Austerley & Kirgordon Adventures Box Set

by G R Jordan

  No, she thought, I can’t lose you, not now, not when we’ve just survived. No. I won’t let it. Jane embraced Wilson and cried over him.

  “What to do, what do I do?” she said out loud, composing herself. “Airways, breathing, circulation. Need to check his airway.” Jane pulled Wilson’s mouth apart and pushed two fingers down. Wilson coughed violently before telling her, through the choking, to leave him alone.

  “I’m good. Jane… I’m good. Cage… the cage.”

  “Don’t worry about that. I’ll take care of you, I’ll sort you out, you’re going nowhere.” Jane held him close, arms wrapped around him. “Don’t talk. Just relax.”

  “Jane,” said Wilson in a harsh croak. “Destroy… the cage… or the… others… will be dead.”

  Care Home Chaos

  The elephant-crocodile looks the most dangerous,” Kirkgordon told Nefol. The girl nodded, placed a hand into his quiver and removed an arrow.

  “That’s the one for the little guys with the hammers, yes?” Nefol nodded. “Good, positions then.”

  It had not been an easy decision to disperse his group but Kirkgordon was worried that Farthington and Tania were nowhere to be seen. Nefol was to attack from his far right, with Austerley beside Kirkgordon and the priest on the far left. Kirkgordon wasn’t sure what help Father Jonah would be but he had taken a large mace with him which wouldn’t be of use to someone without training, so Kirkgordon guessed he was probably pretty handy.

  Kirkgordon drew back his bow and let loose an arrow at the elephant part. The arrow speared the flank of the creature. Immediately, tiny men with miniature hammers appeared from it, working with frenzy and driving the beast to its knees. Father Jonah emerged from his cover and cried aloud at the wasp-monkey, which turned from its lazy path to fly directly towards the priest. Nefol ran at the slug-scorpion, which sprang into the air, landing behind her. And Austerley… where the hell is the idiot, wondered Kirkgordon.

  A knife appeared at his throat from nowhere. He had been compromised. What was happening? Then he felt the evil sweet breath on his neck.

  “I like a man who knows how to fire an arrow.” Tania was behind him. He felt her lean into him, her chest pressing against his back and a leg snaking around his own. Glancing down, he saw only a stump where the foot should have been but was distracted by a hand reaching between his legs and stroking his thigh.

  “You can still be mine. I can sense you still want me, still want to take me as your own.” The hand moved higher up his thigh. The arms had sleeves on them, black and shiny with ornate symbols that were totally lost on Kirkgordon. Well at least she’s not naked again, reasoned Kirkgordon. He could feel himself stirring below even though he was fighting not to become aroused. Her hand moved even higher. Now that’s just not fair, he thought.

  “Then take the knife away,” he said. “Or don’t you have enough trust in your womanly charms? Afraid I won’t respond? Afraid you don’t have enough to convince me?” Kirkgordon was beginning to sweat as the knife pressed harder into his throat.

  “I know you’re responding, I can feel it,” laughed Tania in his ear. Damn, thought Kirkgordon, that feels too good.

  “Why are you working with Farthington? Why not come with me and we’ll get away from here? A fresh start, Tania. Just you and me.”

  “I don’t think you mean that. I think you’re just playing me. You’ll never leave your other woman.”

  “Why? You think I won’t. I’ve got all I want in you. And I want all of it. You can feel that, can’t you? Feel my hunger.”

  “I want to taste your hunger.” Tania pressed the knife harder, forcing Kirkgordon’s head to turn, and bit his lips in a playful fashion. He responded by engulfing her mouth, deeply tasting her. Oblivious to everything else, the couple tasted each other. Tania dropped the knife, allowing Kirkgordon to turn around and take hold of her hips. Stepping back, he looked at her in her skin-tight black dress; she was revealing an obscene amount of cleavage. He drew a sharp breath. Playing this close to the edge was difficult but Tania was starting to succumb.

  “Come with me, let me take you back to the church, and we’ll plan what we’ll do.” Her eyes were full of passion but the witchy wildness that had been so dominant before had died. There was a new calm about her. Tania started to apologize, saying that she had done it all for him. She had looked into her future and she had seen Kirkgordon in the water and she had wanted him. And the old practices had taught her how to do it. But now she would win him on her own, without compulsion.

  Kirkgordon smiled to reassure her and, for the first time, noticed she was hovering just above the ground. Now that’s a trick that Austerley could have done with, he thought. Then he saw the lumbering figure appear behind Tania. Before he could shout a warning, Austerley swung a small sword at Tania’s neck.

  Austerley had never been a man of weapons and his mastery of them failed to improve with this strike. The blade was swung so inexpertly that he struck Tania’s neck with the flat side, merely bruising her. Watching Tania’s face, Kirkgordon saw the rage develop and the wildness return to her eyes.

  “Liar! Betrayer!” she screamed at Kirkgordon. She twisted her hands into a convoluted form and reached towards Austerley. His smaller foot flew into the air and his body seemed to hang from it. Tania spun the university professor round and round until he became a blur. When she finally let him go, Austerley sailed through the air and crashed into a set of trees. She turned to confront Kirkgordon but he was gone.

  Racing through some undergrowth, all Kirkgordon could think was how that stupid arse had screwed it all up again. And she’ll be wild now, wild. Judging by what she’s just done to Indy, she’s going to be quite a handful. Glancing over at his other compatriots, he saw that Nefol had engaged the slug creature and the priest was striking the wasp concoction with a hefty blow from his mace. But something beyond that caught his eye. Many would have thought it to be another piecemeal creature, but Kirkgordon had seen those three heads before. Each head had one eye closed, damaged beyond repair by an arrow from Kirkgordon’s bow back on that dreadful island. He’s going to be pissed about that, thought Kirkgordon.

  “Time to bring out the side shows,” Kirkgordon called to Father Jonah, before drawing his bow and firing an arrow into the wasp. A one-eyed giant appeared and began swatting at the wasp with his club. The wasp flew off, high into the air, and then dived at great speed and stung the giant on its head. A howl split the air that would have drowned out a football crowd, and the giant went into a berserker rage. The wasp was swiped aside with one blow. The next blow hit the slug and sent wet slime in all directions. It jumped some thirty feet on its cricket legs but the giant chased it down and pounded its wounded body. The slug lashed out with its scorpion tail but it missed the giant, who continued to batter the slimy creature until it no longer moved.

  The giant at the care home had looked for direction from Kirkgordon but this time the magical beast ran straight for Farthington. The giant was nearly as tall as the dragon but Farthington was three times as wide. As the giant attacked Farthington with his club raised, the dragon caught him in the stomach with a solid foot. It was less like a kick and more like a brick wall being erected. The giant collided with the foot and dropped down to the ground.

  Kirkgordon saw Farthington take to the air and he knew what was coming next. He drew a vortex arrow and fired it off as one of the dragon’s heads blew fire over the giant. Another head sent a fireball onto the arrow and it burned to a black crisp. The fire from the first head subsided and Kirkgordon saw his giant’s burnt husk lying on the ground. It was a strange feeling, a loss of what was effectively only a weapon, but Kirkgordon felt as though something of his had died. His professional core fought the rage seeping in.

  “Enough of this… how do you say in this country… dross!” roared Farthington, his other heads adding to the mocking laughter. Kirkgordon drew another arrow but the air in front of him turned black. It was like a power cut at midni
ght with the moon turning its back out of spite. The blackness was thick. Kirkgordon heard a voice in his ear.

  “Toy with me, would you? Play me for a fool? When I have offered everything, you mock me, tease me with your longing for me. I will make you suffer, I will make you curse the day you were born a man.” It was Tania’s voice but there was a hollowness to it, as if her soul had gone, leaving the merest essence of the girl she had been.

  Something hit Kirkgordon right between his legs, knocking him off his feet and making his eyes water. His genitalia screamed in pain and he had to force himself to roll away. The next blow caught him on his backside while he was face down in his roll: a fortunate result, for his genitals had once again been the target.

  Light exploded into the darkness and created an illuminated shell within which all could be seen. Outside of this area, the shroud persisted; nothing could be seen, not even shadow. The priest was standing over Kirkgordon, toe to floating toe with Tania. Kirkgordon watched in horror as small insects, all jet black but with little pincers at their front, began to pour out of Tania’s ears, eyes and mouth. They jumped from Tania onto Father Jonah and within a few seconds they had covered the priest. Nearly vomiting, Kirkgordon reached for an arrow but the priest, still covered in insects, reached out with his hand held aloft.

  Watching in disbelief, Kirkgordon saw the insects begin to change colour from black to grey before turning completely white. Without warning, every single insect leapt from the priest onto Tania, covering her completely, and she toppled to the ground.

  “Do you have any vortex arrows left, Mr Kirkgordon?” asked the priest. Kirkgordon indicated an affirmative. “Then over there, ten feet beside the witch. Fire one now!”

  Kirkgordon drew his bow and fired the arrow into the ground ten feet from Tania. The vortex started to build and the priest bowed his head. Kirkgordon saw others being drawn towards the rupture in space, but as the priest started to move it was like a wall had been placed in front of him. Tania and Nefol were not moving either. But Farthington was. The dragon roared and turned his back to the phenomenon then pushed hard with his legs and flapped his mighty wings to try and escape its pull. Despite these efforts, he was gradually being drawn towards it.

  The insects covering Tania turned black again, crawling like a mass of ants all over her body. Not a part of her skin could be seen. And then, almost as one, they were whipped off her body and disappeared into the vortex, vanishing before Kirkgordon’s eyes. The priest remained motionless, his hair and gown blowing towards the vanishing point. Farthington was still slipping backwards but was gaining more purchase as the vortex began to die.

  As the winds faded, Kirkgordon saw that the priest’s face looked weary and drained. Father Jonah turned his eyes towards Tania and a smile spread across his face. Tania looked almost peaceful, lying in her black outfit but with renewed radiance in her face. This development exhilarated Kirkgordon, but he had to temper his joy and survey the scene to see what Farthington was about to do next.

  “Take Tania and get her out of here,” Father Jonah ordered Kirkgordon. Without hesitation, Kirkgordon swept Tania up in his arms and began to run for cover.

  “No you don’t!” The voice was incredibly loud and full of rage. Kirkgordon turned his head to see one of Farthington’s mouths swinging towards him. Fire raged from the orifice before Kirkgordon could react, and the heat reached him in an instant. So sure was he that the flames would overwhelm him, just as they had overwhelmed his giant, that Kirkgordon didn’t even turn away. But, to his amazement, while the oppressive heat of the flames reached him, the actual flames broke around him as if he were in a protective shell.

  It took a moment for Kirkgordon to comprehend his situation. Through the flames he saw the priest, arms raised out towards Kirkgordon, somehow repelling the flames. But Farthington wasn’t to be beaten and the second head sent out flames, this time aimed towards Nefol. Again, Father Jonah reached out a hand, and the flames split around her. By now the priest was buckling and he dropped to his knees. Farthington, sensing weakness, turned his third head and poured flames onto the priest. The flames broke just before the priest, and the fire started to close in on Kirkgordon and Nefol, the heat beginning to singe their clothes.

  The priest looked towards Nefol and said something. Kirkgordon didn’t hear but he saw Nefol’s face fall. Father Jonah turned to him.

  “Kirkgordon, Nefol was my daughter. She is now yours. Look after my child.”

  Kirkgordon’s heart sank and his face became pained. The priest called out at the top of his voice and pushed his arms out sideways, one towards Kirkgordon and one towards Nefol. The girl screamed and Kirkgordon felt the heat around him begin to fade. He saw the fire being driven away from himself and Nefol, but the flames were encroaching on the priest and he began to burn. With one last surge he drove his arms outwards again. The fire from the two heads attacking Kirkgordon and Nefol turned back towards the heads, setting the heads themselves on fire. Farthington started to fall from the sky. But the remaining flames had engulfed Father Jonah, and when the flames eventually ceased, there was nothing left of the priest.

  Nefol dropped to her knees, tears streaming from her face. The shock of the priest’s death froze Kirkgordon to the spot. Only the sight of Farthington rolling on the ground brought Kirkgordon back to his senses. Tania was out cold. He ran to the foliage and set her down in the bushes. On his left, Kirkgordon saw Austerley stumbling along, dazed, and a little confused. Then all light disappeared. Out of the darkness, a voice spoke.

  “Who’s going to save you now, Austerley? I can see in the dark, without any help from your charcoaled priest. Can you?”

  In The Dark

  Jane Goodritch moved to destroy the cage but was suddenly plunged into complete darkness. She fell and landed with a thud on the ground, hurting her shoulder. A feeling of utter disorientation set in. Jane tried to think where she was on the hill top, aware that there was a cliff edge close at hand.

  “Wilson, I can’t see. I can’t blinking well see. I don’t know where the cage is,” she yelled at the top of her lungs.

  In a soft throaty whisper, Wilson replied, “Jane, calm down, just calm down. I know where I am. I’ll guide you but you need to listen. Be calm love, just be calm.”

  Jane nodded and then realized nobody could see anything. “Of course,” she answered.

  “Good. Now, I want you to count slowly and with an even volume. First I will bring you to me. Slowly and evenly, okay?” Jane didn’t acknowledge but instead began her count.

  “One. Two. Three. Four. One. Two …”

  “Good, but more even with your volume, it’s very important.” The count continued but with less variation in volume. “Better. Now we’re going to move. Take two steps in your current direction.” Jane moved and kept counting. “About turn and then four steps.” The process continued until Jane tripped over Wilson.

  “Good, good, you’re here. Now stand and let me feel your feet. Good. Turn this way a bit. Okay, that’s a direct line, but you still need to count. I’ll tell you if you go off line.”

  Jane stepped forward slowly. Twice, Wilson corrected her movement, but after a short while she knew she was close to the edge of the cliff as the wind rose slightly into her face. Any movement now could take her off the cliff.

  “Wilson, I’m close, very close. I’m nearly over the edge,” she shrieked.

  “Calm. Stay calm and count. Trust me, Jane. Trust me.”

  She continued with Wilson’s instructions until she felt her foot slip. She fell forward and panicked, believing that her descent was unstoppable. Just as she reached out, her fingers clutched something made of metal. Her hands gripped the cage and she swung out. A gust of wind from below told her she was over the cliff and she clung on desperately.

  “I’ve got it,” gasped Jane, “Wilson, I’ve got it!”

  “Then pull down. Pull down with everything.”

  “But I’ll be off the cliff! I’m swing
ing over the edge.”

  “Let your feet down, Jane. Just slowly let your feet down.”

  Swinging back and forth, Jane started to let her feet down and her ankles cracked off the edge of the cliff. Jane winced but at least she now knew where the cliff edge was. After the next swing she planted two feet on the ground and pulled hard. The cage was heavy and it was dragging her towards the edge of the cliff in the darkness. The momentum was building. If it didn’t come free soon, it would drag her over the edge. Just as she was deciding whether she needed to remount the cage or let go and prepare for its brutal return swing, the metal device broke loose of its chain.

  Jane dropped off the cage and threw herself backwards to try to avoid toppling over the cliff. Her toes felt the edge and her feet slid off into nothingness. Using all her will and sense of self-preservation, she managed to turn as she fell. She scraped at the ground with her hands. In the dark she fought for purchase as several nails broke from her efforts. As her body followed her feet over the edge, her left hand grabbed on to a rock and her right hand snatched at a piece of gorse. With the spikes biting into her hand, Jane held on, clinging to the meagre supports.

  “Wilson,” she screamed, “I’m slipping. Wilson, help me!”

  Jane heard the cage falling down the cliff. One thud, then another, followed by an almighty clatter. Her eyes were suddenly blinded by pure, natural light. As her sight returned, she saw a hand reaching towards her. Her own hand on the rock was slipping. Wilson grabbed hold of her arm. Jane gripped tighter on to the gorse, ignored the pain and pulled hard with both arms.

  The gorse slipped loose and tumbled down her left side. Jane was dangling over the cliff by one hand. Desperately she tried to swing her free hand up towards the cliff edge, but she was losing her grip and began to slip. The hand holding her gripped tighter, stopping her slide. Looking below, Jane saw the drop and the waves crashing against the rocks. Her hand slipped further. So this was it. Time to check out. And she blacked out.