Demon's Well

by E. R. Mason

  The nearest hotel with vacancies was quite luxurious. Skyla seemed pleased. Once in the room, she disappeared immediately into the bath while Jax and Remy tried to pull themselves together.

  There were two beds, leaving Jax to worry and wonder. Skyla soon emerged from a steaming shower wrapped in a towel with a freshly wrapped bandage on her arm. There was very little red stain. She climbed into the nearest bed as Remy cut in front of Jax for the shower, slamming the door behind him.

  When Jax’s turn finally came, he watched from the bath as Remy, in a T-shirt and boxer shorts, climbed into the other bed and switched out the bedside lamp.

  Emerged from the shower, Jax stood in his underwear, a towel wrapped around, and tried to decide on a spot. There was no sofa. Two chairs together would not be enough. The carpet looked thick, at least. As he stood trying to decide, an “Ah-hum, interrupted him. Skyla had pulled back the covers and was patting the bed. Trying to appear nonchalant, Jax climbed in next to her.

  “Nothing can happen. Can you handle that?” she said as she pulled the covers over him.

  “Sky, I’m so exhausted . . .”

  “Just so you know. There can be no conception by people who are out of time. The results can be unspeakable. Do you understand?”

  Jax did not answer. He was back at home sitting on his own bed. An unexpected scholarship to an aviation engineering university had just arrived. His mother and father were in his room blowing noisemakers.

  Skyla kissed him on the cheek, slid one leg and one arm over him and sighed into unconsciousness.

  Chapter 11

  Jax awoke to a persistent sound that seemed both pleasurable and painful. He opened his eyes to see Remy in the next bed, lying on his back, covered to the chin by blanket, his eyes wide open staring at the ceiling like a paralyzed man.

  “Gentlemen, it’s after 08:00. We’ve overslept. We’re gambling against bad odds. Let’s get going. Up, up, up!”

  Remy complained, “Skyla, what’s the use? We get thrown back every time before we can do anything. We’re just gonna get thrown back again. We’re crappin’ into the wind, lass.”

  “No Remy,” insisted Skyla. “We’ve learned something important every time we’ve gone there. We’ve got to keep trying until we get it.”

  Jax rubbed his face and stretched. Skyla was already fully dressed and gathering up what few items there were. He swung his legs over and started to stand, then realized he was in his underwear with Skyla just a few feet away. He paused to consider how ridiculous the self-consciousness was considering the serious trouble they were in. He slid out from the blankets and quick-stepped into the bath.

  “Anyway, here’s the plan, gentlemen,” she called out. “I will rent us a car downstairs. Jax will take it to the nearest sporting goods shop and buy all the gear we need again. I’m going to walk to a shop nearby and buy some damn clothes and supplies. You got that, boys?”

  Jax emerged from the bathroom straightening his over worn shirt and buttoning his jeans. “How you going to rent a car with a driver’s license dated twenty years from now?”

  “I have my ways,” replied Skyla.

  “Okay then, how are we going to get into Demon House when people live there now?” asked Remy.

  Skyla finished shoving items into a plastic bag. “Mr. and Mrs. Ainsworth are going to be the lucky winners of the Chamber of Commerce Small Business Award. One thousand pounds and a free night’s stay in a luxury suite at this hotel with room service. Cash award must be signed for by both parties and picked up no later than noon today.”

  “My God,” commented Remy, though he still had not moved.

  “I’ll go sign for the car right now and park it in back of the hotel. I’ll bring you the keys.”

  Remy sat up. “What about me?”

  “Oh, you’ll love your job. You order three of the largest breakfasts they have here from room service. Jax and I will eat when we get back. By then the Ainsworths will have left home or be getting ready to leave.”

  Remy smiled and sunk back down in the bed.

  Twenty minutes later Jax was on the road. Since there was no internet, the yellow pages had shown the nearest sporting goods shop to be near the Southend Airport. He knew the route well, even this far in the past. As he drove, he tried to reconcile the time differential with the world passing by. Somehow things seemed simpler. Quite a bit of the twenty-first century noise was missing. There were no skateboards but there were a lot more bicycles. There were many more small private businesses. People were dressed much more conservatively. Antique aircraft were departing the nearby airport at regular intervals. How could the world have changed so much in just twenty short years?

  As Jax approached the sporting goods outlet he spotted a convenience shop gas station next to it. Jax parked and as he got out of the car an F4 Phantom streaked into the sky above the trees. There was at least time to buy a bottle of water, he thought. Did they even sell bottled water in this time period?

  The answer was no. Inside, Jax settled for a hot cup of tea well mixed with cream and sugar. As he stood paying at the counter, another car pulled in and parked. Jax pushed open the door to leave, banged in to someone coming in and nearly spilled hot tea over the two of them.

  “I am sorry,” said the other gentleman. He was dressed in a brown flight suit with colorful patches. Jax looked up to say, “My fault,” but instead stopped in shock, his mouth open but unable to speak at all.

  There standing in the open door was his father.

  Stuttering and stammering Jax stood with a small stream of tea running from his cup.

  “You’re dripping, son. I do apologize, I was not looking where I was going. Didn’t see you there, sorry.”

  “No, no, sir. It was my fault. Here, come on in. I’m the one who should be apologizing.”

  Colonel Steve Eaton smiled and pushed by into the shop. He was clean shaven, his brown hair cropped short. Jax stepped outside though he could not stop from staring. He watched through the front window while his father picked out a few things and dropped them on the counter.

  Jax’s mind was doing back flips. So many years wondering about his father, trying to reconstruct what kind of man he was, always wondering what life would have been like had he been around. There beyond the glass was a man he had never met, and yet this was someone he loved dearly.

  Caution left with the wind. As his father came out of the shop, Jax was still waiting. “Colonel, are you heading in the direction of the airport?”

  Colonel Eaton paused and eyed Jax suspiciously. “I take it you’re going that way,” he replied with reservation.

  “Yes, I could use a lift. It’s the least you could do after spilling my tea and all.”

  Slowly a wide smile came across the Colonel’s face and he laughed. “Well, you look like a good kid. I’ve got one stop, but what the hell hop in.”

  As they pulled out of the station, the Colonel cast a quick look at his passenger. “So what’s your name kid?”

  “Oh, ah, ah Ben. It’s Ben Kanobe. What kind of work do you do at the base, sir?”

  “I’m one of those test dummies they use to check how well cars crash, sort of. The U.S. Navy has assigned me to Cutler Aviation to test aircraft being built under Navy contracts here.”

  “You’re a test pilot, that’s what you’re saying, right?”

  “You are very perceptive, sir.”

  “That sounds like a really exciting job. I might like to do that someday.”

  “There’s a whole lot of hours listening to engineers tell you what the beast you’re about to fly should do. Most of the time they’re right, but not always. It’s a tough job on your family if you plan on having one. That’s the only part I do not care for.”

  “Have you got a family?”

  “I have one wonderful woman I do not deserve. Fortunately for me she loves England and the people here. She and I are planning on a family. I may need to take a desk job after that but I’m not sure I could s
tand it. You want to fly, Ben. How you doin’ in school?”

  “Just okay.”

  “Well, you want to fly, you’re gonna need some serious school and some grades you can brag about. Nobody’s gonna trust their million dollar machines to just anybody.”

  “You wouldn’t have to take a desk job. You could move over to flying the big stuff, right?”

  “Yeah, there is that. But it’s a whole bunch of hours sitting and watching the autopilot follow the green line. Here’s my stop. I’ll just be about 5 or 10 minutes.”

  They pulled into an office building parking lot. The Colonel got out and went inside. For Jax, the world was spinning. He was driving with his long lost father and using these few stolen minutes to get to know him.

  It wasn’t enough. Nothing else mattered now. He had found his father and he was not going to let go. There was a brown briefcase on the seat between them. It was unlatched. He raised the cover. Pens and pencils attached inside. A notepad with scribbling. Jax took a pen and the pad and on the next clean sheet began to write, checking often to be sure his father was not returning. His hand was shaking so bad he had to stop for a moment to get control.

  Colonel Eaton,

  What I am about to tell you will seem completely unbelievable. But at least ask yourself, why would anyone send you this message? At some time in the next 12 months, you will be asked to test a new prototype Osprey aircraft. The aircraft will arrive from the factory with the fuel gauges inoperative. On your first test flight the ground crews will assure you that both wing tanks have been filled, but because of miscommunication only the left wing will have fuel. You will begin the test with a vertical takeoff to 100 feet and hover. Both engines will start and run, feeding independently from their own wing tank. The right engine however, will be running on just the small amount of fuel left in the tank and lines. At 100 feet the right engine will shut down. You will not have time to recover. The aircraft will pitch sharply to the right, spin down to the runway and explode. I cannot tell you how I know this. The next time you get an aircraft with inoperative fuel gauges, please, please check those tanks yourself.

  A friend.

  Jax shoved the notepad and pen back in the briefcase just as his father emerged. Back on the road, the Colonel seemed to have become very comfortable with his unexpected passenger.

  “So, Ben, my name is Scott Eaton, Colonel Scott Eaton. If you are really serious about flying, come out to the base someday and ask for me at the guard station. If I’m free I’ll give you a tour you won’t forget. If I’m not free, come back and try again some other day. It’ll be worth it.”

  “That would be great, Colonel. I wouldn’t miss it. Count on me being there in the future sometime. Thanks, man.”

  “We’re coming up on the gates. You want to just get out right there?”

  “Yeah. I sure appreciate the ride Colonel, and everything else you guys do for us. Fly safe, okay?”

  At the gate, Jax climbed out and watched the guard wave his father in. He stood staring as the dark car rounded a corner and disappeared. The guard at the gate began to eye Jax suspiciously. Jax turned and began walking back in the direction from where they had come.

  It took 15 minutes of walking for the emotions to ease up. Jax found himself putting his hand on his heart and having to consciously breathe. At a four way crossroads, he stopped and leaned against a telephone pole. What had he just done? He had broken every rule Skyla had warned about. If his father found that note, his entire childhood might be changed. All of the terrible things Skyla had talked about could happen. He might never even meet Skyla in the new timeline, that is if he lived through it. How had he so impulsively disregarded everything?

  In the back of Jax’s mind, secretly he did not care. His father was there, alive, and real. If there was only one chance in hell to change things, it was worth taking. Jax sighed and looked around. He was 20 minutes away from his rental car. It was time to hitchhike.

  To his surprise, one of the first cars by stopped and gave him a lift. Back at the sporting goods shop, he tipped the driver and bailed out. With ever increasing haste he hurried to assemble the gear that was needed for Demon’s Well, then raced back to the hotel. A cold breakfast and irate Skyla waited.

  “What took so long?”

  Jax wanted to tell her the truth, but since he could not justify it, he kept stuttering his way through lies. “I got held up in traffic. There wasn’t a thing I could do.”

  “We’ll load the car with the stuff I picked up. You hurry and down that cold breakfast.

  Jax had no trouble finishing off the food. Skyla and Remy returned and stood over him waiting.

  “Hey don’t be mad, okay?” he pleaded.

  “It’s alright. It’s my job to keep you two up and running. So nobody’s mad. Are you ready?”

  “Yeah, are you set to go and start all over again?” said Remy.

  “Maybe we’ll get it this time,” replied Jax.

  “Yeah, let’s just click our heels together three times and keep saying there’s no place like home,” added Remy

  Jax stood and brushed crumbs off his shirt.

  “I guess that makes me Dorothy,” said Skyla. She hooked one arm under Remy’s and the other around Jax. “Follow the yellow brick road, boys. Follow the yellow brick road.”

  And together they took the first step in unison but instead of advancing toward the door, they suddenly found themselves stepping through a blast of golden light that led far from where they had intended to go.

  Chapter 12

  The dark and disheveled wooden room was shaking violently from nearby explosions. Sirens from several different directions were piercing the air. The darkness of night in a nearby window was strobing light from the passing of great white beams.

  Remy screamed out, “We stayed together! We stayed together this time!”

  Jax shouted, “I know what this is. This is really bad. We’ve got to get underground.”

  Skyla seemed stunned. “My God, the pulses are coming so fast now!”

  Jax dragged his compatriots toward the nearest door and hurried them along a dirty abandoned hallway to stairs. They raced down to find an empty lobby with scattered broken furniture and missing front doors. The bombing did not cease. The sirens continued to blare. The noise was deafening.

  Outside the specter of war was even worse. Monster fires were burning everywhere. Piles of stone and brick blocked every direction. Broken and bent street lamps lay atop them. A few people were running for their lives.

  Jax took only enough time to discern in which direction everyone was running. He pulled Skyla roughly along across the street and headed over a pile of rumble toward a crowded underground entrance in the distance.

  Suddenly Skyla pulled back and yelled, “Wait! Remy!”

  Jax looked to see Remy waving from the other side of the street. He was running in the wrong direction and looked back as he ran. “I dropped my mobile on the stairs. I’ll be right back!”

  Jax yelled with all his might, “No! Leave it!”

  Remy disappeared back inside the smoking hotel.

  “Come on,” yelled Jax to Skyla. “Let’s go.” He pulled Skyla up and over a hill of debris.

  Skyla balked and pulled back. “We can’t leave him!”

  Jax opened his mouth to protest but never got the chance. A loud piercing whistle followed by a huge explosion knocked them down the side of the debris pile. A cloud of dust and dirt rained down and covered them so completely it was impossible to breath. The concussion from the blast was deafening. Their ears rang in pain.

  Stark fear for Skyla brought Jax out of the stun. He found her body beside him and hoisted her out of the dirt, wiping her face and blowing away the soot as even more settled upon them. The sounds of bombing had moved slightly away. Sirens still cut through the foggy night air.

  Skyla’s eyes fluttered open. She shook her head slightly and tried to look around. She winced in pain and touched one ear. Her first att
empt to speak was cut-off by a choke and cough. Jax held her tightly.

  “Remy?” she said when she could finally speak.

  A wave of fear shot through Jax. He pushed up on one knee and looked in the direction Remy had gone.

  The building was no longer there. In its place was a burning pile of wood, stone, and steel. There was a moment of doubt as he searched for any sign of his friend, but there was no sign of life anywhere.

  Denial. Jax slowly rose to his feet pulling Skyla with him. She looked with him and in shock mumbled, “Oh no, no.”

  Jax searched but there was nothing but fire and smoke. He took a step in that direction but Skyla stopped him. “There’s no place to look, Jax. We’ve got to get below.”

  Concern for Skyla suddenly matched Jax’s despair for Remy. He couldn’t risk losing her too. Fighting his desire to search the fire, he pulled Skyla along the desolation and caught up to others entering the underground shelter. Down the stairs the long tunnel was filled with people huddled, crying, and injured. He found a place against a damp cement wall and they sat and held each other while the muffled sound of bombs in the distance continued. The air was thick with the smell of gunpowder and ash.

  All-clear horns sounded around sunrise. Jax gently woke Skyla as she slept against his chest. She blinked and tried to focus on the tunnel lights.

  “Are you sure you weren’t hurt last night?” asked Jax.

  Skyla voice cracked from the dust and dirt in the air. “No, I’m okay. What time is it?”

  “Somebody just said it’s almost dawn. The all-clear is going off. We need to get back there.”

  Skyla pushed herself up and brushed off some of the dirt. “Yes, yes we should. Will they let us leave?”

  “Some have gone already just to see what’s left I think.”

  Skyla pushed herself up and brushed away more of the evening’s dusting. Wearily, Jax rose beside her. Together they weaved a delicate path through people and equipment and at the top of the stairs stepped into an orange haze of dirt and smoke. Sunlight was present, but the air was so heavily hampered by the fog of war the sky was not visible. The winds aloft swept streaks of dust and smoke by overhead.