'Readings like this?'
'No. This was before we had detection equipment. Some of the founders were convinced Meadowbank was connected to Shael. Nothing substantial ever came from it though.'
'Sounds like the place to coordinate the search.'
'Indeed. You'll be looking for an old mansion. Uninhabited for decades now. That was where most of the resources were sent. I will be very interested to see what you come up with there Short, very interested indeed.'
'Certainly sir. I will report once on site. Any idea what we should be looking for?'
'No. Like I said that whole area - including the mansion - was a place of interest for years. Nothing was ever found.'
She keyed in the village coordinates on the Land Rovers Sat Nav. 'ETA is 52 minutes.'
'Excellent. I don't need to remind you speed is of the essence here Short.'
'No sir, understood. One last thing.'
'Yes?'
'Do you think the two incidents could be related?'
The voice paused and Short thought for a minute the mobile signal had dropped out. She was about to ask the question again when the voice spoke. 'We've no concrete proof of any connection,' he said cautiously, 'But two separate Shael activations in the space of a week in close proximity to each other...there has to be some connection.'
'Understood sir. I will report in once at the location.'
'Very well. Don't take any chances. This could be a substantial find.'
Before she could respond the line went dead. The driver - Taylor - pointed to the Sat-Nav. 'Is that final coordinates?' he said.
'Yes. I need us there before that signal dies.'
'Very good ma'am.'
He floored the cruiser putting space between it and the following two. Short looked out the window as the green hedges shot past in a blur. She'd taken her jacket off at the rendezvous point, but could already feel sweat patches forming under the armpits of her open collared blue shirt.
Considering the high quality air-conditioning of the Land Rover, she couldn't be put all of it down to the heat.
2
Ten minutes after Andrew had left them, Gillian's pod hissed open. It took a few more minutes for her to come fully awake and a lot longer to comprehend her surroundings. She sat up blinking at the glare of the medical lab.
'Thomas? Is that you? Where am I?'
Thomas and George were stood either side and helped her slide her legs off the gurney. 'Believe me mum,' said Thomas, 'That's a real long story.'
'George?' she said, 'Why are you here?'
'Hello Gillian. Thomas asked for my help. I was happy to oblige.'
She took in the rest of the room, including the shattered glass panel. 'What is this place? What happened here?'
George helped her to her feet. She was a little unsteady, but apart from that, seemed physically unharmed. 'Gillian,' said George, 'We have a bit of a journey back home, how about we fill in the blanks on the way? Can you walk?'
'Oh, ok. Yes I'm fine to walk. Where's Lucas? Is he alright?'
'Lucas is fine mum. He's back home with Gladys and Margaret. They said they would look after him until we came back.'
'Why can't I remember anything?'
'It'll come,' said George, 'What's the last thing you do remember?'
'I remember walking home from work, and then...' she trailed off, eyes blank, 'What's going on here?'
George and Thomas shared a look. They knew they couldn't avoid the question forever. 'Really best if we get going for now,' said George.
They helped her through the remains of the shattered window, through the medical reception and into the overgrown second concourse. Gillian stared wide eyed through the whole journey, marvelling at the strange white architecture. Thankfully though, the questioning had stopped for now. They made the dusty office and came out on the upper levels overlooking the main concourse.
'I need to rest up a little, boys,' she said and sat in almost the exact same spot Andrew had, hours before. George had bottled some water from the lab which he offered her. She took two big gulps and then motioned to the concourse below. 'Where's all the people? This place is so polished, it's strange not to have people around. Are we in a shopping mall?'
'No it's not a mall, mum. As for the people, we haven't figured where they are either.'
She took another couple of sips and handed the bottle back to George. 'Thanks for that. I think I'm good to go.'
They found their way back to the warehouse corridor and were relieved to find their electric truck still charging and reading 100% power. Gillian took the passenger seat leaving Thomas to cling on to the loading platform at the rear. The journey was as eerie as before, but it seemed to take them less time. Before long, the pitch blackness was replaced by dull grey as they neared the front reception desk. The power gave out before they reached the entrance, but the truck had done its job and a part of George was sorry to leave it behind.
They slowly crossed the compound, aware that Gillian was starting to flag. Thomas let out an audible sigh of relief when he spotted the portal still open and showing the dingy room beyond.
'My god!' said Gillian, 'Who's that?' she was staring at the lifeless figure of Peter under the dirty tarpaulin.
'We're not sure,' Thomas lied, 'We came across it like that.' He looked at George for support and got a nod in return. For now it would do, but they both knew a day would come when the truth would have to come out.
With a little coercing, they got Gillian through the portal. Once they were all through, Thomas shut down the gateway leaving them bathed in the gentle hue of the blue lights. They headed along the corridor into the billiard room and then George paused.
'You two go on,' he said, 'There's something I just need to do.' He nodded to Thomas who knowingly nodded back and unquestioningly ushered his mother past the billiard table to the staircase. George waited until they had disappeared and turned back to the Shael gate room.
His crude plan involved activating the tunnel door mechanism and rolling in the last remaining grenade just before the door fully closed. The blast should be confined by the concrete of the door and should be more than enough to permanently put the Shael gate out of use. He pulled the grenade from his pocket and held his hand on the central blue light. The door immediately began to creep shut; it's ancient workings grinding angrily. He pulled the pin from the grenade and then inexplicably felt movement behind him coming down the stairs.
He was about to berate Thomas for not following instructions, instead his words stuck in his throat. It wasn't Thomas, it was a severe looking woman in a smart blue business shirt. She couldn't have been more than five feet tall which made the modern looking pistol she was levelling at him, look massive in her hands.
'I can give you a hundred reasons why you shouldn't do that,' she said, motioning towards the grenade, 'The main reason being I have absolutely no compunction against blowing your head off.'
The door was almost fully closed and Andrews last words were echoing round his head. He'd warned about the gate getting into the wrong hands and this tiny woman in front of him looked exactly that. He wasn't scared of dying. Living to nearly ninety and in a suicidal haze for the last five years would do that. He had also seen dozens of braver men than him lose their nerve when it came to ending a man's life; especially an unarmed one. With nothing left to lose, he decided to call her bluff and in one swift action (swift for a ninety year old anyway) he tossed the live grenade through the sliver of door and dived as far to the right as he could.
3
Short didn't fire. She was never going to. She may strut the stuff - especially in front of the much more burly team members - but she was no killer. In slow motion she saw the old man roll the grenade through the closing door and then attempt the worst dive she had ever seen to get clear of the blast area.
Without thinking she shouted. 'Grenade!' to the team coming down the stairs and threw herself to the ground under the billiard table. There was a few d
ead seconds followed by a loud, but strangely muffled roar from beyond the door. The room immediately filled with a choking dust that had been left undisturbed for decades, but apart from that, the explosion appeared to be contained.
Short got to her feet, coughing heavily and saw the old man doing the same. 'FUCK!' she screamed to no one in particular.
Ten minutes later, Thomas, George and Gillian were each secured in the back seat of their own separate Land Rover. Short herself was sat on the steps of the mansion whilst the rest of the team busied themselves in securing the premises and assisting Hendrickson in bringing the remains of the gate from below. He seemed positively giddy at the prospect of examining the weird alien technology; Short just wanted out of the cellar.
Her iPhone chimed in her pocket. 'Short here,' she said.
'Do we have an update?' asked the voice on the other end.
'Yes sir,' she said, 'It appears to have been a gateway of some kind.'
'A gateway! Between worlds?'
'It appears so, sir.'
'And the damage?'
'One side is heavily damaged, but the other is only superficial. Erickson believes some parts may be salvageable.'
'Really?'
'Yes sir. He's like a kid in a candy store. Says he's never seen technology like it. He's going to remain on site and await the cleanup team, then he'll bring all the remains back to HQ.'
'Very well. And the subjects? Were any of them travellers?'
'I don't believe so sir. They all came through the gate. The woman is in a state of confusion. Keeps asking questions, but the boy and the old man know more than they are letting on?'
'Was it just the three?'
'Yes sir, although I have reason to believe at least one other is still on the other side.'
'Why would they leave someone and then destroy their only way of getting back?'
'Unsure,' she said, 'But there's a great deal here that doesn't make a lot of sense. Wouldn't mind a shot at questioning the boy and the old man. Have you got anything from Strutter yet.'
'Not yet. Johnson's been interrogating him, but he doesn't have the same...vigour as yourself.'
Short smiled. Compliments were few and far between in this job but she took them whenever they were given, no matter how underhanded that may be. 'Very well sir. Shall I return to HQ?'
'That's affirmative. But Short, do you know what this means if we actually have a gateway between Earth and Shael? This could be the final piece of the puzzle!'
'Yes sir,' she said and smiled. She had only worked for the company for a few years and had quickly climbed the ranks. What she'd seen in that short time had really piqued her interest. If they now did indeed have a means to travel between the worlds, then she would definitely be the first in the queue.
She left Erickson and two squad members in the main hallway of the mansion and climbed in the waiting cruiser. Thomas was sat handcuffed in the backseat staring at the floor. Short found it odd that neither the old man or the boy had protested against their incarceration. Considering she hadn't declared herself as either police or military, she found it very odd indeed. The woman, on the other hand hadn't stopped blabbing, but nothing she'd said held any interest.
It was the silence from the other two that interested Short. A silence she was a deft hand at breaking. She watched the first two cruisers pull away and then they slotted in at the rear of the convoy. They passed through the mansions gates and past the row of cottages. There were a few onlookers, probably relatives or neighbours of their current captives. Short smiled as they drove past, it was nothing their cleanup crew couldn't handle. Once they were clear of the high-hedged Meadowbank Lane, the cruisers picked up speed; putting as much distance as they could between them and the strange empty mansion with its decades of secrets.
4
Andrew knew it wasn't the same beach as the one the bear and the girl had taken Karen. But he didn't care. He just needed to get out of that terrible medical lab. He also knew that for now, going back wasn't an option. Going back meant he would have to grieve and that wasn't something he was ready to do just yet.
He had no idea how he was going to track Karen down, but again he didn't care. Just the simple act of having something to do would stop him thinking of his wife lying crumpled on that stale gurney; discarded like some forgotten toy.
For the time being, this beach would do. It was hot, with a cooling breeze coming from the ocean. The rhythmic breaking of the waves was soothing. He sat on the rough shingle just above the high water mark watching the sun slowly set on the horizon. Eventually, he would begin his search and he had a couple of ideas for where to start.
For now though, the tranquility and solitude was what he needed. Time to think, time to remember and time to forget. At some point he would have to move further from the shoreline. He'd already seen something big moving below the water's surface and until he got fully used to this strange new world, he wasn't about to take any chances.
Ending day one as fish-bait wouldn't be a great start.
The End.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Jonathan Kent is an author of Dark Fantasy and Horror fiction. His tales are predominantly told from a modern perspective where everyday folk are thrown into strange and fantastical situations. The stories can be dark, involving real life characters and are definitely not for the faint hearted!
He lives with his wife, two daughters and a houseful of pets on the windswept Isle of Portland, in Dorset. He has a Business Degree from Manchester Metropolitan University and until recently had a successful career as a management consultant.
In September 2016 he gave it all up yo pursue his passion for storytelling and began a fledgling career as a novelist. His first Dark Fantasy novel 'Homecoming' was published in November 2016.
Please come visit the official Jonathan Kent website:
https://jonathankentauthor.wordpress.com
You can also follow Jonathan on Facebook:
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Homecoming: A dark fantasy thriller
Homecoming: A dark fantasy thriller
Homecoming is the suspenseful and chilling debut novel from author Jonathan Kent. It sees family man David Strutter lured back to his old childhood home on a seemingly mundane errand. Once there, the memories of his traumatic upbringing and abusive father come flooding back.
But along with these dark memories come memories of his talent. For David was a special boy. A boy blessed with an ability to 'travel' to an alternate reality and hide away from his father when he was at his worst. With the help of his equally talented mother, he learnt to harness these abilities and to some extent control the world he travelled to.
The world of Shael.
Now, some thirty years later with his 'body' seriously injured in the real world, he unexpectedly finds himself trapped in Shael. Like a fish out of water he must follow a series of cryptic clues to traverse the hostile alien landscapes, reach his mother and finally come face to face with the evil entity that has possessed his father for years.
Homecoming is the stunning first volume of the 'Shael Chronicles'
Grab your copy NOW!
BUY HERE!
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Meadowbank: A dark fantasy thriller (The Shael Chronicles Book 2) Page 24