A second later, she spoke, ‘Ambulance, please. There’s a man … he’s dying … He’s in the Penthouse Suite of the Hacienda Apartments... Err, Whitworth Street. Send someone as soon as you can … please!’ She threw down the phone, then turned urgently to Drake. ‘What else can we do?’

  ‘What else is there to do?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  Drake tilted his head, seemingly intrigued by Becky’s behaviour. ‘Answer me this: why do you want to save him at all? This was the man that killed you. He was driving under the influence of cocaine, amphetamines and at least one bottle of brandy. And, furthermore, he kept on driving after he hit you, and didn’t even call an ambulance. Doesn’t a small part of you see the justice in this?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Really.’

  Drake chuckled. ‘Then don’t worry … an ambulance will be here in a matter of minutes.’

  ‘He doesn’t die?’ Becky asked, relieved.

  ‘No,’ Drake replied. ‘And with that in mind I think we’ll take one more time trip before I take you back.’ Drake hit a key on his portravella and extended his arm.

  Forcing herself to look at Timmerson one last time, Becky clasped Drake’s arm. BOOM.

  *

  The moment Becky’s eyes adjusted to their new location things made sense. They had returned to the grounds of Gillingham House. Straightaway, she sought out the bandaged patient in the peacock blue dressing gown. ‘That’s Edward Timmerson, isn’t it? That’s why this place is on your sick little tour.’

  ‘It is, indeed,’ Drake said. ‘The doctors have told him he’ll never walk again, that he will never fully regain his hearing or sight, but as you can see, he’s alive.’

  Becky didn’t know what to say. And then something else became clear. ‘Uncle Percy discovered Dad beat up Timmerson, didn’t he? That’s what their fight was all about.’

  ‘I believe so.’

  ‘So what happened?’

  ‘My knowledge of this only extends so far,’ Drake replied. ‘But I know your uncle was furious when he learned of your father’s actions, and confronted him with some uncomfortable truths. Furthermore, for some inexplicable reason, I believe your father was racked with guilt about what he’d done. To him, your uncle became the voice of his own conscience, and it was easier not to see him again, than face that guilt constantly. Hence, he forbade your uncle seeing him or his family again.’

  Becky took a moment to contemplate this. Deep down, she knew Drake was right. ‘So can I go now?’

  ‘Of course,’ Drake replied. ‘As I said, I’m always true to my word.’ He unclasped his portravella and passed it over. ‘But who would’ve thought the holier-than-thou John Mellor could be guilty of such deplorable violence?’

  Becky ignored him. ‘What coordinates do I need to type in?’

  Drake gestured at a small black button on the left hand side of the portravella. ‘It’s already set. Just press that button and you’ll be back to your cosy life in no time at all.’

  Becky stared at the portravella. She knew she shouldn’t trust him. He could be transporting her to any place, at any time, but she just needed to get as far from him as she could.

  ‘But before you go,’ Drake said, ‘would you like to know what else I think?’

  Becky was sick of his voice. ‘No.’ Without hesitation, she pressed the button. Immediately, light shot out of the portravella and spiralled up her arm.

  As she awaited departure, Drake stared coldly at Timmerson, who had cupped his head in his palms and was weeping. ‘I’ll tell you anyway,’ he said. ‘In my experience there’s only one reason a man would pummel another to the extent your father did.’ He gave an ugly smirk. ‘I think Daddy enjoyed it … I think he enjoyed every second of it…’

  BOOM.

  Chapter 7

  Percy Island

  With Drake’s words slashing her eardrums like a child’s scream, Becky materialised in an empty alleyway. A meld of sounds told her she’d returned to London. Police helicopters whirred above, far-off sirens howled, but cutting through everything were the hysterical cries of people unable to contain their grief.

  Becky turned the alley’s corner and a horrendous scene unfolded before her. It was pandemonium. People, many drenched in blood, were unified in their anguish; some made desperate calls to loved ones, others had crumpled to the ground as if their legs had lost the strength to remain upright. A tall, muscular policeman was weeping openly, spluttering a futile prayer no one could hear.

  London resembled a war zone.

  Then, through the chaos, Becky saw a tall, willowy man, his long silver hair framing a face brimming with relief, dashing toward her, a small rectangular device in his right hand.

  Becky had never been so pleased to see Uncle Percy in her life.

  In two strides, Uncle Percy reached Becky and pulled her to his chest so forcefully she could barely breathe. ‘Thank God,’ he whispered.

  ‘What’re you doing here?’ Becky said.

  ‘Looking for you,’ Uncle Percy replied. ‘I’ve been searching since the explosion.’ He held up the device. ‘This Alto Radar didn’t even show you were here but I knew it had to be wrong.’

  ‘It wasn’t wrong,’ Becky replied. ‘I wasn’t here.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I was with Emerson Drake.’

  Rage and bewilderment spread across Uncle Percy’s face. ‘You’ve been with Emerson Drake? Are you all right? How did you get away from him?’

  ‘He let me go. He didn’t kidnap me – well, he did... but not really.’ Becky held up the wrist portravella. ‘He gave me this and set it to return to this point.’

  Uncle Percy didn’t know what to say. Instead, he motioned at the portravella and said, ‘Then I’ll need to see that. It might be able to tell us something about his recent movements.’

  Becky’s face grew sombre. ‘I need to talk to you about it. The trip with Drake, I mean … He showed me things … terrible things.’

  ‘What kind of things?’ Uncle Percy asked flatly.

  ‘About me … Dad …’ Becky paused. ‘You.’

  Uncle Percy didn’t flinch. ‘I’m sure he did … and we can discuss those things when the time is right. That time is not now.’

  ‘Okay. But you should know that it was Drake who did all of this. He blew up the Houses of Parliament.’

  ‘I know,’ Uncle Percy replied. ‘The world knows.’

  It was Becky’s turn to look confused. ‘What d’you mean?’

  ‘I’ll explain when we’re far away from here. Let’s go.’

  ‘But my teachers, they’ll be -’

  ‘ – Informed you’re safe later on. For now, we need to get out of here, and we need some time to think. Joe is waiting for us at a safe house of mine, and it’s only fair you see him first. He’ll be frantic with worry. I had to trick him to avoid his coming on this trip. Trust me, my name’s m
ud with that boy.’

  ‘And what about Mum?’ Becky said. ‘I know she’s in Ireland looking after Auntie Pat, but she knew I was coming to the Houses of Parliament today. She’ll be terrified.’

  ‘I’ll get a message to her as soon as I can,’ Uncle Percy replied. ‘For the time being we’ll meet up with Joe and take it from there.’

  Becky glanced over at the colossal dust cloud that had become a fixture on the horizon. ‘Why has Drake done this?’

  ‘I think we’re closer to finding out,’ Uncle Percy said mysteriously. ‘Now let’s find a secluded departure point. I don’t think the citizens of London need to witness any more explosions, do you?’

  ‘Follow me,’ Becky said.

  Within seconds, Becky was back in the alley, watching Uncle Percy enter coordinates on his portravella. She was shivering, her face bereft of emotion. She’d witnessed so much horror in the last thirty minutes she felt she’d never have a happy thought again.

  Uncle Percy took hold of her hand and squeezed it. ‘I thought I’d lost you,’ he said softly, as the two of them were enfolded in a brilliant white light. ‘When you weren’t showing on the Alto-Radar I thought you were dead.’

  ‘Dead? Not this time.’ Becky thought to herself. ‘Been there, done that.’

  *

  A moment later, Becky was staring at an emerald ocean, far away from Central London. As Uncle Percy released her hand, she turned and was shocked to see a two-storey ski lodge set on a wide stretch of golden sand. A car was parked beside the lodge: a bubble-gum pink Cadillac.

  Betty.

  At that moment a strong pair of arms enveloped her waist, hoisting her off the ground with ease. ‘Thank Christ you’re okay,’ Joe said, before putting her down.

  ‘I’m fine,’ Becky replied, staring up at Joe, who seemed taller and burlier than ever. ‘I swear you’re getting bigger by the hour.’

  Joe grinned, before his expression changed as if recalling something of importance. He spun round and glowered at Uncle Percy. ‘And don’t do that ever again! It’s my job to look after her, to look after all of you, and I can’t do that stuck on a desert island in the middle of nowhere.’

  ‘It’s not your job, Joe,’ Uncle Percy said coolly. ‘I make no apologies for leaving you here. You might think you’re a fully-grown man, but I assure you that you’re not. You’re still a boy and there are some things you don’t need to see. What’s happening right now in London is one of them.’

  Joe was about to snap a reply when a female voice interrupted him.

  ‘I, too, am delighted to see you, Miss Rebecca. I’ve been racked with worry.’

  Barbie, Uncle Percy’s tiny robot, appeared at the lodge door, her silver head glinting like a star. She wore a pink apron and held a wooden spatula covered in a gloopy mixture. ‘I’ve been baking Baumkuchen to try and deal with it. Worry is an unpleasant emotion. Quite debilitating.’

  ‘Err, hi, Barbie,’ Becky said. ‘Nice to see you, too.’ She turned to Uncle Percy. ‘Why is there a ski lodge in the middle of a desert island?’

  ‘This is not just any old island,’ Uncle Percy said. ‘This is Percy Island. It has a very colourful and mysterious history.’

  ‘You named an island after yourself?’

  ‘For once, my ego doesn’t extend quite that far. No, Captain James Cook named it after Hugh Percy, Duke of Northumberland in 1770. Of course, we are currently standing here in the early sixteenth century so there’s no chance of Captain Cook popping up any time soon.’

  ‘And the ski lodge?’

  ‘It’s quite charming, don’t you think? I built it some time ago after a tragedy in my life, as a place to come and be alone with my thoughts. I was here when Barbie informed me about the Houses of Parliament.’

  Joe turned to Becky. ‘So did you see The Houses of Parliament go up?’

  Becky nodded. ‘Yep. I was right there … and so was Drake.’

  ‘Drake?’ Joe gasped. ‘Drake was there?’

  ‘Yes,’ Becky said. ‘He was wearing this Mission Impossible type mask – an Optimo-mask, he called it - and was posing as Mister Janus. He pulled it off for his big reveal as he dragged me away on a trip in time.’

  ‘Dragged you away? So you’ve been with Drake?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Where did you go? What happened?’

  ‘It’s a long story, but we went back to Manchester.’

  Joe looked at Uncle Percy. ‘But how could Drake make that broadcast if he was with Becky?’

  ‘It could’ve been made weeks ago, Joe.’

  Becky was confused. ‘What broadcast?’

  ‘So you haven’t seen it?’ Joe asked.

  ‘Seen what?’

  ‘Drake’s message to the world. It was everywhere - Television, Internet, Radio.’

  Becky looked at Uncle Percy. ‘He made a message? What kind of message?’

  ‘Let’s get out of the sun,’ Uncle Percy suggested. ‘I think we need to talk.’

  Perplexed, Becky trailed Uncle Percy, Joe and Barbie into the lodge. Inside, a giant chandelier was the centrepiece of a high-beamed ceiling, which capped a large and well-ventilated room. It had wide plank oak floors, set upon which were a velvet settee, a pine dresser, a long oak table, three shelves heaving with books, and a spiral staircase that led to the floor above. Delicious smells emanated from a small kitchen on the right.

  Although usually Becky would have been captivated by the lodge’s splendour, her thoughts were fixed on one thing. ‘So what’s this broadcast all about?’

  ‘So you only know about the Houses of Parliament then?’ Joe asked.

  ‘Yes,’ Becky said uneasily. ‘Is there more?’

  ‘You could say that,’ Joe replied. ‘Drake’s taken out all of the world’s governments in one hit.’

  ‘What d’you mean?’

  Joe nodded at Barbie. ‘Show her, Barbie.’

  Barbie gave a tiny bow. ‘Of course, Master Joseph.’ With a soft click, her skull cap flipped open. Beams of light shot out, merging into a single three-dimensional image – an image that made Becky’s stomach churn.

  Emerson Drake was sitting upright behind a table like a television news anchorman, his pointed face fixed with a repugnant smile.

  ‘Citizens of the world,’ he said. ‘For now, my name shall remain a secret, but today I have set in motion a plan to liberate the world from its innumerable troubles. I have demolished many of your government buildings, and with them many of your heads of government.’ As he spoke, terrible scenes of exploding buildings flashed behind him. ‘The Houses of Parliament in London; Capitol Building in Washington DC; The Kremlin in Moscow, The German Chancellery –Das Bundeskanzleramt; the Palais du Luxembourg and the Palais Bourbon in France; Parliament House in Canberra, Australia; The National Diet building in Japan; The Great Hall of the People in China, and twenty other houses of Government across the world.’

  ‘Your world …our world … has changed forever. Now some of you will label me a terrorist, a radical extremist, an anarchist, but I am none of those things. I bear no affiliation with any government, any religion, any creed or cause that exists or has ever existed. And I am regretful there have been innocent casualties today, but I’ve been at pains to ensure those who suffer most are your politicians, your aristocracy, your rich … those who believe themselves better than you.’

  He paused.

  ‘So what do I want? Well, in time my plans will become clear … but first and foremost we will have a united world … with one ruler. And that ruler shall be me. There will be no wars … there will be no differences in faith, doctrine or ideology. We will be as one. Surely, that is a better way for this world to thrive? And in time, I believe most of you shall call me a champion … even a saviour. So … what do I want from you now? First of all, I want you to go about your daily lives as though nothing has changed… you will work, you will go to school, you will run your businesses as you have done before. Over the next few weeks I shall insta
ll my people within your houses of administration. When this happens there will be no rebellion, no acts of treason, for I can quash those as quickly as I have acted today. And that is it … I ask no more of you, bar your absolute loyalty, devotion and subservience.’ He smiled. ‘I appreciate your cooperation at this time of transition. Ciao for now …’

  The image vanished.

  Becky stood there, speechless. ‘How did he destroy all of those buildings?’

  Uncle Percy exhaled slowly. ‘I think he employed the same Artax technology he used to destroy Saint Cuthbert’s church in Scotland. He hinted he had future plans for it.’

  ‘And these events can’t be changed - you know, with time travel?’

  ‘No,’ Uncle Percy replied. ‘They’ve affected too many people. The Omega Effect would never allow it. It never permits change on a grand scale, only with small things that tend to affect a few people at most.’

  ‘So Drake’s made himself the ruler of the world … just like that?’

  ‘It seems that way.’

  ‘But there’ll be bedlam. No matter what Drake says in his stupid speech, people won’t go about their daily lives as though nothing’s happened. It’ll be absolute mayhem.’

  ‘That’s right,’ Uncle Percy replied dully. ‘And I’ve got a horrible feeling things are about to get a whole lot worse …’

  Chapter 8

  A Whale of a Time

  Becky curled her arms around herself as though prey to a sudden chill. Drake had made his move, and deep down she knew he had the technology, the supporters and the blind ambition to achieve whatever fiendish goal he had set himself. After all, how could the world possibly combat a time traveller, one that had history’s most evil men at his fingertips? It was an uneven playing field. At that moment, her thoughts returned to Uncle Percy’s words from the previous summer.

  “Time travel is potentially the most destructive force the world has ever known.”

  Emerson Drake had now proved that beyond all doubt.

  ‘At Easter, when we were on our school roof,’ Becky said in a small voice. ‘I asked Drake what he wanted … he said “everything.” He wasn’t lying, was he?’