by Conrad Jones
“You tell me.”
“Think about it,” I explained, “thousands of years ago somebody moved massive slabs of stone, which feasibly couldn’t be moved and they aligned them to point to one of the most dangerous areas in the sea. They are the facts, so you give me a reasonable explanation and I’ll take it.”
“I haven’t got an explanation.”
“Neither have I but lots of people seem to agree with the energy theory.”
“Do you think that there is something in it?”
“Who knows? Mediums pick up on the energy of the dead, right?”
“I suppose so.”
“Well, how many people have died in that part of the sea?”
“Hundreds.”
“More like thousands.”
“And the point is?”
“All those ‘souls’ died in a traumatic way, drowned at sea before their time.” I looked at Joseph to see if he was open to the concept. “Could there be a mass of bad or tortured energy concentrated in that area because of all the death?”
“It’s a bit of a stretch for me,” Joseph shook his head. “Do you believe that?”
“I don’t know,” I shrugged again, “but what I do know is that Jennifer Booth and her sicko friends think that there is.”
“Okay, let’s say she does believe that there is an ‘energy’ there,” Joseph sat down as he spoke. “What is she planning to do with it?”
“Feed on it to make her stronger, maybe or use it to open a door from one dimension to another.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” Joseph couldn’t get his head around it. He put his head in his hands and laughed. “Come on, Conrad!”
“She was like a woman possessed at that farm,” I shrugged, “I’ve never fought anyone physically stronger. She threw me around like I was a rag doll. I shot her in the face with that Mossberg and she managed to leave there and survive?”
“I think you were drugged.”
“How?” I asked, “with what?”
“I’m not having this ‘doors to other dimensions shit’ okay.”
“I don’t blame you, but believe me when I tell you that there were others at that farm,” I frowned as I searched for words. “The room was empty one minute but when she attacked there were other things in the room. Evil, grotesque things. I could sense them, hear them and smell them. The room was heaving with......something.”
“It was hysteria,” he insisted. “Or hypnotism.”
“Have you ever seen the film The Exorcist?” I sat back as I spoke. It’s hard trying to convey an idea to a sceptical person when you’re not convinced by it yourself. Joseph nodded that he had but sighed as if he didn’t want to hear what I had to say. “A demon or devil comes through from another dimension and possesses the girl.”
“I don’t see the relevance.”
“What if there is another dimension, which we can’t comprehend?”
“I don’t believe that there is.”
“Okay then where does space end?”
“What?”
“Where does space end?” I sat forward again. “Does a fish comprehend that the surface of the sea is not the end of the universe?”
“What are you on about?”
“Answer my fucking question!” I snapped frustrated. “If you can’t even try to understand what we’re dealing with, then we’re fucked before we begin.”
“Okay,” he took a deep breath, “I don’t know what a fish thinks.”
“Don’t take the piss,” I smiled trying to calm things down. “The surface of the water is as far as a fish can go, yes?”
“Yes.”
“Birds cannot leave the atmosphere.”
“Okay.”
“But certain birds can go underwater for a while at least, but they have to return to the air eventually.”
“Yes,” he shook his head baffled.
“They physically cross from air to water to feed but they cannot stay there.”
“I’m lost.”
“We have explored space yet we cannot explain what is beyond it,” I tried my best to explain my view of things. “Where does it end and what is beyond it?”
“We don’t know.”
“Why don’t we know?”
“We just don’t.”
“No,” I insisted, “we don’t understand. We don’t understand because our minds work in three dimensions. Everything has a beginning and an end, full stop. That’s why we can’t explain space.”
“I can see what you’re trying to say, sort of,” he reluctantly nodded agreement.
“Everything has to be three dimensional for us to comprehend because that is how our brains are wired up but we know there must be an end to space and a beginning of something else because otherwise it doesn’t make any sense. We cannot comprehend infinity.”
“I follow so far.”
“What if there are parallel dimensions, which exist right here with us but they cannot co-exist in the same place at the same time?” He put his head in his hands as I spoke. “But there are certain places where energy and power allow one to cross over into the other like a bird diving for fish.”
“You’re really stretching my imagination now.”
“Have you ever filled a balloon with water and put a pin through the bottom without bursting it?”
Joseph laughed and nodded. “Yes I have so what?”
“There are only a few places on the surface of a water filled balloon where a metal pin can penetrate the membrane into the water without causing it to explode. And more to the point, it is a state which is unsustainable. It can only be maintained for a snapshot of time. When you remove the pin something catastrophic happens to the balloon.”
“Sadly, I am beginning to follow your point,” he grimaced.
“The pin crosses through a membrane into another dimension but remains in both simultaneously. Pick the wrong spot and the balloon will explode. A child couldn’t do it but we can because we know how to. Now what if Jennifer Booth, or more to the point, whatever possesses her knows how to penetrate the balloon into our world?”
“What if it does?”
“Then something from another dimension,” I held up my finger, “an evil dimension penetrates the membrane into Jennifer Booth. She is the water filled balloon and eventually when the balloon bursts and it always will, the entity finds another water filled balloon to penetrate. She is nothing more than a vessel, which it uses for a period of time before her body deteriorates and it has to move on.”
“And the ley lines?” he frowned.
“They’re like seams, strong points. The intersections are where we would pierce the balloon with the pin.”
“So to carry out this ceremony, they need to be near the bottom of the balloon, or near the intersections to cross over?” Joseph stood up and walked to the patio window. His hands were clasped together behind his back. He stood rigid like an officer inspecting his troops before battle. “Let’s say that I can’t accept that theory although I understand it. However, I’ll bear in mind that you do.”
“Okay, that’s fine by me.”
“You believe that the ceremony you interrupted at that farm gave her an unusual level of physical strength and allowed evil to seep through from wherever it lives into her making her stronger?”
“Yes, I do.”
“So if what we have discovered is correct,” Joseph turned to face me before continuing, “The ceremony involving you is just a prelim to the ‘feast of the beast’, which is going to be held at an intersection of lay lines on one of the most sacred days in the Satanic calendar?”
“Yes.”
“Why though?”
“Maybe at certain parts of the year, sun, moon and stars are all in the right place at the right time to facilitate this exchange,” I shrugged.
“Exchange?”
“Yes,” I explained. “Push a needle into a balloon, if some of the water seeps from the balloon then the atmosphere squashes the balloon. Let all
the water out and the balloon becomes flat. Physics will not allow it to remain inflated. If they leave their dimension, then someone must replace their entity to maintain the equilibrium. They take one from here, me for instance, and one of them can cross momentarily. Everything in nature has a balance.”
“Which means that if you are correct, her ‘power’ and the amount of evil which could potentially be siphoned through, would be magnified in comparison to the ceremony you witnessed. She’ll become much stronger physically?”
“Yes.”
“If we get up close to them then we will be outnumbered, probably out gunned and potentially we could be overcome by a force, which in your experience was undeniably powerful.”
“Yes.”
“Which tells me that we have to do whatever we can to kill her from as far away from her as possible,” he said calmly. “If you are right, then we cannot risk getting too close to her or her people. We need to take her out from a distance.”
“I’m listening.”
“We identify where they will meet. We wait for them to arrive and then we blow them up.”
“You’re forgetting two things.”
“What?”
“The ceremony is all about sacrificing me.”
“I don’t get it.”
“The father of her child, blah, blah, blah,” I rambled. “If I don’t turn up, then will they meet at all?”
“That’s one thing.”
“What?”
“You said there were two things?”
“The baby,” I added. “What about the baby?”
Chapter 30
“We can’t wait until Friday,” Joseph looked at the map. “Have you had any thoughts about where the ceremony will be?” He asked studying the map again. “If we can work out where it will be, we may be able to work out where she will be beforehand.”
“Let me look at the ley lines on the map and think about it. If I remember rightly from my research, there won’t be many alternatives.” I leaned forward and studied the map. I searched for intersections. The single lines ran though very few buildings but they merged near the shore and one area stood out immediately. “Did you go through the numbers on the mobile phones?”
“I did,” Joseph said reaching for a notepad.
“Can we ping them like you said?”
“I think so.”
“How does it work?”
“Cell phone companies can locate a cell phone's remote location through ‘pinging’, which basically means is that a cell phone company can pinpoint your cell phone's location by locating the cell phone tower closest to where your cellular device most recently sent and received a signal.”
“How accurate is it?”
“Not very. It gives you an area so in a city, it’s useless but in a rural area like the island, we may have a chance of pinpointing a building.”
“Can we do it though?”
“The police and rescue workers use it in locating criminal suspects, people who need urgent medical attention and missing persons, but it's illegal for a civilian to ping a phone they don’t own.”
“So how can we do it then?”
“It can be authorised by the military. I’ve narrowed the numbers down to two,” Joseph pointed to a list of scribbling on the pad. “These two numbers are on five of the phones. This one is on them all.”
“That has to be the one we need to ping then,” I asked excitedly. “How do we do it?”
“We need to find out whose number it is, what network it is on.”
“Then we can pretend to be the police and tell the provider that we’re searching for a suspect in a major crime who has stolen the phone in the process,” I shrugged. “I can’t see how they can verify if we’re the police. I could tell them you’re a detective and I’m your senior officer. They might ring me for verification?”
“Worth a shot in one of your books,” he laughed. “That’s up there with your hat and sunglasses disguise.”
“Smart arse,” I laughed, “what are you going to do then?”
“Like I said, the military can authorise it.”
“You still got contacts?”
“Yes, it’s the best way.”
“It has to be,” I smiled. “Saves me from fucking it up, anyway.”
“Exactly.”
“I’ll just look at the map shall I?”
“Okay, you find me a building where you think they may be,” Joseph reached for his laptop. “I’ll find out which network it’s on and who it belongs to.”
“I’ve got a feeling you’ve done this before,” I asked looking at the map.
“Find a mobile phone number and you find the owner,” Joseph winked. His face darkened and I could only guess that a bad memory caused it.
“I found a few of them using the same theory,” I agreed, “but I didn’t know how to ping their phones. I just sent them a text message.”
“Whatever works,” Joseph shook his head at my lack of finesse. “I’m amazed you got as far as you did, no offence.”
“None taken. Who were you looking for last time you did it?” I asked. Joseph looked up sharply, his jaw twitched and his eyes narrowed. His eyes went back to the laptop screen quickly without a reply. “Sorry, just curious.”
“It’s not a problem,” he tapped away on the laptop. “You must have had some hairy moments sending text messages and then waiting for someone to turn up.”
“Oh yes,” I grimaced. “One of them turned up in the forest with his wife.”
“At Miner’s Bridge?”
“Yes.”
“They dragged the bloke out of the river north of Corwen,” Joseph recalled the news. “He had a human skull, a jar of pig’s blood and a ceremonial dagger of some description in his bag. You didn’t know the wife was in on it?”
“Not until she turned up with him.”
“I saw her on the television being taken away by the police,” Joseph looked up. “She was pleading innocence but they found similar weird shit in her bag too.”
“She was one of them,” I assured him. “No doubt about it.”
“You didn’t shoot them though?”
“I would have but the Mossberg was in my truck,” I confessed.
“What?” Joseph was shocked.
“I went to buy supplies and got rumbled. I was cut off from the truck and had to wing it.”
“Tell me again,” he frowned. “How did you get this far?”
“God knows.”
“Mark Friedman,” Joseph threw in a random name.
“Who is that?”
“He was the last guy I found by pinging his mobile,” Joseph looked thoughtful, “a guy from my unit lost an arm in Bosnia. Six months after his discharge, he got in touch begging for our help to find this guy, Mark Friedman. He was his daughter Susan’s ex-boyfriend. She’d been raped in her own bed and left for dead. He’d been knocking her around for months before she finished it. We found him and dispatched him cleanly. The police didn’t have a clue who had killed him. Everyone thought the bastard got what he deserved, until the police arrested a known sex offender a month later. He confessed to raping three others, including Susan. Not my finest moment.”
“Swings and roundabouts.”
“What?”
“Unlucky.”
“What do you mean?” Joseph looked amazed.
“You know, what goes around, come around. The ex-boyfriend was unlucky but if he hadn’t been a twat and beat her up in the first place, then no one would have suspected him in the first place. Unlucky.”
“Never thought of it like that before.”
“You’re either lucky or not but you have to make your own luck sometimes too,” I nodded. “I've had to.”
“I hope your luck runs long enough for us to get this done and get back.”
“Me too.”
Joseph clicked another button of the laptop and then put it down on the coffee table. “I’ve e-mailed the number to my old mate,” he stood and
went to the patio. Lighting a cigarette he opened the door and stepped out onto the patio. “We should have a position within the hour.”
Chapter 31
I looked at the OS map but I wasn’t really looking at it, I was miles away watching images of my youth on the big screen in my mind. Three of the ley lines intersected at the point where Holy Island climbs from the sea to become Holyhead Mountain. At the base of the mountain is an abandoned quarry, which supplied the rocks to build the breakwater. The breakwater stretches a mile and half into the sea and is wide enough to drive two articulated lorries side by side. In the 1800s a grand hotel called Soldiers Point was built overlooking the breakwater. Soldiers Point was now a derelict hotel, castle-like in its appearance and it was the building which haunted my dreams. It couldn’t be a coincidence, something in my mind had been telling me not to go there, no matter what happened. Once a Victorian edifice used by only the rich seafaring merchants and wealthy visitors to the port, it was now a crumbling shell. It had been plagued by misfortune, tragedy, suicide and even murder. Maybe the perilous region of the sea highlighted by the ley lines had tendrils of bad energy which encompassed that part of the island too. It could certainly be considered ‘sinister’.
The ruins would make the ideal place to hold a Satanic ceremony in a movie but as ever, I was not in a movie and the last time I had explored the remains, I was amazed by how fragile the entire structure had become. A few determined niners could penetrate the shabby mesh fences which formed a flimsy perimeter around the hotel, but if they were in numbers, then I doubted the rotting floors would support them. The hotel had plagued my sleeping hours for months and now I knew why. It would have something to do with the climax of my journey, of that I was certain.
It was the building next to it which drew my attention and made the skin on the back of my neck crawl. “I think I’ve had an epiphany,” I said reaching for a menthol. “I don’t know why it hasn’t dawned on me before.”
Joseph was in the kitchen making more coffee. Anyone who liked coffee and cigarettes as much as I did had to be okay. He put his cig between his lips so that he could carry both mugs. The smoke drifted into his eyes making him squint. “I think I met her in a pub in Plymouth once.”