TimeBomb: The TimeBomb Trilogy: Book 1

by Scott K. Andrews

  ‘There’s one more problem,’ said Kaz through a mouthful of pistachio honey. ‘I’m eighteen, Jana is about the same, yes?’

  ‘Seventeen,’ said Jana, reluctant to admit that she was younger.

  ‘OK, but that other girl, Dora, she’s only, what, fourteen maybe? And where’s she from? I think she’s from the past.’

  ‘She’s from the sixteen hundreds. About the time of the English Civil War,’ said Steve.

  Jana decided to chime in and back Kaz up. ‘OK, so how is she going to cope with all this?’ she asked. ‘I can handle myself. Kaz here looks the part if nothing else. But do we really need a kid like that trailing after us, especially if we’re being hunted by persons unknown?’

  ‘Oh yes,’ said Steve with a self-consciously enigmatic smile. ‘You really do.’

  ‘Enough with the man of mystery act,’ said Jana. ‘From now on it’s either yes, no or no comment, right?’

  ‘Whatever you say, Yojana,’ said Steve.

  She recoiled as if she had been slapped. ‘Don’t call me that. No one calls me that. I’m Jana.’

  ‘Yes, ma’am.’

  Jana stared at him hard, her lips pursed. ‘Right. You go wait outside for a minute, I want to talk to Kaz alone.’

  Both Steve and Kaz seemed surprised by this, but after a moment Steve nodded, pushed back his chair and walked out of the café.

  Jana turned and considered the boy. If what Steve was saying was true, she and this guy, Kaz, were going to be allies, maybe even friends. He was tall and fit, with short brown hair and bright blue eyes set deep in his square head. He looked tired and confused. She tried to get his measure. Was he a fighter or a quitter? She was sure she’d caught flashes of excitement, even enjoyment, on his face when they were being chased through the labs earlier, and he’d watched their backs. But if they were to be allies, she needed someone with a cool head, not some excitable idiot who thought he was immortal. Plus, he hadn’t fired a shot, so how much use was he, really? She wasn’t sure about his reliability in a crisis, but she was sure that as little as she trusted anyone, she trusted Kaz more than Steve.

  ‘What do you think?’ she asked him.

  ‘I don’t know,’ he said, shaking his head wearily. ‘I haven’t a clue what’s going on, and he’s not telling us everything. I haven’t had time to think, I’ve been reacting since I got to that damned house.’

  This boy wasn’t a leader, decided Jana. He wasn’t a panicker, but he wasn’t the one to take the reins. She was relieved. That meant she didn’t have to challenge him for control.

  ‘I think we need to do as he says, for now,’ said Jana in her firmest voice. ‘If what he’s saying is right, then soon it’ll just be you, me and this history girl. We can start to make plans then, work things out. For now, I think we have to let things play out his way.’

  Kaz seemed relieved. ‘All right.’

  Jana was satisfied. He’d caved almost immediately. She’d read him right, he was a follower not a leader, which made things easier for her.

  ‘Then let’s go collect our friend and get on with it,’ she said as she rose from the chair.

  Kaz thanked the men at the counter, and the owner gave him another dismissive wave. Then they stepped out to the street, grasped each other’s hands and reached out to take Steve’s.

  When the café owner looked back, his eyes drawn to the window by a flash of red, the three strange customers had vanished. He grunted as he levered himself off his stool and went to collect their plates.

  When he returned to the counter he knocked on the small door that led to the storeroom at the back.

  ‘They’re gone,’ he said.

  8

  For a girl who would only that morning have described herself as lacking in all curiosity, Dora was being surprisingly inquisitive.

  It was as if, having made the decision to investigate the noise in the undercroft, she had opened some kind of door in her head and all the questions in the world had come tumbling out.

  ‘Look, I’ve told you already,’ said Simon. ‘I don’t know how electricity works, right? You plug something into the socket and switch it on, yeah?’

  ‘So all of these things – the cold cupboard, the tube of light, the thinking boxes – they all receive magic power through the holes in the walls. And this makes them go?’

  ‘The fridge, the lights and the computers all run on electricity, yeah. But it’s not magic.’

  Dora smiled patronisingly and shook her head at the boy’s obstinacy. ‘It is an invisible power that flows through lines beneath the earth. What else would you call it but magic?’

  ‘Fine.’ He threw up his hands. ‘It’s magic. Whatever. Power stations are big buildings full of witches and wizards doing spells. For definite.’

  Dora folded her arms and gave a curt nod. This was an explanation she could accept. But his countenance betrayed his deceit. ‘You are saying this to make me be quiet, are you not?’

  Simon closed his eyes and bowed his head. ‘Oh God, make it stop.’

  As if on cue there was a blinding flash of crimson fire and three figures materialised in the far corner of the laboratory.

  Dora didn’t miss a beat.

  ‘Ha,’ she said, pointing at the new arrivals. ‘What explanation have you for this, if not magic?’

  Simon was not listening any more. He had drawn his sidearm and was focusing intently on Kaz, Jana and Steve, who were orientating themselves to their new surroundings with varying levels of ease.

  ‘Don’t move,’ he shouted.

  ‘Simon,’ said Dora firmly, as if scolding a naughty child. ‘Put that weapon down at once, can you not see that our Lord Sweetclover is amongst them?’ She walked forward to offer support to the disorientated time travellers, completely blocking Simon’s shot. She did not see the resigned shrug her guard gave as he holstered his pistol, or the weary shake of the head as he tried to work out how he had ended up following the orders of this absurd girl.

  Three people appearing out of thin air did not strike Dora as cause for panic. She had seen enough magic today that such events were beginning to seem commonplace.

  The boy was looking at the laboratory in wonder, shaking his head incredulously.

  ‘That was incredible,’ he said.

  The young woman had less time for gawping. Dora saw her take a businesslike inventory of the room and its inhabitants before turning to Lord Sweetclover.

  ‘How long?’ said the girl.

  Sweetclover glanced at his watch. ‘Five minutes. Right now Kaz and I are breaking you out of your cell two floors above. We have to hurry. Kaz, you talk to Dora. Jana, and you,’ he gestured towards Simon, ‘help me lay these charges.’ He reached into his pockets and pulled out four small grey discs. He handed two to the girl he had called Jana.

  ‘Yes, sir,’ said Simon, although his face betrayed his alarm and uncertainty.

  ‘My lord, may I ask what is happening …’ asked Dora, but he ignored her question. The boy put himself in her way and steered her to one side.

  ‘Hi,’ he said, smiling. ‘My name’s Kaz, we’ve not been properly introduced.’

  Dora was suspicious of this young man and of the frantic activity of her lord, Simon and the other young woman, but she was not about to forget her manners.

  ‘I am Dora,’ she replied primly. ‘Pleased to meet you again, sir.’

  The boy laughed and Dora wondered why it was that young men seemed to find her so amusing today.

  ‘Please, no sirs,’ he said. ‘I am just Kaz.’

  Dora was not certain that she wished to be so informal with this strange boy, but he appeared to offer her no choice in the matter. In the absence of anything else to do, Dora defaulted to questioning him, ignoring the little voice at the back of her mind that meekly suggested the prudent course would be to try silence for a while.

  ‘What are they doing?’ She indicated his companions and Simon, who was obeying Lord Sweetclover’s orders but looked ext
remely dubious about doing so.

  ‘Preparing our escape,’ replied Kaz.

  ‘But …’

  Kaz held up his hand to silence her and she clamped her mouth shut. ‘There’s not time to explain everything, but you, me and Jana,’ he indicated the other girl, who was sticking things to the door frame, ‘have all travelled in time.’

  Dora scowled. She knew this full well.

  ‘Jana is from the future,’ Kaz continued. ‘I am from this time, you are from the past. See?’

  ‘That girl is from the future?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘But this is the future.’

  ‘No, this is the pres … oh, what’s the use. Yes, this is your future. She is from even farther into the future. You see?’

  Dora nodded slowly.

  ‘OK, good. So, this place is a laboratory run by very nasty people who want to lock us up, maybe even kill us.’

  This Dora could not accept. ‘You are mistaken, this place is overseen by my Lord Sweetclover, who has taken great care of me.’ She turned to Sweetclover. ‘My lord, this boy maligns you.’

  ‘Two minutes,’ said Lord Sweetclover, handing another small grey chip to Simon, who was looking more and more uneasy.

  There were loud bangs in the distance.

  ‘There is a battle approaching,’ she said, as the first hint of fear broke through her confusion and disdain.

  ‘Wrap it up, Kaz,’ said Lord Sweetclover, standing back to admire the placement of the strange grey chips arranged around the door.

  ‘OK. Listen.’ Kaz leaned forward and placed his hands on Dora’s shoulders, staring intently into her eyes as if trying to convince her by force of will. ‘Here’s what will happen. In a minute we are going to blow that door off. Then you, me and Jana will join hands and travel somewhere safe. Once there, we can talk, and I promise we will tell you everything we know. But right now, I need you to trust me.’

  Dora was inclined to like the boy. His eyes were kind and his words were persuasive. But she did not know him, and she was nobody’s fool. She turned to the one person in the room she did trust.

  ‘My lord?’ she asked.

  ‘Do as he says, Dora,’ said Lord Sweetclover. ‘You will have your answers soon enough.’

  Dora regarded Sweetclover curiously. Something about him was wrong, but she was unable to put her finger on what it was. She could see that Simon was also becoming wary of him.

  Everybody watched as Sweetclover hurried over to a large metal door that had a kind of small wheel set into it. He began to spin the wheel left, then right, then left. To Dora his actions looked random and silly, but after a few turns he grabbed a handle and pulled it down, causing the door to give a mighty click and swing open.

  He vanished inside for a moment then emerged and threw a small container to Jana.

  ‘Yes,’ said the girl as she cracked the container open and pulled out a small black square which she slapped onto the back of her neck. Dora heard a soft sucking sound as Jana’s body gave a single massive shiver, then she stood upright, her eyes blazing. ‘Oh, that is so much better,’ she said. ‘Thank you, whoever you are.’

  ‘You’re welcome,’ said Sweetclover. ‘And this is for you, Kaz.’ He swung the backpack off his shoulder and tossed it to the boy, who strapped it to his own back without a word. Then Sweetclover stepped forward and placed his open hand on the window in the door with his fingers splayed out.

  ‘Five,’ he said.

  ‘Step away from the door.’

  Dora looked around to see Simon, weapon drawn and aimed at Lord Sweetclover.

  ‘Simon, no,’ she said.

  Lord Sweetclover closed his thumb.

  ‘Four.’

  ‘I don’t know who this guy is or what’s going on here, but this isn’t my boss,’ said Simon.

  ‘Three.’

  There was a loud crash and Simon crumpled to the floor to reveal Jana standing behind him, a large metal tray – now dented by Simon’s head – held high.

  ‘Hold hands, now,’ yelled Lord Sweetclover. Jana dropped the tray and ran over to Dora, grasping her right hand tightly. Kaz stepped forward and grasped her left. A familiar red fire began to spark and flame in the air around them.

  ‘Where shall we think of?’ he yelled.

  ‘Two,’ was the only reply he received.

  ‘No,’ said Dora, and she tried with all her might to pull her hands free.

  There was a deafening roar as the door exploded and flew outwards into the corridor beyond.

  Jana and Kaz still held Dora’s hands tightly and she saw, through the flashes, Lord Sweetclover raising his strange weapon and firing out of the door into the smoke beyond.

  ‘But where are we going?’ said Kaz urgently.

  The red fire around her grew brighter and stronger. Dora felt a familiar, terrible emptiness in her stomach and knew that she was beginning to slip away from this place. She cried out again in protest, but there was nothing she could do. The room began to blur and fade.

  And just before it winked out of existence she saw Lord Sweetclover jerk and shake, arcs of blood spraying from the holes that appeared in his chest and belly. He staggered under the force of the attack and his face began to blur and shift. Finally, all she was able to make out was the way his mouth formed a perfect O of surprise …

  … and then darkness and cold and the faint drip of water …

  … and a scream.

  Simon snapped awake.

  There was deafening gunfire, smoke and a bright red flash of light through the haze which silhouetted three figures that were there one moment and gone the next.

  Between him and the silhouettes was something far more shocking. His boss, Henry Sweetclover, was flying backwards through the air, blood spraying from a series of bullet wounds across his torso.

  Simon reached for his gun, and then …

  9

  The darkness was absolute.

  Jana pulled her right hand free of Kaz’s and then, using the hand she was still holding as a guide, she estimated the location of Dora’s face and delivered a hard slap. The screaming stopped and Dora’s hand pulled itself out of hers. Jana wished she could see the hysterical girl’s face. She would be able to tell a lot about her character if she could see whether her reaction was shock or outrage.

  ‘Did you just slap her?’ Kaz’s voice seemed ghostly and disembodied, issuing from the stygian gloom.

  ‘Yes she did,’ said Dora.

  Jana smiled. Outrage, then. That was good, it indicated some strength of character underneath the terror. She could work with that.

  ‘I am sorry, Dora,’ said Jana, although she was anything but. ‘You were hysterical. Are you both OK? No wounds from shots or shrapnel?’

  There was a pause as both Dora and Kaz checked themselves for injuries, then they both indicated that they had none.

  ‘Where are we?’ That was Dora, skirting along the edge of hysteria again already.

  ‘Steve said something about a cavern,’ explained Kaz. He then gave a short yell, which echoed back at them tenfold. ‘And this place is big, dark and cold, so …’

  ‘He knew we were coming here,’ said Jana. ‘Kaz, check the backpack. He’s probably given us flashlights or something.’

  Jana heard the rustling as Kaz unslung the pack, unzipped it and began rummaging around inside. A moment later there was a soft click and there he was, holding a small gas lamp, grinning, haloed by his own frosted breath.

  The lamp was small but it cast a powerful glow, highlighting the crannies and crevices of the rock that enclosed them. They were definitely underground, in a huge space the size of a cathedral. Stalactites hung from the arches of the roof, high above them, like spears waiting to fall. Dumpy stalagmites dotted the floor, which sloped away to the right. Powerful as the lantern was, it did not entirely reach the edges of the space. Shadows and phantoms danced at the periphery of their light-made world.

  Jana took everything in with a glance t
hen turned her attention to working out the implications.

  ‘OK,’ she said. ‘That lantern’s gas powered. Kaz, are there any spare canisters in the pack?’

  The boy rummaged again and then shook his head.

  ‘That means we’re on a clock,’ said Jana. ‘We need to use the time we’ve got light to find a way out of this place.’

  Kaz tipped the rucksack upside down and its contents scattered onto the damp rock. Dora gave a squeal of delight and thrust her hand into the pile of stuff, grabbing a bar of chocolate which she greedily unwrapped and began to devour. Jana did not scold the child – at least this way she was occupied and silent.

  Jana joined Kaz in his examination of the bag’s contents as Dora perched herself on top of a stalagmite and watched, the sounds of her chocolate feast loud and distracting; she chomped with her mouth open.

  The pile of stuff contained three woolly hat, glove and scarf combos, which Kaz distributed. There were shoes and socks for Dora, and fleeces for both the girls. Kaz helped Dora master the laces after she and Jana had wrapped themselves against the cold that was beginning to numb their extremities.

  There was also one pair of binoculars and three plastic boxes, each containing a packed lunch composed of ham sandwiches, water, apple and biscuits. Jana shook her head in wonder. ‘It’s like he’s packed for a school trip.’

  There was also a compass and a sharp hunting knife and leather sheath, which Kaz attached to his belt without asking – a unilateral decision which made Jana scowl even as she chose not to challenge it.

  ‘Pop the lunches back in the bag,’ she said. She wasn’t hungry, but she spent a moment trying to remember when she had last eaten. She was shocked to realise it had only been fifteen minutes since she’d been sat in a café in Beirut eating wild meat and flatbread.

  There was a scrunching sound as Dora balled up the chocolate wrapper and dropped it on the ground.

  ‘I think I have been here before,’ said the girl.

  ‘What?’ asked Kaz, astonished by her claim.

  ‘When I crossed the bridge of time I was briefly waylaid in different places before I returned to Sweetclover Hall,’ explained Dora primly. ‘This was one such.’