Time After Time

The grandfather clock struck thirteen. It was cold and the room was in darkness. Panic gripped Kate.

What time was it? She looked at all the clocks. Where was Tom?

Kate leapt to her feet. She spotted the long red cloak, which she had taken from the Bradshaw house, draped over the back of the sofa. She snatched it up, raced through the door and out of the gate. Seconds later, she was sprinting through the streets looking out for a bus into town. She passed the nearest bus stop and looked along the road, but there was nothing in sight, so she carried on running. As she ran, she considered the possibilities. If Tom did not make it to the Plantations, the chase would not happen and Sophie would never go missing. Would the other Kate, Tom, Pete and Sophie continue to live normal lives? Would she and her friends remain stranded, unable to see their families again?

Kate saw a bus. She was still a distance from the next stop, and her leg was sore again with cramp. But she sprinted, waving her arm for the driver to stop. She glanced to her right; the driver smiled, shook his head, and pointed to the bus stop. The bus accelerated, and rode off into the night.

Kate screamed, staggered the remaining few yards and collapsed onto the bench.

Tom awoke, choking on petrol fumes. A can lay nearby, toppled on its side. Pete lay next to him. Lancaster had tied them up, and left them on a freezing floor in small square stone walled room. Through the open doorway, Tom saw grass. It was night. It was cold.

Kate caught the next bus into town, and jumped straight onto another. Ten minutes later, she was walking across the road towards the Plantation gates. There was no sign of Tom. She stood waiting in the shadows. An ambulance pulled out of the infirmary opposite sirens blaring. A car drove past, and she heard footsteps. A man stepped through the gates, he turned and shouted something, and a dog followed him. Kate watched until they disappeared. It was all exactly the same.

Someone else crossed the road. It was Pete. Kate almost called out to him but stopped herself. He slipped into the Plantations.

Kate listened. She could hear nothing but the sound of her own breathing. Then there was a scream from the woods, followed by laughter. She pulled on the cloak, and strode through the gates.

After a few feet, she stopped and waited. There was movement in the bushes to her left. She turned and ran in the opposite direction, pushing through the thick knot of branches.

“Wait!” Someone shouted, giving chase.

Kate knew the woods well, taking shortcuts few people would have known, but Tom was fast and she feared he would catch up with her. They sprinted along an overgrown path towards the valley and scrambled down to the river. There was a fallen tree trunk here, which Kate used as a bridge. She was half-way to the other side, when Tom leapt on. It wobbled. She crouched to maintain her balance, and bounded across the rest in three long strides. She needed to give herself a little extra time to climb the other side of the valley, so she grabbed hold of the trunk and shook it. Tom teetered for a moment, almost toppling into the rushing waters. He copied her example, crouching to avoid the plunge.

Kate did not look back as she pulled herself up the slope, grabbing at the grass and weeds. It was steep, and when she was at the top, her arms ached. Tom was already half way up. She ran across the moonlit field towards the woods. Wind blew across the waste length grass, which rippled in waves. They were almost there. As she passed under the trees, she came to a stop.

Where was the mist? She turned and saw Tom racing across the field. Her heart hammered against her chest. Where was it? Terror gripped Kate, as she struggled to grasp the consequences. She rushed deeper into the woods in a panic. Then she spotted it, rising from the ground, and then she understood. I am creating the mist, she thought. It was me. It was always me.

Then she was falling.

Hermes climbed the up a steep hillside. An old woman in a thick winter coat and 1940s style hat followed him. She used a walking stick to push herself up the hill, and moved with the skill of a practiced rambler.

“Thank you for everything you’ve done Evelyn,” said Hermes. “We couldn’t have got to this point without you.”

Silhouetted against the night sky was the shape of an old stone tower. As they neared the top, the shadowy shape of a man on a horse grew clearer. A tiny flicker of light came from his hand.

“Such a steep climb must have tired you old man. I will free them as soon as you hand it over. It is amazing what you discover after a day or two in a new place. Cigarettes, for example, are revolting at first, but can be soothing to the nerves. Of course, it is important to be careful around so much petrol.”

Another flicker of light came as he inhaled.

“This is a waste of time,” shouted Hermes. “I don’t have the book.”

“I do not believe you would sacrifice two innocent young men, for the sake of a little book.”

“And I do not believe you would commit murder for the sake of a little book. I have observed you Lancaster, and I know you are not as ruthless as you would like people to believe. It is an act, to ensure you get your own way. We can work together. That is why I sent the young people, to bring you here.”

“Nonsense,” said Lancaster, taking another draft of his cigarette. He held it at arm’s length.

The stranger stood watching in the darkness. He could hear Hermes speaking, but could not see the old man over the crest of the hill. Lancaster was about thirty yards away. Afterwards, Hermes and the others would be busy for a while, but the stranger knew he needed to plan a quick escape. He would run back the way he came, across the moors, and throw his weapon into the reservoir. Once he made it to the car park, no one would suspect an old man in a Morris Marina. The stranger lifted his gun. He would only get one chance. He waited until he could be sure, and pulled the trigger. The sound of the shot echoed. Lancaster tumbled from his horse, and the night erupted into flames.

Sophie emerged from the bushes and tumbled down the slope. Kate rushed over and pulled her to her feet. For a second, Sophie looked terrified. Then she laughed.

“Kate! How did you...” She glanced back the way they had come.

“I don’t have time to explain. Come with me now.”

Kate grabbed Sophie’s hand and pulled her back up the hill. On the floor, Tom’s still form groaned and slipped into unconsciousness.

“No!” Hermes shouted sprinting towards the door of the tower.

The fire had spread in seconds, almost blocking his way. He pulled his coat over his head and ducked through the entrance, into the tiny room. Smoke filled the chamber, and he could see nothing.

“Tom! Piotr!”

Hermes fell to his knees and felt his way around the room, searching. The heat had grown unbearable. He found a wall and made a complete circuit of the room. Back at the doorway, Hermes broke into an uncontrollable fit of coughing. He had to get back outside.

The tower was empty.

“Looks like this is it Tom.”

Tom struggled to free himself.

“I like her,” said Pete.

“I know Pete. Listen, there’s something...”

“You don’t have to say it mate...”

“...I need to tell you.”

“I know, Kate told me. Don’t worry, I’m fine with it. This is the 1980s. We’re bohemian intellectuals, you and I.”

“Shut up!” Tom said. “For one minute, shut up and listen. I’ve almost got my hands loose. If we roll back-to-back, you can help me.”

They shuffled on the dusty floor until their hands were adjacent. After several minutes of picking at the knot, they managed get Tom free. Tom untied his legs and helped Pete.

“Let’s get out of here before the nutter returns,” said Pete. “I have concerns about what he plans to do with all those cans of petrol.”

They hurried through the door of the tower, onto a dark misty hillside.

“Look,” said Pete, pointing to a distant hill, at the top of which a huge fire was blazing.

“Come on,” said Tom, breaking into a run. “We need to get to the Plantations.”

“Something is wrong,” Sophie said to Kate. They had been waiting half an hour, next to the Plantation Gates.

“Tom wouldn’t run off and leave me alone in the woods. He must have got hurt.”

“We should wait here a little longer,” said Kate, watching the road. “We agreed to meet here if we separated.”

Each time a vehicle approached, Kate felt a mounting anticipation, followed by disappointment.

“We should ring my dad at work,” said Sophie.

Kate heard the approaching sound of a scooter. A single light made its way up the lane. Seconds later Hermes pulled up, and lifted his goggles onto his forehead,

“Aren’t they with you?” Kate asked.

Hermes shook his head. “I was hoping they might be here. Lancaster captured them, but now he is dead.”

A bus stopped at the other side of the road.

“What’s going on?” Sophie asked. “Who’s Lancaster?”

“It’s a long story, and you’re not going to...”

“Here they are,” said Sophie. “Where the hell have you been?”

The bus had driven away, depositing two passengers. Tom and Pete crossed the road.

“We’ve spent an hour looking for you two,” said Sophie. “We were about to call the police.”

“We got a little side-tracked,” said Tom.

It was late as Tom and Sophie walked home. The streets were dark and empty.

“You do know Uncle Stan used to have a Mynah bird don’t you?” Tom asked.

“Moron,” said Sophie.

“He taught it to repeat filthy words. That’s was why dad never let us see the aviary. Aunty Joan hated the thing, and made him get rid of it.”

“I could think of a few words it didn’t know.”

“I bet you could,” said Tom.

“Don’t ever run off again you pillock.”

“I won’t.”

They arrived at the house. In the living room, Sophie grabbed one of her Bergerac videos, turned on the TV, and flopped onto the sofa.

Tom went through to the kitchen and put the kettle on.