Undergrowth snapped and crunched beneath their feet as they broke into a trot. The unavoidable noise became a concern for Jason as they headed deeper into the trees. Background sounds were always good cover, but now there was none. There were no cars, no lorries or planes and the world was now surprisingly quiet.
He glanced back to see if they were being followed. Tumbling leaves and settling branches were all that moved in their wake. The woods seemed empty. Then suddenly more shots, interlaced with machine gunfire, could be heard ripping through the trees.
Neither needed prompting as they both broke into a run. Deeper and deeper into the trees they plunged until finally, in the murky glow of the failing light, Jason caught sight of the base of the hill.
“Stop,” he instructed breathlessly. He pointed upward. “The road heading south is that way.”
Sarah looked around nervously. “Do you think they’re after us?”
She followed as Jason walked the base of the incline looking for a safe route up.
“I can’t hear anything. I think it would be hard for anyone in this environment to sneak up.”
The gathering gloom was becoming a concern. They needed to be clear of the woods before it was too dark to see.
A group of densely packed trees, a few feet ahead, limited his view of the hill, but once they were clear the area thinned and he saw the gradient reduce at this end of the enclosure.
Quickly he identified a route to the top, then beckoned Sarah to his side. Pointing upward he guided her eyes along a path through the undergrowth.
Although the climb was dirty and slow, Jason was pleased that his second encounter with the slope proved to be more dignified than his first.
As they arrived back on level ground he’d hoped that the darkness would be less intense beyond the trees. He was disappointed to find it wasn’t so.
“I know we’ll be more exposed on the main road,” he said, as they hurried across a field in the direction of the motorway, “but it’s the most direct route, so it’s a risk we’ll have to take. Now it’s nearly dark, we should be alright.”
“They’ll know by now we’re not dead,” Sarah pointed out, “so maybe we should travel to Ponteland through the villages, in case they look for us.”
“No. It’ll take too long. Besides, the road is lined with bushes. When I needed to hide this morning I found it easy enough. We’re both wearing dark colours, so unless we accidentally walk into a platoon or something, we’ll not be easily spotted. Any vehicles approaching should be heard from miles away now the road is so quiet.”
As they arrived at the edge of the motorway they stopped.
“Okay,” Sarah said. “I’m not entirely convinced, but we’ll go with your plan. It is thirty miles we have to walk. That’s bad enough. To add to it would be horrid.”
They joined the road and turned south.
Jason’s vision that the journey would be an opportunity to talk and possibly even eat was completely off the mark. Instead, they walked in silence, stopping only to scrutinise the slightest sounds like hunted animals. Their nerves raw, they were poised to hide at a second’s notice as they constantly scanned their surroundings for soldiers.
As they drew near to the Morpeth turn-off, with almost half of their journey completed, suddenly the silence, which had stayed with them since leaving Alnwick, was broken by the sound of an engine.
“How far away do you think it is?” Sarah asked. She sounded really scared.
“It’s hard to tell. It depends how big the vehicle is.”
She peered into the darkness. “Can you see any lights?”
“No.”
The vehicle was obviously approaching fast as the sound had already drawn closer.
“I think it’s a lorry,” Jason said. He’d spotted a pair of headlights leaving a dip in the distance. “Come on, let’s hide.”
The pair took cover at the side of the road and waited for the vehicle to pass by. A short while later when two bright beams cleared the brow of a hill and came into view, Jason realised it was the lorry he’d seen earlier that day.
With the engine pushed to its limit, it sped north at a terrifying pace. The driver’s compartment was illuminated and for a split second he looked in on its occupants.
All three men were still dressed in the protective paper suits given to them by Andrews. All was not well, though, as one of the men was obviously injured. He leaned against the door for support; a large crimson stain soaked through the left shoulder of the white suit could be clearly seen through the windscreen.
As the lorry passed by, Jason stood. As he watched it continue on its journey, he saw it was towing a trailer.
A tarpaulin, carelessly slung and secured over the top, allowed a brief view of a deadly cargo before it disappeared into the darkness. Guns and rocket launchers protruding from the sides and exposed areas made him very pleased he’d chosen to take Sarah with him.
“I think Briggs is going to be too busy trying to deal with heavily armed, disgruntled residents to worry about us soon,” he said, as he helped Sarah to stand.
Rejoining the road they carried on with the final leg of their journey. They arrived on the outskirts of Ponteland without further incident several hours later.
Starving, cold and exhausted, it was only Jason’s urging that kept Sarah going.
“We mustn’t stop. One way or another, this will be over soon,” he told her.
“But I’m so tired,” she sobbed.
Jason stopped. He suddenly felt cruel and heartless. Shamed, he reached forward and took Sarah into his arms. As she cried into his chest he held her close. It took several minutes before her howling sobs subsided into gentle sniffs.
“I’m so sorry, but we must continue,” he said, as she began to calm.
She looked up, her face lined with grief.
“The teleporter is our only hope of returning everything back to normal. Without it we’re both trapped. If it’s discovered or damaged, then any chance of correcting the split could be gone forever.”
“I’m sorry,” she said hoarsely. “It’s all been too much.”
“I know,” Jason replied. Gently he clasped her cheeks, then kissed her on the forehead. “You’ve been very brave so far, but I desperately need you to continue being strong because it’s you who’s going to have to go through the teleporter.”
Her eyes widened and she pulled away. “No! I couldn’t!” She shook her head vigorously. “I’d be too frightened.”
“You must! It doesn’t hurt. The machine was designed to run off mains power,” he explained. “The battery was only supposed to keep it ticking over if there was a power cut. It takes far more energy to send a person out than it does to return them. You’re at least 60 pounds lighter than me, which means you could have a few more vital seconds in 1930 than I would.”
A barely detectable shake of the head indicated her continuing fear of the suggestion.
Refusing to take no for an answer, Jason continued, “I went into a cinema. I could place you down near there. All you have to do is stop me when I come out. Please, Sarah,” he begged. “We only have one shot at this, then the battery’s dead.”
She dropped her eyes and looked at the road.
“There’s a brief tingling sensation and then you arrive. I promise you it doesn’t hurt.”
She paused a moment, then, “All right,” she said quietly, refusing to look him in the face. “I’ll do it.”
He could see she wasn’t delighted, but at least she understood the importance of it. “Good! Come on, let’s hurry.” He took her by the hand. “We’re only a few streets away.”
Chapter Eighteen
In the library, the two officers were looking at the books Jason had been examining earlier that day.
“You don’t believe what he said, do you?” Andrews asked Briggs. “He’s obviously nuts. In some weird and twisted way he probably thought it would impress her and he’d get into her knickers or something,” he sn
eered.
Briggs wasn’t convinced, though. “You said it sounded like she believed him.”
“Well she did… but she could be nuts too,” Andrews speculated. He shrugged his shoulders. “Brain damaged through radiation poisoning, or something.”
“Well, that’s another thing,” Briggs said thoughtfully. “He looked too healthy. He didn’t look like he’d been breathing and eating shit for six weeks.”
“He could’ve been down a shelter.”
Briggs flicked through one of the history books on the desk in front of him. “Yes, you’re right, but can we afford to risk it?”
“What’s the big deal? Even if it was true, he fixes whatever it is he’s done, you get your money back and we all go back to living our nice cosy little lives.”
Briggs looked at his sergeant pointedly. “Let’s just imagine that your grandfather is now involved in a war that didn’t originally exist. He’s then killed before he gets the chance to knock up your grandmother. What do you think happens to you?”
Andrews thought for a second, then his eyes widened.
“It might be best to leave things as they are,” Briggs suggested gravely.
“I guess you’re right.”
Briggs was feeling as close to fear as he was capable of. Even when he realised the city had been bombed, even then it hadn’t crossed his mind his life could be in danger. But now he felt out of control and for the first time ever, he realised there was a possibility he could die. This was a situation that couldn’t be resolved with a bullet, and even with the man eliminated there was still the machine.
“I’ve already set the wheels in motion to put an end to him,” Briggs said, “but we’ll have to find that machine, if it really does exist. I don’t want to risk someone finding it and causing further disruptions in time. Where did he say it was?”
“Ponteland.”
Briggs led the way out of the library. “Right! To Ponteland it is then.”
Chapter Nineteen
The pitch dark had felt natural out on the open road, but now, as they walked through the darkened streets of Ponteland, there seemed to be ghosts everywhere.
The shadows of lives lost now hung heavy on Jason’s conscience and he desperately wanted to make amends. Despite this, the urge to run and hide was almost overwhelming, but there was nowhere to go when the nightmare was all around.
He had been two days in this timeline and as he entered the village once again, he suddenly realised how much he desperately missed his wife. His body ached with the need to feel her in his arms, but if there weren’t enough power, or if Sarah failed, then he knew he might never see Jessica again.
“We’re nearly there,” he said, guiding Sarah into a long road lined with terraced houses, his voice alarmingly loud in the death-filled silence.
They turned into the street and had walked no more than a few yards, when a noise off to their left proved they weren’t alone.
Whipping their heads in the direction of the sound, they froze with fright and scanned the darkness for movement. Then, there it was again.
Jason touched Sarah’s back, pushing her towards cover, when he saw something out of the corner of his eye. As they dived towards a car, a cat suddenly ran out of the shadows and crossed the road before disappearing into the houses opposite.
The pair stopped and turned to face each other, laughing out loud. Their relief was cut short, though, when a loud boom sounded nearby.
Quickly they hid.
“What was it?” Sarah whispered.
“It sounded like a shot, but there was something more.”
“Look!” She pointed.
He followed the line of her finger to the front of the vehicle where a webbing of shattered glass encircled a hole in the windscreen.
“We need to get to the house behind us,” Jason whispered, as another shot impacted the car, causing it to shudder. “I’ll cover you.” He removed the gun from his pocket, then, “Now,” he said, as he stood and shot in the direction of the gunman. Sarah began to run, with Jason closely following.
They barely noticed the gunfire from the rear. Adrenaline coursed through their veins as they cleared the wall to the garden and pounded up the path to the house. The front door offered no resistance as Sarah threw her weight against it and burst through into the hall. Jason shut the door, then secured it with the bolt, as she continued through to the back.
“It’s locked,” she said breathlessly, as he entered the kitchen, her hand still resting on the door.
“We’ll use this.” Jason moved to a small pine table and took a firm hold of the top.
They charged at the door. The first impact produced a dent. They tried again and this time the window broke. On the third attempt they smashed through. The door, separated from the lock, swung open, bounced off its hinges, then slammed against the frame.
By now Jason could hear their pursuers trying to break down the front. He pulled the table clear of the shattered wood. “Run,” he hissed, pushing against Sarah’s back.
She cleared the door and disappeared into the darkness just as the gunmen burst into the house.
Using the ruined wood for protection, Jason waited for them to come. He killed the first man into the kitchen, then the second – after that no more followed.
The urge to gag was strong. He’d never killed anything before. Civility battled survival. He wanted to reason with these people, but knew it was beyond that. He must stay and fight to slow them down; to think like them, or they were as good as dead.
He knew he’d only bought time. Suppressing thoughts of failure, he grabbed the chance to run. Clearing the door he moved away from the house and disappeared into the garden.
Moments later machine-gun fire peppered the kitchen with bullets.
The shrubbery was badly overgrown and it quickly became apparent it was impossible to move without being heard. Once hidden he stopped and looked back towards the house.
He was surprised no one had followed. A shadowy shape briefly passed the window, but there was no pursuit.
He sat back on his heels, took the chance to calm his adrenaline shakes, and flicked open the barrel of the gun to check the contents. Two bullets were all that remained; every shot now had to count. He closed the chamber.
He was considering his next move when a noise from behind made him jump. Turning, he lashed out wildly, but was thankful he missed.
“It’s me,” Sarah hissed. She grabbed his arm to stop more attacks. “I think they’ve gone,” she whispered. “I was hiding in the house next door. When I heard the shots I thought you were dead, but you’ve got the grace and elegance of an elephant, and I realised you’d made it into the back garden.”
“I’m a scientist, not a soldier,” Jason protested indignantly.
She ignored his comments. “I heard voices from the front street. When I went through the passage, there was a group of men on the road. You’ll never guess what?”
“Briggs is with them.”
“How did you know?” she asked, surprised.
“I recognised one of the soldiers I shot as he came into the kitchen.”
“Why do you think he’s here?”
“I think he believes it’s possible the teleporter exists and he wants it destroyed. In this timeline he’s a king. In the correct timeline, he’s just another nobody, or worse. I don’t think he’ll give it up too easily.” Jason paused. “There is something else...”
Sarah turned to look at him full-on. Immediately she recognised the guilty look she’d seen the previous day. “What? What is it?”
“There is something Briggs might’ve thought of,” he said softly. “There’s a chance he might not exist in the other timeline. That would also go for you.” The final sentence was said slowly and with great pain. “You might, in a sense, be about to wipe yourself out of existence.” He looked away. “I would understand if you wanted to back out.”
Sarah held his chin and turned his face until they locked e
yes. “I’d already thought of that,” she said. Despite her best efforts, her voice sounded strained. She was scared, she couldn’t deny that, but the thought she could end this... “I’d rather be dead than live the rest of my life in this hellhole. Even if I don’t exist in the other timeline, as long as someone I love does.” Her face twisted as her voice cracked. “That’s all that matters.”
“You’re the bravest person I’ve ever met,” he said admiringly. “You’re far braver than me.”
She took a deep ragged breath, calming her raw emotions, then smiled shyly, accepting his praise.
“Ready to move on?”
She nodded.
Jason checked they were still alone. All seemed quiet. He knew the soldiers wouldn’t have gone, but he couldn’t see anyone in the kitchen.
Around the back of the houses, gardens led onto gardens so there were plenty of places to hide. Still, he hadn’t seen anyone come through the buildings, so he dared to hope they could lose them.
“Come on.” He led the way to the fence.
As they crossed the neighbouring lawn, “Do you think they’re still looking for us?” Sarah asked.
“They could be concentrating on the machine. As long as we get to it first. It would be impossible to rebuild, in this primitive environment, if destroyed.”
Climbing over walls and fences, to avoid the main street, was slow and tiring. As they passed through each garden in turn, Jason added one more to a mental count he was keeping, but the further up the street they travelled, the more he began to doubt their actual location.
“Sarah, wait!” he whispered, as they entered the ninth garden in the row. “I need to go through to the front for a moment. I think I know where I am, but I can’t say for sure. Wait here, I’ll get my bearings.”
He trotted up to the house, but as he neared the back door he could see it had already been forced. The frame was splintered and the door cracked in two. He pushed it open and entered the kitchen.
Leaves, gathered in corners, had piled up against the units. The lino was stained where muddy water had pooled and someone with large boots, with a heavy tread, had walked across the floor.
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