by Sean McMahon
Kevin had awoken early, and set off in his pickup truck Saturday morning. Not wanting to repeat their previous mistake, they watched from his porch as he left, then returned to Fir Lodge to await his inevitable return.
‘Gah,’ groaned Hal. ‘This place should come with a remote, so we can fast forward and rewind to where we need to be.’
‘Now that,’ said Kara, ‘would be amazing. Hey, I’ve been thinking. Wasn’t it weird how we just jumped to when The Big Bad killed us? It wasn’t a natural restart, we were just kind of…taken there?’
As Kara continued, Hal chastised himself for failing to follow up on that. He wondered how he could have missed something so huge.
‘What if–’ but she was cut off mid-flow by Hal, who had turned all of his attention to the arrival of Kevin.
‘Hold that thought Kar’, time to bounce.’
‘Who says “bounce” anymore?’ said Kara, in a playfully mocking tone.
‘I don’t know, Zumba instructors, presumably?
‘I meant in the context of–’
‘Tennis-ball manufacturers?’
‘I hate you.’
They watched Kevin like a couple of hawks, fearing that letting him out of their sight for even a second would result in him teleporting out of their reach, like some kind of elusive wizard.
With Kevin’s introduction to their friends out of the way, they followed him deep into the woods. After what felt like forever, they eventually ended up at a location at the edge of a huge lake. They were surprised to see that Kevin’s truck was parked up, a familiar big, black canvas-sack resting in the back, unzipped for the first time since they’d seen the suspicious container many restarts ago.
Hal rubbed his face, like an archaeologist from the movies who was about to swap out a bag of sand for a golden idol, and jumped onto the back of the vehicle. Peering inside, he fell backwards, and rested his arms on his knees, eyes closed and shaking his head.
‘What…what is it? What’s in there?’ asked Kara.
‘Come take a look,’ said Hal. ‘Spoilers, it’s nothing like what we were expecting.’
She climbed up next to him into the back of the vehicle, cautiously moving closer, as the shade of the trees and the mist obscured her view, and peered deeper into the dark container. Suddenly, she felt something grab her shoulders, the faint sizzle of blue sparks firing off and repelling her assailant. Hal was laughing.
‘You’re such a dick,’ said Kara, rubbing her shoulder, having just discovered that the bag contained nothing more than fishing equipment. ‘Okay, so I think we can say for certain we have to save Kevin. He’s just a regular guy.’
‘Yup,’ said Hal, ‘This place is clearly making us paranoid.’
With the mystery of the black sack resolved, they had at least acquired some valuable information. Piecing together what they had seen, they had a pretty good idea as to what led to Kevin arriving at Fir Lodge that Saturday afternoon. Presumably, Jerry had run off for reasons unknown, and Kevin, not wanting to pack up all of his gear, had proceeded on foot to try and locate him. Ultimately, this had led him much further than expected, eventually bringing him all the way to Fir Lodge. They also now knew precisely where Kevin had been all this time after departing Fir Lodge, which meant that their knowledge of the chronological order of events for Saturday was almost complete.
But there was a still a crucial question left unanswered; where the hell was their killer hiding?
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
Who Ya Gonna Call?
39th Restart – Saturday Morning, 9:44am
They sat there, staring out across the lake, basking in the early-morning sun as Kevin fished, and Jerry slept on a blanket. It was a fantastic view, with not a serial killer stalking the woods in sight. They’d spent a bunch of restarts scouting the surrounding area, looking for any signs that The Big Bad was hunting Kevin, but after searching from every conceivable angle, for both the mornings and early afternoons, they’d not seen any evidence at all that the killer even existed. It was like he was a phantom, one that only existed during the four hours leading up to their deaths.
‘I’ve been thinking,’ said Hal.
‘Uh oh, should I stand back and wait for it to blow over?’
‘Funny. Seriously, there’s too much ground to cover, so much margin for error…we’re in over our heads,’ said Hal. ‘I mean, how can we possibly come up with a plan that has so many moving pieces? We’re drowning in variables.’
Kara had to agree with him. They’d spent countless restarts just trying to locate their soon-to-be murderer, and had garnered virtually no worthwhile information from their attempts. All they’d really managed to do was confirm the things they already knew.
‘What do you suggest?’ asked Kara, staring out across the shimmering lake, totally at odds with the static mist that should have been rolling, but was instead just occupying the dead space between the lake and sky.
‘We need help. I think it’s time to bring in the big guns,’ said Hal.
Kara turned to face him with a look of reluctance on her face.
‘No… we can’t do that, Hal. It’s too dangerous. We got lucky last time, reeeeally lucky. What if we can’t undo it?!’
‘I’m not saying we rush into anything, we have to make sure it’s perfect, I know that. I’m saying we work it all out, and when we can guarantee, one-hundred-percent, that it won’t be permanent–’
‘I don’t like it,’ said Kara. ‘We have no idea what lasting effects this will have on Robert as it is. I know the thought of spending an eternity here is terrifying, but to bring our friends into it...it’s not right.’
‘This has nothing to do with fear Kar’! I mean, you have to admit, having some extra minds on this to work through the problem with us would be a game-changer?’
As much as she hated to admit it, Kara couldn’t deny that he had a point. There was only so far that they could get by relying on sheer dumb luck.
‘We need help Kar’. The two of us alone aren’t equipped to navigate our way through this…this…whatever this is.’
‘We can’t just rely on luck anymore,’ said Kara, echoing her thoughts.
‘Exactly,’ said Hal. ‘It’s time to adapt.’
Kara turned her eyes back to the river. The static fog was getting thicker with every restart. Their time here was clearly running out. And then there was Kevin. There was also the small matter of there being a serial killer on the loose, who wouldn’t just stop with the three of them, would he? Outside of their time bubble, he was probably already planning, or doing, horrible things to other innocents. People who had simply been unfortunate enough to have crossed his path. She turned her gaze back to her fellow Restarter.
‘Okay. Hypothetically, who did you have in mind for this…time-heist of yours?’
Hal’s eyes lit up. He could tell by the look in her eyes that now was not a good time to point out how awesome he thought “time heist” sounded, but he knew she knew how much he loved it.
‘I’ve been giving it some thought, and I think my brother will be useful. And Rachel.’
Kara needed more if she was ever going to agree to this.
‘Why them, specifically?’
‘Well, for one thing, we may not have much time once we bring them here,’ said Hal. ‘And I know I can talk Alex round, he’ll trust us at face-value without needing to binge-watch five seasons to get up to speed. Plus, I’m pretty confident he’ll be able to get his head around the time-travel element.
‘And Rachel?’ pressed Kara.
‘She’s smart. She’ll think of all the things we haven’t yet. We can’t risk Robert again, I don’t want to end up giving him time-cancer or something. And the rest have kids. It’s as simple as that.
‘What about Peter and Fearne?’ asked Kara. ‘They don’t have kids?’
‘Tiger and Marilyn? Well, given that Peter spends the final stint of each restart doing his God of Thunder impersonation, I’m not entirely convin
ced we should be involving him at all. At least not until we know more about what’s causing him to glitch out like that. With Fearne, I honestly just don’t know how she’ll react.’
‘Hmm, agreed,’ said Kara. Peter and Fearne were an unknown quantity right now. ‘So, we’ve nailed down the who, we just need the when and the how,’ added Kara, causing a mischievous smile to appear on Hal’s face.
‘Oh, I think I know exactly when,’ said Hal, ‘the how is going to be the tricky part.’
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
Ashes to Ashes
52nd Restart – Saturday Afternoon, 2:06pm
It was a beautiful Saturday mid-afternoon. The birds chirped in the gently swaying trees that were being kissed by the summer breeze, as if auditioning for an Attenborough production. The tranquillity was almost tangible; everything was as it always was, and as it always should be. Soft laugher drifted out across the woodland backdrop from the rear of Fir Lodge, accentuated by the muffled hum of a hot tub. Everything perfectly encapsulated Norfolk at its finest; a calm, relaxing, picturesque location to stay in, entirely removed from the hustle and bustle of city-life. A place where those who were weary of the day-to-day grind could take a break, put their feet up, and revel in meditative contemplation as the world passed them by.
Which made the following explosion of Fir Lodge all the more alarming, as the billowing flames engulfed the building, and soared into the afternoon sky, the roaring fire spitting and hissing with such ferocity that the orange glow could be seen from miles away, even in broad daylight. The dense smoke swirled furiously, so thick that it was impossible to tell the difference between a temporal fog-anomaly and a…well, Hal couldn’t even settle on a corroborative noun that would do it justice.
‘Fucking Hell, Hal,’ said Kara, staring directly into the fiery abyss that her friend had just opened.
‘Yeah, that...escalated quickly,’ said Hal. ‘Might’ve overdone it a bit. Sorry,’ he added sheepishly.
‘How did you even generate that much of an explosion?!’ she said, finding herself shouting to be heard, as one of the load-bearing support beams of the building collapsed in on itself with an ear-splitting crunch.
It had taken Hal no less than twenty-five restarts, five of which were spent locating a suitable accelerant, but he’d finally cracked it.
‘I won’t bore you with the details on my apparent affinity with the dark arts,’ said Hal. ‘Besides, we have guests.’
Rachel and Alex ran from the building, covering their mouths through fear of smoke-inhalation, with looks of sheer terror on their faces. Rachel’s face-paint remained oddly un-smudged and immaculate, considering she’d just burst forth from a burning cabin. Alex was screaming to Kara and Hal, something along the lines of “Get the duck back fire boom”, and looking decidedly less pristine due to the inflatable backpack he was wearing, now a molten-mess of congealed plastic.
Kara took a deep breath.
“Here we go,” she thought.
The newly-inducted Restarters were understandably losing their shit, desperately wanting to run back into the inferno to ensure their friends were okay, but Hal and Kara grabbed them, causing an almighty feedback of channelled energy that sent all four of them hurtling onto their backs.
Hal dragged himself up from the ground, shaking away the power-surge caused by the displaced electricity that was coursing through his veins, and made his way back to the group. Kara was already up, ready to act as a blocker, in case Rachel and Alex made another mad dash towards the lodge. She was worrying needlessly; they were still reeling from the after-effects brought on by the physical connection the four of them had just made, rolling around on their backs, trying to catch their breath.
‘Alex. Rachel,’ said Hal, speaking quickly and concisely. ‘Look at us. Not at the fire, at us.’
But they were already staring into the smouldering abyss, without context to guide them through the insanity surrounding them. Hal grabbed Alex by the shoulders, fighting against the electrical current that was now working overtime in an attempt to repel them apart.
‘Alex! It’s happening,’ said Hal.
Alex stopped resisting, taking in the words his brother had uttered. Seeing in Alex’s eyes that he understood, Hal released his electrified grip. Alex covered his own face with his hands, and then ran them through his thick black hair in a crazily-sudden motion, as if he was shaking off a cold chill, leaving it in a dishevelled state, and finally appeared to be completely focused on Hal.
Alex closed his eyes for a second; seemingly trying to wrestle with the immediacy of the situation, and the trust he had for his brother. His eyes fluttered open, the look on his face indicating he’d made his decision.
‘Tell me everything,’ said Alex.
Kara, meanwhile, was standing above Rachel, who had graduated from lying on the ground to kneeling, breathing heavily and apparently on the verge of having a panic attack, as she stared at the utterly obliterated lodge. Kara could faintly see their remaining friends through the thick smoke, running away through the seemingly endless rear garden, as the sauna area exploded.
“Jeeze” thought Kara, as she attempted to rally the troops. ‘Rachel, Alex, we have to go. Now!’
Hal leaned down, fixing his gaze directly into Rachel’s eyes, moving as close to her as he could without triggering electrical feedback, and asked her a simple question.
‘Do you trust me?’
Rachel’s heavy-breathing slowed, as something clicked in her mind.
‘Ye-yes. Of course,’ she stuttered.
Hal stood up, not averting his gaze from hers, and smiled in an attempt to reassure her.
‘Then come with us. If you want to, you know…live,’ said Hal, wincing slightly at his choice of words.
And with that, Ziggy, Velma, and the ghost-busters headed away from the heatless flames, onwards towards the promise of safety, and much-needed answers.
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
Charging Ahead
52nd Restart – Saturday Afternoon, 2:52pm
Alex and Rachel followed their friends, stealing awkward glances between each other, as Hal and Kara bickered incessantly. Alex caught the odd word on the wind, words such as “death”, “murder”, and something about “restarting”. Whatever they were discussing, it sounded serious.
Kara and Hal had ultimately brought them to an expansive area, which led to the exit of the complex of lodges and woodland. Kara put up her hands, and everyone stopped walking.
Alex pulled off his now-ruined back-pack, which was now nothing more than a clump of plastic with straps, throwing it on the ground, and deciding it was time for answers.
‘What the hell just happened?!’
Hal cleared his throat. ‘Look, we’re going to tell you everything, but you have to understand, it’s not quite as sim–’
‘Bro’. I’ve known you literally all my life. I can tell you’re rattled. We all are. But you said “it’s happening”, and we always agreed that we’d only utter those words if it was the end of the world. So, talk.’
Hal took a moment to contemplate the current group dynamic; a couple of ghost-busters, a scoob, and one of the most iconic and legendary song-writers of a generation, about to tackle the greatest challenge they’d ever faced. Together, they were basically a real-life league of justice. His brother was right; it was time to drop some knowledge. But he’d honestly not thought about the logistics of how he was going to handle this. His entire plan hinged on his brother Alex understanding the severity of the situation when he uttered the key words they’d agreed on in the event of a zombie apocalypse. Past that point…well that’s all he had.
‘How about you start,’ said Alex, sensing his brother’s apprehension, ‘by telling us why we’re not back there helping our friends?’ said Alex, gesturing behind them, and hoping Hal would give them the green light to go back.
‘I need to make sure Jon is okay!’ said Rachel. ‘We need to get back there right now,’ she added, unable
to process why she allowed herself to be dragged away from Fir Lodge in the first place.
‘Ok, dammit guys, I wasn’t…you’ve really stepped up to the plate here,’ said Hal. ‘Better than I could have hoped. We don’t have long, half an hour tops. After that, the timeline might divert to the point where what has to happen doesn’t happen. We could end up leaving, and restarting after our death–’
‘HAL,’ shouted Kara, interjecting his rambling. ‘Baby. Fricking. Steps.’
She was right. Almost always. He shook his head to clear his mind and, setting oxymorons aside, he began with the end. He began with the day they died.
*
Alex reached for his cigarettes, then cursed, as he realised that said cigarettes were currently residing under lord-knows how many tons of smouldering timber. He must have dropped them amidst the unfolding chaos.
‘Here, have one of mine,’ offered Hal, chucking him the last smoke in his packet. Alex wasn’t a fan of hand-rolled cigarettes, but desperate disparities in space-time required desperate measures. Alex found his lighter, still nestled in his pocket, and sparked up.
Taking a deep drag, he looked incredulously at Hal, back to his smoke, then back to Hal again. ‘You rolling with air now?’
‘Welcome to time-travel purgatory mate,’ said Hal, shrugging his shoulders apologetically. ‘Turns out that whilst you really can take it all with you when you die, it’s mostly just tangible memory,’ he added, beginning to suspect that his cigarettes didn’t actually contain any nicotine at all.
Alex closed his eyes, considering the statement for a moment.
‘So, why only half an hour until you…’