Here is the first 31 pagers of my first book titled "Phoebe Leda and the Time Lockers". Hope you enjoy the extract. The book can be purchaced by me by contacting me via facebook Matt Hooper, this site, by mobile on 0411730105 or by email at phoebeleda@gmail.com.
ABN: 79460388331
First published in Australia 2011
Copyright © M.G. Hooper 2011
The right of M.G. Hooper to be identified as the Author
of the Work has been asserted in accordance with the
Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
This book is a work of fiction. Any similarities to that
of people living or dead are purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication
may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or
transmitted, in any form or by any means without
the prior written permission of the publisher, nor be
otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover
other than that in which it is published and without
a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent
purchaser.
Hooper, M.G.
ABN: 79460388331
First published in Australia 2011
Copyright © M.G. Hooper 2011
The right of M.G. Hooper to be identified as the Author
of the Work has been asserted in accordance with the
Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
This book is a work of fiction. Any similarities to that
of people living or dead are purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication
may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or
transmitted, in any form or by any means without
the prior written permission of the publisher, nor be
otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover
other than that in which it is published and without
a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent
purchaser.
Hooper, M.G.
Phoebe Leda and the Time Lockers
Chapter One
The Golden Mobile
Salisbury Plain, England, 20 January 2015
Scott stared at the cave’s opening from where he sat in his car on the other side of the quarry. He was trying his best to be patient about his late visitor because he really preferred to finally put this matter to rest. He wanted Kane out of his life.
He was now chilled to the bone and the wind started to howl bringing with it the rain which dampened his mood even further. He tried to rub his gloved hands together to warm himself but had little success in achieving this as he watched the weather turning worse than it already was. He had turned on the engine intermittently to fill the interior with warm air, but the car froze quickly every time he turned the ignition key off. He had now wished he had spent a few extra dollars on more gas because he had now been waiting here for hours and leaving the car on was using precious fuel he would surely need for his return trip to London. He was getting more irritable by the second and he crossed his arms in front of him and grumbled his discontent. Kane was always late, but never this late. There must be something wrong, he thought.
‘Where are you?’ He finally voiced his frustration, looking across the frozen ground towards the cave. His host’s punctuality was bad at the best of times, but this was just ridiculous. He stamped his feet, the best he could in the cramped conditions of the car, and rubbed his arms in a vain attempt again to keep the blood flowing in them and became more frustrated in his failed attempt. There was a gust of wind and the small puddles that dotted the floor of the quarry rippled as the car shook slightly. Scott continued staring at the cave then squinted when he saw a splash of light shutter across the cavity’s dark entrance. He took off his spectacles and cleaned them quickly with his handkerchief, placed them back on his face and hoped that what he saw was true. The light got even brighter. He was pleased but didn’t smile.
The water on the cave floor splashed up against the walls as the small group of men strode with purpose towards the entrance. The light of a dreary day shone before them as a clicking sound of a creature scurried after them. This was too close for the man trailing behind and he turned his head, tripping over. His own clumsiness scared him more than he was and his irritation boiled over.
‘Can’t you get that thing to back off?’ the man snapped loudly, getting to his feet and taking a few quick steps away from the fast approaching menace.
A figure stepped away from the middle of the line and took a mobile from his pocket and pointed it at the creature.
‘Stay here until I call you,’ he barked at the beast and then turned on his sweating colleague who was now nodding his approval. ‘Never give me orders or I’ll feed you to him next time,’ he snarled at the man and then pushed him in the back, forcing him to trip and fall onto the cold wet ground again. The others laughed as the man got to his feet and hobbled awkwardly after his tormenting colleagues who were now emerging from the cave.
The men, all dressed in black long coats, stood in a line as the mobile carrying leader of the group passed them and walked towards the car that now had a thin cover of sleet laying over it.
Scott opened his door and stiffly removed his frigid body from the car, pulled his jacket together and started slowly towards his late visitor. He was hoping Kane was in a better mood than his last meeting with him and tried to evaluate his temperament which was always hard to judge. Kane had a way of disguising his moods and disguising his true purpose. Scott had only met him twice and on both occasions Kane had scared him into a corner with his veiled threats and passive aggressive demeanour.
Scott thought it best to be on the front foot with him. ‘I have been waiting for hours, and my answer is still the same. I told you I don’t want any part of this. You have George. He will do the job you want done.’ He tried to drill this into Kane who never took no for an answer, and Scott was determined not to be bullied by him this time.
The cave dweller played with his mobile and snarled at Scott who had just rejected his offer for the last time. ‘I have something that might convince you, Scott,’ he sarcastically said, and then bit his lip in a vain effort to hide his contempt for the man standing before him.
Scott had played this game for far too long with him now and his persistence was getting wearisome. ‘If it’s more money, I said it’s not about that. I have all I need in the world, and that’s my family,’ he stated firmly, trying to convince the now agitated Kane.
Kane smirked, ‘Oh, this is not about money … it’s what I know you want out of life, and that’s technology. If you see what I have, I’m sure you will want to come.’ He widened his eyes and jabbed little nods at him.
Scott looked over at the line of men and started to lose his nerve and wanted to leave. ‘Really Kane I’m not that interested. It’s just not for me.’ He took a small step back, wanting to give Kane the impression the conversation was over and it was time to go. He should never have come here, and worse still, he should never have waited. How stupid you are, he said to himself.
Kane came up to him quickly and grabbed him hard by the collar. ‘Just have a look, you stupid fellow, and tell me afterwards what you think,’ he slyly quipped as he pulled Scott back towards the group and the cave. He was forcing Scott so strongly forward that he was in a constant state of tripping over his own feet.
Scott had lost the ability to breathe and felt his chest tightening under the realisation that he was now in a dangerous situation. He knew Kane was a bad-tempered individual and that’s why he had sent his family into hiding before he came, just in case.
‘Kane, I am sorry … surely we don’t need to get nasty … do we?’ Scott stammered out the words as he tried to hold his collar open so he wouldn’t choke from Kane’s rough handling of him.
Kane kept marching the scared man over to the line of men and waved them aside as he approached them. His party obliged him and parted to each side to let the two have a clear path to the cave’s mouth. The sleet turned to snow and in waves helped by small gusts of wind blew against the men as they waited in anticipation for what was to come.
Scott was petrified now and was helpless in the grasp of his tormentor. ‘What are you up to. Surely we can work something out,’ he pleaded with Kane as he was finally pushed onto the ground in front of the cave. Scott got to his feet and was beside himself with fright as he rubbed his mud soaked gloves on his trousers through nervousness more than worrying about the filth on them. ‘I don’t understand, what is it … is it in …?’ He gave a quick look towards the cave. ‘I’m not going in there.’ He straightened himself up in defiance then after glancing at the men, who were blankly staring at him, he noticed Kane smiling. Scott’s attention was taken back to the dark entrance again and straightened his crooked spectacles in a vain hope he could see what was in there. He would rather be bullied out here and now than go into that cave.
Kane shook his head, looking bewildered and amused. ‘Oh no, you stupid fool, I don’t want you to go in there. I want you to see what our technology could have shown you, in all its glory.’ Kane used his mouth as a theatrical tool to build his own show towards its final climax.
Scott stopped breathing, and moving, ‘Could have …’ he muttered and was about to run when Kane blanked his face and pointed the mobile towards the cave.
Scott turned and watched as the entrance, in all its darkness, came to life in a horror that made his jaw drop and lock into place with fear. He grunted and staggered back as the object approached him and he sized it up, trying to ascertain whether it was real or not. The men cheered and Kane laughed at the sight of the frightened individual in front of him.
Scott turned. ‘I’ll do anything, please, for pity sake!’
Kane sneered, ‘Too late.’
Melbourne, Australia, Ten Days Later
‘Bee … Bee … I have your uniform ready. Come down and get it … will you … please?’ her mother called from the foot of the stairs.
Phoebe hadn’t given much thought to what she’d be wearing tomorrow, and the feeling of dread and excitement hit her again, the fourth time that day she’d broken out into a shiver. She stopped writing her itinerary down and after marking her spot, closed her folder and got up from her desk. She dodged the clutter on the floor and opened her door.
‘Bee,’ her mother called again.
‘I’m here, just a second,’ Phoebe replied somewhat softer than her mother’s calls. She went down the landing and saw her mum at the bottom of the stairs, displaying her handiwork.
‘Pressed and hung, dear. What do you think?’ She held up Phoebe’s school dress. ‘You’ll look a million in this.’ Her mum waved the dress, assuming some over delight at her daughter starting a new period in her life. However, Phoebe thought it was her mother’s way of keeping her daughter distracted from the mood she knew she was in, (stressed), and could spring like a mouse trap emotionally if not suppressed constantly by her mother’s cheery smile.
‘Thank you, Mum,’ and she sprang down the stairs and wrapped her arms around her, nearly dislodging her mother’s grasp on the unwanted dress.
‘Careful, you will crease it all up,’ her mum complained while lifting her uniform out of the reach of her daughter.
‘It looks great,’ Phoebe lied. She was trying to sound grateful, but the dull colour of the fabric and the cut just didn’t warrant her overenthusiasm on the matter.
‘Now I want you to take this straight up and hang it in the wardrobe. Just don’t go throwing it onto the bed or even worse, on the floor … hear me, sweetie.’ Her mother summed her up, waiting for a truthful answer from her. Phoebe loved how her mum played the strict mother act sometimes. It was hard to take her seriously when she had that permanent jovial look fixed on her face.
Phoebe was seriously thinking about telling a white lie to her mother again but couldn’t bring herself to do it. ‘I will,’ and she grabbed the hanger from her mother and turned and sprang up the stairs, nearly tripping on her way up, leaving her mum with a disbelieving expression on her face.
‘Hang it up.’ Phoebe heard her mother cry out as she shut her bedroom door behind her. Phoebe moved towards the wardrobe when she recognised her computer sounding a familiar voice from it.
‘You there, Bee? Bee!’
She momentarily thought to place the uniform on the back of her chair at the desk, but she took the time to go over and do the time consuming chore before sitting down. She clicked on the screen and her penfriend Mim from New York came up on the screen. Phoebe’s monitor was so old the software was just able to flick enough to make out Mim’s striking features. Mim’s long black hair and blue eyes were always the first things she noticed as her stand out features. For a girl that seemed so optimistic and outgoing Phoebe had only ever seen Mim smile or laugh on the odd occasion. She always looked like she had the weight of the world on her shoulders and Phoebe put it down to just being a big city girl.
‘Hello Mim.’ Phoebe excessively smiled at her, thinking Mim’s webcam might be just as old as hers.
‘Hi Bee. How is prep for school going down under?’
Phoebe did not really know what to say other than, ‘Okay.’ She could hear the fakery in her own voice, and it irritated her. ‘Lots to do, I bet. Parents getting excited?’ Mim pushed on with her interrogation.
Phoebe touched her face with both hands, trying to find any pimples that might erupt, throwing her first day at the ladies college into a heads-down embarrassment for eight hours. ‘Mum’s more excited than me, I think,’ Phoebe whispered, trying not to be overheard by her mother downstairs.
Mim hesitated and seemed to look longer than usual at what Phoebe presumed was her keyboard. Then she popped up her head suddenly. ‘Have your parents given you anything special for your first day at school?’ she softly but bluntly asked.
Phoebe was a bit taken back and lost the use of her tongue for a second. She hadn’t really thought of getting anything special for her first day at school and it seemed to Phoebe a very odd question to ask her. Mim had sounded as though she knew something she didn’t and questioned her about it. ‘Do you know something I don’t?’
This time it was Mim’s turn to be taken aback. ‘No, I just thought they might have given you something special … It is an important day, you know,’ she mumbled to a stop and her mouth turned down.
Phoebe hadn’t expected such a reasonable answer to her question. ‘Well … maybe they might … They’re really busy, you know.’ She tried to swerve through her answer in a noble effort to make her parents look good. They did have a lot on their minds, Phoebe thought, with all that was happening at her father’s work. He was really busy at the moment and she had only seen him twice in the last month.
‘From what you have told me they’re really cool. You’re a lucky girl to have them Bee. I just wondered …’
‘I know, I know,’ Phoebe muttered, staring at the corner of her desk where the picture of her two brothers was sitting. Mim didn’t say anything and the silence stayed between them for a few seconds.
‘Thinking about your brothers, Bee?’ Mim finally blurted out. Had Mim sensed her pondering thoughts? She had been thinking about this topic in the weeks leading up to her new school year. It was always dwelling in the back of her mind. She had not talked about it with her parent’s because it was just an inevitable feeling that was hanging over them, a bad stain lingering over the whole event and bringing up the topic was not going to solve anything.
Mim continued, ‘So no pep talk and no present to send you off with.’ Mim persisted again with this line of questioning and Phoebe became more suspicious. Mim had a way of reading between the lines very well and was always sharp and to the point, but she was never this strange in their conversations together.
‘I don’t know what you’re getting at, Mim. Why would Mum and Dad want to talk to me and give me a present as well? Is there something you’re not telling me?’ Phoebe was getting irritated at Mim’s prying and evasiveness at the same time. Surely her friend should be straight with her, because she sounded the opposite, as if she was trying to tell her something important but couldn’t say it out loud.
‘No, and don’t get all worked up. I just want your school day to run well, that’s all.’ Mim dived for cover by taking a sip from a glass placed conveniently next to her.
Phoebe viewed her suspiciously and thought silence might crack open some straight talking, but Mim never gave in to her tactic. They both knew the chat was going to be short that day; however, Phoebe was looking forward to tomorrow night when the girls would engage in a chatting feast for hours about her new school. Mim had been at her new school for one year already and seemed to love every minute of it. Phoebe wondered if all she said was true sometimes because it sounded too wonderful to be true and she was always evasive over specifics about that also. Mim’s face just lit up when asked about social events they had there with all the horseriding, trips to the beach and even snow events. Phoebe just hoped her school was going to be just as good and frowned at the thought of the uniform her mother had given her. If any school wore such a hideous uniform it was going to be terrible.
‘Will talk to you tomorrow at school. Good luck, girl,’ Mim finished after letting Phoebe sit with what she had said. ‘At school,’ Phoebe sparked up, in a curious tone, so her tactic of silence had at least made Mim say something weird.
Mim paused, holding her hand out to turn off her web-cam. ‘I meant tomorrow night, about your school day. I just got confused a bit,’ Mim hurried her words out, slightly muddled, and gave Phoebe an unusual smile.
Phoebe wanted to make Mim talk, but she knew it was useless and she was too tired to really care now. ‘Cheers, Mim … yeah nerves. I will be better tomorrow when it’s all over …’ Phoebe replied, trying to look cheerful and still thinking about Mim’s bizarre behaviour. Was that a slip-up? It must have been; she was in New York, so how could Phoebe see her at school? She leant forward and after giving a little wink at Mim the screen went blank.
Mim and her had been talking for years now, seven all up, and had never met each other physically and even with plans to do so, it never happened. Phoebe spent a quiet life in her suburb of Melbourne while Mim was a talkative big city girl. Phoebe felt herself lucky to have someone like Mim, to talk things over with, as Mim had been a rock to her during the deaths of her older brothers in a car accident two years earlier. Phoebe always thought of her brothers when she felt out of sorts and wondered what they would be doing today if they were alive. She had survived the accident with her mother and the thought of not having them around always got her up and going because she knew she was lucky to be here. At least she was able to do the things her brothers would never get the chance to do.
‘I’ll wash my hair before dinner,’ she said, looking into a small mirror she had placed conveniently on top of the computer. Yes, freshen up and try on my uniform before bed, just to see, she said to herself, turning her head from side to side. She looked at her tired face and her blue eyes stared back at her in the reflection and she pondered all the events she had racing in her mind. She shivered for the fifth time.
‘You’re so emotionally complex, Bee,’ she said again, trying to liven up the image that reflected her nerves. It didn’t work. Phoebe bared her teeth and checked whether they needed some extra work to whiten them up and realised she would gain more attention if they were glowing and would settle with them the way they were.
‘Bee, dinner’s served, sweetie,’ her mother called out somewhat more subdued than before.
Phoebe shook her hair alive and got up from her desk. She flared her nostrils in anticipation for her mother’s cooking and hummed when she smelt the air of the kitchen as she opened her bedroom door. This seemed a great distraction from writing her details in all her school books and the smell of her mother’s cuisine placed her thoughts into her pillow before she had even eaten. The getting ready for school thing was tiring her now, and her bed was beckoning her.
Her mother was sitting at the table, reading her cookbook, when she entered the kitchen and Phoebe smiled broadly at the sight of her. Her mother returned her smile then turned her attention back to looking at her cookbook, but Phoebe knew her mother was deep in thought. This plump-faced woman in front of her, with short fair hair and lovely hazel eyes, seemed to be always searching for something through a distant stare and staring into a book didn’t fool her. This had always caught her attention and she often wondered what went on behind those eyes. Even when her mother tried to hide her, away thoughts, Phoebe could still tell. Her mother didn’t seem sad, just a long way away, as if she was playing out another life on a far distant planet. She loved her mother in her cooking apron because she looked like a friendly baker about to splash hot buns with butter in front of you to eat. The kitchen was small with a table to sit four with fresh flowers at the centre and that was about it. Phoebe could not get over how her mother cooked what she did in such a tiny workplace because she couldn’t study in here, let alone serve up a meal.
Phoebe sat down and waited for her mum to think out what was on her mind and then rubbed her hand to get her attention.
Her mother looked up and relayed her thoughts about the present, rather than what she was truly thinking about. ‘Your lovely father will be home late tonight, Bee, but he rang to say he is thinking of you and will make you a lovely breakfast tomorrow morning,’ her mother said, coming out of her melancholy mood with every word she spoke.
‘Dad – cook!’ Phoebe nearly coughed in an astonishing tone that she regretted immediately.
Her mother gave her a slightly scolded look. ‘Yes, your father. He wants very much for your first day to be a memorable one.’
‘It will be memorable if I get Delhi belly,’ Phoebe muttered as she took a mouthful of peas from her plate that were neatly presented before her.
‘Don’t be like that, Bee.’ Her mother tilted her head and stared off to no fixed point, smirking. ‘He tries …’ then looking back at Phoebe and smiling broadly, ‘he tries.’ Both of them burst out laughing and then sat dining and chatting about her mother’s first day at school. This was strange because her mum never talked much about her past and for that matter, nor did her father. If Phoebe hadn’t known any better her mum acted a lot like Mim sometimes.
Her mother placed her hand on Phoebe’s and looked at her intensely. Phoebe knew she was about to get the ‘now then, while I have you here talk’.
‘Your father and I …’ her mother started.
‘Oh, Mum,’ Phoebe wailed, trying to think of where to run if she could free herself quickly enough from her mother’s now firm grip on her.
‘No dear, let me finish.’ Her mother squared her chair over to the table’s corner closer and moved her plate to the side. The action of the plate movement said it all; Phoebe was going to get the talk.
Phoebe sighed, ‘All right, let me have it,’ she surrendered knowing there was no other option open to her.
‘Don’t be like that,’ her mother softly scolded her and waited for her to settle. ‘As I was about to say, your father and I want to chat to you about something,’ her mother firmly said, lifting her eyebrows, knowing what was coming.
‘Not Dad as well. It’s going to be embarrassing enough without Dad telling me,’ Phoebe groaned and swooped her head up and closed her eyes to the ceiling.
‘No dear, it’s not that talk. We had that one, remember,’ she smiled, reassuring her.
Phoebe repressed her moaning and turned it to questioning curiosity. ‘I just thought … well, you know … I thought there might be a second round of …’
‘Your father and I know you are a sensible girl concerning everything. We’re very proud of you, so there is no need for that talk again. No, this is something very different. Your father and I were going to sit down with you and talk to you tonight, but he got delayed.’
Phoebe started to go from curiosity to concern now and Mim’s words came back to her. This did not sound like it was going to be a cheerful conversation. ‘Mum … is everything all right?’ Phoebe questioned her with deepening concern that was growing rapidly.
‘Yes, dear, everything is fine. It is a little thing that we need to tell you … talk to you about, and it is better you hear it from the two of us. We meant to tell you about it a few years ago, but with …’ Her mother frowned and bent her head.
‘A few years ago!’ Phoebe squealed slightly and then it dawned on her. Phoebe leant over knowing her two sons had come to her mother’s mind. ‘It’s fine, Mum,’ then Phoebe changed tack immediately, wanting that smile back on her face. ‘What is it, Mum? What is it you need to tell me?’ She tried to sound spirited, but it took some effort. Her mother peered back into her eyes and Phoebe looked at her trying to find something familiar in her expressions, to make her less nervous than she was, but she found nothing that made her feel at ease.
‘Let’s wait till morning,’ her mother said, tapping Phoebe’s hand. Her mother got up and took her plate to the sink. ‘I will tell you everything in the morning, dear,’ then turned to face her daughter again. ‘Could you get up a couple of hours earlier for me sweetie?’ she said calmly.
Phoebe looked at her mother and thought it best to end the talk before her mother got upset. ‘Yeah, Mum,’ Phoebe reassured her then reluctantly added, ‘Am I in trouble?’
There was a moment of silence as Phoebe and her mother stared at each other with blank faces. Then her mother gave a tweak in her returning cheer. Her mother could tell the stress in her daughter’s face needed to be squashed a bit and added, ‘It’s not bad, Bee, it’s just … well, your father and I want to give you something, and we need to explain a few details about it.’
Phoebe became excited, as if a trap had been sprung. ‘Have you been talking to Mim?’ she said with a face of great expectation that indeed some secretive talking was going on behind her back. Her mother looked at her and her eyes darkened slightly and Phoebe didn’t expect that and wanted to take her words back, but a part of her didn’t.
‘You know I don’t go into your room, sweetie.’ She seemed confronted in the most subtle way.
Phoebe sensed her awkwardness and tried to dive for cover, but the best she could muster was a complete surrender on the topic, so she gave her mother all the facts that were on her mind.
‘Oh! I didn’t mean you were in my room, I just thought you might have been on the phone to her. Mim asked me whether you had chatted to me and if I had received anything from you and Dad … that’s all.’ Phoebe tried to sound like it was casual talk between friends, but she knew her mother wasn’t that naive or that casual.
‘Did she now…?’ Her frown deepened, but she still managed a smile. ‘Mim can be a live wire sometimes and should mind her own business.’
‘Oh she just said about getting a talk and …’
‘Let’s just talk tomorrow morning, Bee,’ her mother held her slightly strong tone as she moved around the table, and that was enough for Phoebe to admit defeat on the topic. She got up with her plate and licked the yummy leftovers before she offered it over to her. Her mother grabbed the plate and Phoebe gave her a cheeky look and licked the fork and knives just to make sure she had the job done properly.
Her mum rested the plates gently into the sink and came back over to her. ‘Please do something with your hair tomorrow, sweetie. You have such nice hair,’ her mother pleaded, standing behind her as she ran her hand down her blonde hair.
Phoebe raised her eyes, but her mother did not see her do it. ‘I will … I’ll place it up in a tight bun for you, will I?’ throwing her shoulders from side to side.
‘Oh you cheeky lass,’ her mother laughed and Phoebe’s shoulder got a small slap. Phoebe turned around to face her mother. Her mum only came up to her chest. Even at fourteen Phoebe thought herself a tall girl, and even after two years of doing nothing sporty she had kept her athletic build, or that’s what she hoped, knowing Thursday meant first period athletics. She hated running.
‘You’re going to break many hearts, you are, girlie,’ her mother said in an admiring tone.
Phoebe instantly became vain. ‘I know and they can all wait because I am all yours until I am eighteen or maybe even twenty-one,’ she answered her mother, winking.
‘You little liar. I know you’re a catch for anyone and you are growing out of your skin.’ Her mother’s face seemed tighter and anxious looking. Phoebe knew that face, a worried face that Phoebe hated to see on her mother. It was a look that came before tears. ‘I just want you to be careful at this new school, Bee.’
‘I will, Mum … I promise,’ clasping her mother’s cheeks in her hands and squeezing. ‘You know I will,’ giving her a reassured look while smacking a kiss into her mother’s squashed lips. Phoebe wondered what was going on. It was a ladies college and Mum was acting like she was entering a low security prison. Her thoughts turned back to the uniform. Maybe it was.
‘You had to grow up too quickly, little one.’ Her mother turned away.
‘Mum,’ she grabbed her hand and her mother turned back to face a now sleepy Phoebe, ‘I would give up everything again if I needed to, you know that and so does Dad. I love you Mum.’
‘I know you would and that’s why your father and mother want you back at school. No more looking after us. It’s time to look after you.’ Her mother grew nearer. ‘I love you, we both adore you and love you so much,’ as tears swelled up in her eyes.
‘Oh Mum, come here.’ Phoebe grabbed her mother and hugged her. It started to rain hard on the roof and a gust of wind tapped the window just enough to make the blinds move. Oh great I will have to get to school through a rain storm, Phoebe cursed at the window as she still silently embarrassed her mother.
‘Now off to bed with you,’ her mother clipped, and pulled away bowing her head, mopping up her tears in the tea towel. ‘I’ll finish this off.’
‘Night Mum.’ Phoebe heard her mum sniffing as she walked up the stairs, so she turned halfway and sat down and listened. Phoebe knew her mother’s tears were inevitable and she was best left alone to deal with them quietly. Her mother started to cry and Phoebe looked at the photo of her brothers on the wall. The phone rang suddenly and Phoebe could hear her mother’s name in the receiver as she picked it up and answered.
‘Leda’s residence,’ her mother said.
‘Jillian, it’s Graham, sorry,’ her father said in a cowering voice and Phoebe could not help give a small smile. Dad was always saying sorry even when he hadn’t done anything wrong.
‘You should be here. We have put this off for far too long. She has enough on her plate, and now we have to tell her all this on the morning of her new school day,’ Jillian moaned at him.
Phoebe turned her ear and strained to listen, knowing she was naughty in doing so. Phoebe did not hear her mother speak in that tone to her dad very often and she frowned, hoping she was not going to be the cause of irritability between them. What was it they wanted to tell her, and give her? It was all getting very weird and her mother was tapping her fingers on the wall close to the door, and the sound increased her anxiety Phoebe was starting to feel about tomorrow.
Her mother continued, ‘Anyway, I have placed the ball rolling on the subject, and like always, your beautiful daughter took it all very well. She will talk with us in the morning at five o’clock,’ her mother said sternly. She must have turned away from the door because Phoebe could not hear anymore on the phone. She just had closing pleasantries with her dad and Phoebe could hear the phone click back down on the wall mount. Phoebe turned and crept up the stairs and along the landing and into her room.
What could it be, she thought. What is it Mum and Dad wanted to tell her? Mum and Dad never had anything hidden from her and this was all starting to be very suspicious. Should she call Mim? She was the one that knew something for sure and I will grill her about it until I get the truth, she thought. She looked at the computer, but it was too late now as she turned in a tight circle in the middle of her room. Mum and Dad wanted to give me something, but what did they want to give me? She will know at five o’clock tomorrow morning and the sooner she was asleep the sooner she would get her answers.
Phoebe stopped, looked over to the wardrobe and moved over to it, still thinking, and absentmindedly opened the wardrobe. Phoebe ran her eyes over the uniform which was a simple object so full of meaning of what was to come in the next four years. She didn’t need to try it on; Mum had measured and played with it for days, and her body had the pin pricks still on it from her mother’s workings. She surveyed the room to check her school bag and books and arrange her head, in order, for a sound, worry free sleep. Have I forgotten anything, she puzzled over … no, all ready?
The wind was getting more miserable outside now and she looked out to see the trees playing with it. That’s going to mess up the hair she succumbed to the inevitable. She got into bed and placed the light off. Her mind wandered into the darkness. What did Mum and Dad need to tell me … what did Mum and Dad need to tell me … school … school … Mim should … told … present for me …
Sleep came.
Phoebe was falling. Was she dreaming? She felt nausea come over her sleep, but she was asleep, wasn’t she? She awoke abruptly and her eyes squinted at her clock display. Two-thirty in the morning, it glowed in a red blur. Why was the room spinning? She sat up resting on her hands, waiting to sense something, the next thing? The room shuddered slightly and she flinched. Was it an earthquake? I’m fine, must have been …
The scream she heard next from downstairs pierced the room and moved like a blade into her ears. She jumped in fright then froze and waited till the realisation hit her that it was a scream she had heard. She sprang from her bed and to the door, hardly hitting the floor on her way there. She grabbed the handle, turned and pulled but nothing happened. Then a blinding light came from under the door and she leapt back in fright at its intensity. It dimmed slightly, so she moved back to the door and tried again but nothing happened. It seemed fastened, glued to the frame and was not going to budge. It must be a fire. She had to get to her parents.
‘Mum!’ she shouted as she pulled the doorhandle, frustrated at it thwarting her efforts again. She placed her foot up against the wall and heaved at the handle, but nothing gave an inch to her efforts.
Another scream then a shout and then a loud bang rocked the rooms below. Was that her dad shouting? No, it was her mother, wasn’t it? It did not sound like her dad? Then the room started to shake and the trembling got more intense.
‘Where is it?!’ Phoebe heard someone shout downstairs. She sprang back from the door as if the voice was an enemy, an unknown quantity. That was someone she didn’t know and it didn’t sound like a firefighter, and Phoebe couldn’t smell smoke. She was about to yell when another voice came through the house, a voice she knew.
‘I’m not telling!’ Her father’s loud voice was unmistakable to her and she froze. His tone was one she had never heard before and it came deep within him and it scared Phoebe into wanting to help him. Phoebe was about to call out to her father but thought better of it. If someone was in the house she did not want to court their attention. Dad would handle it, wouldn’t he, and she paused unable to bring herself to do anything.
Someone was in the house?
How could Mum and Dad get away from them? The shaking in her room got more intense as the shouts and loud noises became louder on the other side of the door. Why was the room shaking? Phoebe heard thumping and turned her ear to the door. Someone was now coming up the stairs and she backed away, hoping it was help, but was it help? What was going on?
Phoebe lost her footing and fell to one knee. The shaking was terrible. It has to be an earthquake, wasn’t it, but what did the voice want? The shaking started to develop more as she heard the house strain outside her room. She swayed abruptly, but nothing seemed to move in her room except her. Was this in her mind, she thought and looked at the light flickering through the cracks in the door that were forming shadows across her feet. She turned towards the window and the shaking was now terrible. She started to feel like she was part of the room itself. Her body swayed with the movement as the nausea left her and was replaced instead with immense fear.
BOOM!
Then nothing. Stillness sprang over everything as quick as a flash of lightning. She stood at the window prepared to open it up and scream out for help. She waited – silence.
She peered out the window – silence. The night was clear and the wind and rain had ceased to pester the pre dawn hours and she searched up the street looking for anything that would explain this. Apart from the familiar cars parked in the narrow lane where she lived there was an absolutely deathly silence that polarised the preceding events. Had a bomb gone off and killed everyone because that’s what it felt like.
She needed a way out, not the door, she thought. Mum and Dad were out there though, but what if someone she did not want to see was? Sweat now broke out over her whole body as shock started to overwhelm her. She dry retched with the fear and her desire to do something was overwhelming her. What to do, what to do. Whoever was in the house could come through that door at any second. The window, she thought, that was her only escape. She placed her hands at the bottom and tried to lift it, but nothing happened. She fiddled with the lock and tried again, but the window stuck fast. Again she heaved, but nothing gave as she strained to lift it harder, then the handle of her door rattled. She swung around to look and strained to hear what was happening on the other side. She could only see moving shadows creeping on the floor and the handle moving.
She turned back to the window then saw a man over the other side of the street casually walking his dog. She tapped on the window, but he didn’t look over and continued to stroll away. She then lifted her fist and banged on the window and when the man did not look up she raised her fist to break the glass. She hit it with all the force she could muster, but it felt as hard as concrete. Phoebe wailed silently in pain and crouched over, holding her fist and then the pain disappeared as quickly as it had come.
THUMP, THUMP, THUMP, the door bellowed thickly as someone pounded on it with such force it made her eardrums thud.
‘Let us in, it’s the police!’
Phoebe moved over to the door and went to open it, relieved the situation was under control. Her parents would be safely downstairs waiting for her and she turned and pulled the handle again just to find it stuck fast.
‘It won’t open!’ Phoebe called out.
‘Don’t be silly, Miss, just open the door and let us in,’ the voice said roughly.
‘We’re here now. Your mum and dad are fine, they’re safe,’ came another voice that sounded empty. There was something about that voice that Phoebe did not like and it was a woman’s voice. Phoebe knew she was not a worldly girl, but she knew the things she distrusted and she distrusted that voice.
‘Where are my mum and dad?’ Phoebe demanded back, thinking that was the first thing to ask before demanding IDs from them.
They’re fine … just open the door and you can see them,’ another women’s voice reassured her. Phoebe was relieved to hear a nicer older female voice and it made her more relaxed as it seemed pleasant. She moved towards the door and placed her hand on the doorhandle, but it was just as frustrating as the window.
‘The door won’t open,’ an intrusive voice sounded behind her suddenly. Phoebe jumped around thinking someone was there, but no one was. Did that voice come from outside the door, or was she just confused? She sprang to the window and no one was there.
‘It’s me, Mim, and if you ask for IDs, don’t believe them,’ the voice came from the computer as the screen flicked to life without Phoebe touching anything. She turned from the window in two minds. There was too much information overwhelming her senses and she stayed fixed to the spot waiting for something more for her to understand what was happening.
‘Open the door, Phoebe,’ a harsh voice sounded outside her room.
Phoebe tried to unravel the confusion she was feeling and said, ‘How did you know my name?!’ Phoebe yelled, ignoring Mim.
There was a small pause but long enough for Phoebe to know she was now in trouble, serious trouble. ‘Shut up John,’ came the ladies voice. ‘You’ll just freak her out more.’
Phoebe could have melted away into thin air now as that seemed to be the only hiding place left to her. She felt caged like a lion with no way out and she only wished she could act like a lion if anyone came through that door to do her harm.
Mim yelled out of the monitor, ‘Look Bee, the same thing has happened to me tonight. They want to get into the room. I need you to find a phone before they do. It looks like a …’
‘What do you mean?’ Phoebe swung her attention to the monitor and went to the screen, yelling her response, ‘My mum and dad are in trouble. I need to get to them … You’re in trouble too? Who are they, what do they want? They want me to open the door, but I can’t get it open, and the window’s the same. What’s going on? I need to help Mum and Dad!’ Phoebe yelled at her through the monitor.
‘That’s right, girlie, just open the damn door, and you can see them,’ a harsh voice echoed through the door. Now the noise outside her room was starting to rise more frantically and Phoebe started to be outright terrified, if being more terrified than she was was possible. Wood scraping and glass cracking and breaking was too much for her, but not a thing moved in her room.
‘We’re running out of time, Sandra. Break the door down,’ came a surly voice that made Phoebe’s hair stand on end.
‘We have already tried that, you …’
‘Don’t push me Sandra.’
Phoebe could feel the nastiness in their tones and she swallowed hard, trying to build up some courage, but it fell away from her as fast as she could top it up. ‘It won’t budge. I told you its jammed shut, see,’ the female voice snapped back at its harsh questioner.
Mim was hitting her monitor hard, trying to keep Phoebe’s attention and she managed to get it. ‘Bee, I need to talk to you. Your parents are gone. You need to get a mobile that is in your room. Your parents have placed it there somewhere.’ Mim was glad to have her friend’s focus and held her hands out to her own monitor, wanting to be in the room with Phoebe.
‘What do you mean, those people will be in my room soon and I can’t get out?’ Phoebe swung her attention away from Mim and back to the window and jumped towards it, but again it failed to open when she tried.
Mim hit her screen again. ‘It won’t work, Bee. You need the mobile. It looks exactly like a gold mobile. Listen to me, PLEASE,’ Mim pleaded with her and Phoebe came back over, tripping in her panic as her scared eyes finally found the webcam her friend was peering through.
‘My mum and …’ she cried and looked around as the intruders banged hard on the door again and Phoebe recoiled in fright when a large bang warped the door. She turned again to Mim and she screamed, ‘What do they want?!’
‘Bee, just settle down,’ Mim pleaded with her.
Phoebe was shaking, half listening as she knelt down wanting this all to end. The banging and scraping at her door intensified as Phoebe looked around again as smoke started to waft in from under the door.
‘What’s happening to me, Mim?’ Phoebe started to uncontrollably cry. Her fear was boiling inside her now, trapped in the room waiting for the unwanted guests to gain entry. ‘What do they want, Mim?’ Phoebe held the screen like she was trying to grab her shoulders and get the truth out of her.
‘Stay calm. You have some time, trust me, you have time!’ Mim shouted at her, then placed her hands out as if to calm her. ‘You-need-to-get-the-phone, and do what I tell you to do, Bee. It is in the room somewhere. Please trust me.’
‘There’s nothing here, Mim. I would have seen it. It would be in Mum and Dad’s room,’ Phoebe pleaded for some sanity out of her friend.
‘If it was, you would be taken by now. Now go, Bee … go!’
Mim shouted at her.
Phoebe tried to unscramble her mind, ‘Taken … where … what … I am going to be kidnapped!’ Phoebe could not handle the information overload. ‘Mim, what do you know? What is happening?’ Phoebe begged Mim to tell her but knew she was wasting her own time in doing so.
‘Bee, I haven’t got time to explain … Go … go and find it!’ Mim shrilled from the monitor. Phoebe was startled at Mim’s loud voice and it managed to snap her into action. She started to scan the room. She could ring someone – yes, that’s it. Where would the object be?
She leapt to the wardrobe just as a loud crack jolted the door. She gasped at the noise, but even as she jolted with every bang and thump she kept scouring through her clothes, throwing everything across the room. She scrambled into another built-in wardrobe and started throwing shoe boxes in all directions.
BANG!
Another jolt rocked the wall, and this time it was the loudest and strongest as the room shuddered and felt like it cracked. They were trying to smash in through the wall now, but Phoebe had one purpose on her mind and that was finding that phone. It was a race now. She wanted the phone and they wanted entry and she was determined to win the contest.
‘This is mad!’ cried a voice outside the door. ‘Just shear it off the hinges at any cost. I don’t care if you lose your hands doing it. Get it off! You’re all damn useless!’ cried the awful man’s voice that was turning psychopathic in his tirade of the others.
‘Yes, it’s mad!’ Phoebe shouted out. ‘Yes, it’s mad,’ she then muttered to herself as she smashed her way through her belongings that were neatly stacked on the top shelves.
Phoebe managed to get to a box of belts, opened it and threw the empty container across the room behind her when she found it useless to her hunt. One of the box lids hit a photo frame and it toppled to the floor with a distinctive thump that sounded like a brick hitting the floor. She spun around to see the photo of her brothers laying there with a gold object poking out from underneath one of its corners.
‘Bingo!’ she screamed to herself.
Phoebe went down on all fours and scrambled across the floor where she moved the photo to reveal a gold object that looked like nothing she had seen before. She seized it and Phoebe nearly fell forward from the weight of it. It was incredibly heavy and she had no time to think before a light echo shuddered through the room and she nearly dropped it, if she could. Her hand tightened around it and tingled as the feeling moved up her arm and she got goose pimples through her body. She felt calmer now and less afraid as a determination and purpose flowed through her. She felt clearer and stronger in the head, tougher and more confident with the situation she was up against. Was this her way out of here?
She stumbled to her feet and moved to her desk. ‘Got it, Mim. I’ll ring the police,’ Phoebe stated as she began to press buttons on the mobile like a manic monkey using an ATM.
Mim called to her, ‘No! Bee, the police won’t help you, I need you to …’
‘We have your parents, you little brat. Let us in now or we’re coming in,’ came a voice over the noise outside her room.
‘Ignore them, Bee. They can’t get in for a while … Bee, do you trust me?’ Mim was trying to keep Phoebe focused. ‘You need to get to your school and then to your locker.’
‘My school … locker … what are you …’
‘I’m telling you the facts, Bee. You need to get to your school and the locker,’ Mim again demanded Phoebe to listen to her.
‘How can I get out of here? I’m five storeys up!’ Phoebe cried out, still blindly pressing buttons on the gold phone in her hysteria, but nothing would happen. The menu on the screen was awkward to manage and she was at a loss to find anything that resembled what she was use to in dealing with mobiles or what would help her in dialling out.
‘I know you are, but the phone you have will open the window. Just do what I tell you to do. Go into the applications window, scroll down through the menu and find “bedroom” then “window”, press the green button and it will open.
Phoebe pressed away as Mim held her hands together, knowing she had Phoebe doing what she was telling her to do.
Suddenly Phoebe felt her heels lift off the ground, but she wasn’t doing anything. Her balance was maintained and she started to feel a rush of warm blood through her whole body. Then it happened. If she hadn’t seen it she would not have believed it possible. She was glowing a faint blue. The crashing sounds of the intruders vanished and a peace came over her as her heels moved down again and rested on the floor. The blue faded and the noise rushed back into her ears. She looked down at the mobile. What was this thing she had in her hand? She wanted to throw it away, but there was something deep within it that wanted to stay attached to her, so she held it tight. She composed herself and viewed the phone’s screen with a calmness she had never felt in her entire life.
Another bang erupted outside the door and Phoebe didn’t flinch. Her state of mind was clear, at the moment, and she didn’t question herself or the phone. She raised the mobile to the window and was about to press the green button when the window sprang open so quickly she jumped back.
‘It’s open,’ Phoebe gave a cry of relief. She flew to the window and was about to yell out into the street when something stopped her. Her mum and dad wanted her to have this phone and Mim had known all about it. How could she not listen to her now?
‘Get to the street. She’s going out the window,’ a voice came from the landing outside her room, a calmer more sinister tone.
‘Yes, Kane,’ answered someone.
Phoebe went to the computer again to seek more directions from her friend in a less frantic tone. ‘What do I do now?’
‘I need you to jump out the window, Bee, and get to your new school, get to your locker and open it. The key is on the side,’ Mim calmly finished as if she told someone every day to just throw themselves out a window.
Phoebe stepped back from the computer. Her friend was telling her to jump from the window, a window five storeys from the ground. Was this some kind of sick joke that she was playing on her? She had known Mim for years. Why would she tell her to do this? It was crazy to do what she asked of her … crazy. The Internet was full of weirdos. Had she been one of those ignorant, naive teenagers that had been swooped up by a crazed maniac, but Mim was her only friend and she leant forward again as another crack scraped across the wall.
‘You want me to jump from the window?’ Phoebe said, bewildered as her face filled with tears that rolled down her cheeks. She started to drill her eyes into the computer screen, searching for meaning in anything she had just heard.
CRACK, TEAR! The door split and the sound of wood breaking permeated the room and splinters scattered across the floor. Phoebe covered her face with her hand as she got showered with debris and smoke poured in.
‘Bee, listen to me. The application has been broken. Your parents have protected you for years now, and from now on you need to trust me. I love you, Bee, you know that,’ Mim pleaded her case and Phoebe felt her words as being true, but she could not do what she asked of her.
The door shuddered and Phoebe’s knees buckled and the phone in her hand sank deeper into her flesh as she gripped it more tightly, or was it the phone grasping onto her? A hand came through the crack in the door and it had a stick of yellow light held within its grasp.
‘She is weak like her brother,’ a voice loudly mumbled in frustration and Phoebe felt a cold chill hit her, and a man cried out at being hit by one of his colleagues outside the room with him.
‘Bee, get out of the window … NOW, and don’t let go of that phone. Your mother and father want you to live, Bee, and you are going to get here and we can help you.’ Mim was outright beside herself now. She was frightened for her safety and Phoebe was starting to see her point. Phoebe’s mind burned with the words: ‘she is weak like her brother’.
The last words Phoebe could hear from Mim as she moved towards the window were: ‘Don’t let them catch you. They will kill you if they need to’.
Phoebe placed her hands on the sill and put her leg out the window and froze. The people at the door were nearly through, so she yelled out, up the street, but there was no one around to listen. She held up the golden object and it felt warm in her hands. This is what Mum and Dad wanted me to have. This is what my Mum and Dad wanted to give me, my parents’ gift to me. If she didn’t trust anyone she trusted her parents, and for all their distance apart, she trusted Mim.
She moved out the window, sitting on the ledge a few centimetres between her and certain death. Surely there was a point to this as she stared down at the pavement that seemed so very far below her. The fire brigade would be here any minute and they will rescue me, she hoped.
Then it happened. It happened slowly from that point on in front of Phoebe’s eyes. Her mind slowed and she became mellow as the fear vanished from her, but there was something rushing through her the opposite way to what she was feeling. She felt like she had stepped into another world, a world she controlled fully.
Phoebe turned to see the door torn apart and a swarm of black shadows moving at speed across her bedroom floor towards her. The room buckled upon them as if trying to hinder their advance towards her. Out of sheer fright she swung herself around so that now she was perched like a girl about to set off doing backstroke in a pool.
Then she saw their faces.
It was by far the most frightening thing that was equal to the predicament of hanging in that position. Their faces were as cold as anything she had ever seen, lifeless and mean. She let go, one hand at first and then, waiting for the last millisecond, she let go of the other one. She felt the last touch of her toe leave the building, her home. Was this the last time she would ever feel it? Phoebe felt her body in the void of nothingness and as she fell back, a hand extended from the window with incredible speed, searching for her. Then she thought she saw something, something that shocked her. Something she felt she had to move away from because it terrified her. She thought she saw her brother’s face at the corner beyond the window, a glimpse through the chaos of figures descending upon her. In an instant her mind changed and wanted to reach for him and she stretched out her arm to try to rescue herself. From the corner of her eye, without feeling it, her hand with the mobile came across and hit her other hand out of the searching reach of her would-be rescuer. She fell, turning in midair to see the street below. How could she be so stupid?! she screamed to herself silently. Her body rolled over on its side and she saw the bottom floor of the apartment building passing by her. For a moment she thought time itself was slowing down, but she could see her world running quickly past her eyes. Phoebe, she said to herself.
Chapter One
The Golden Mobile
Salisbury Plain, England, 20 January 2015
Scott stared at the cave’s opening from where he sat in his car on the other side of the quarry. He was trying his best to be patient about his late visitor because he really preferred to finally put this matter to rest. He wanted Kane out of his life.
He was now chilled to the bone and the wind started to howl bringing with it the rain which dampened his mood even further. He tried to rub his gloved hands together to warm himself but had little success in achieving this as he watched the weather turning worse than it already was. He had turned on the engine intermittently to fill the interior with warm air, but the car froze quickly every time he turned the ignition key off. He had now wished he had spent a few extra dollars on more gas because he had now been waiting here for hours and leaving the car on was using precious fuel he would surely need for his return trip to London. He was getting more irritable by the second and he crossed his arms in front of him and grumbled his discontent. Kane was always late, but never this late. There must be something wrong, he thought.
‘Where are you?’ He finally voiced his frustration, looking across the frozen ground towards the cave. His host’s punctuality was bad at the best of times, but this was just ridiculous. He stamped his feet, the best he could in the cramped conditions of the car, and rubbed his arms in a vain attempt again to keep the blood flowing in them and became more frustrated in his failed attempt. There was a gust of wind and the small puddles that dotted the floor of the quarry rippled as the car shook slightly. Scott continued staring at the cave then squinted when he saw a splash of light shutter across the cavity’s dark entrance. He took off his spectacles and cleaned them quickly with his handkerchief, placed them back on his face and hoped that what he saw was true. The light got even brighter. He was pleased but didn’t smile.
The water on the cave floor splashed up against the walls as the small group of men strode with purpose towards the entrance. The light of a dreary day shone before them as a clicking sound of a creature scurried after them. This was too close for the man trailing behind and he turned his head, tripping over. His own clumsiness scared him more than he was and his irritation boiled over.
‘Can’t you get that thing to back off?’ the man snapped loudly, getting to his feet and taking a few quick steps away from the fast approaching menace.
A figure stepped away from the middle of the line and took a mobile from his pocket and pointed it at the creature.
‘Stay here until I call you,’ he barked at the beast and then turned on his sweating colleague who was now nodding his approval. ‘Never give me orders or I’ll feed you to him next time,’ he snarled at the man and then pushed him in the back, forcing him to trip and fall onto the cold wet ground again. The others laughed as the man got to his feet and hobbled awkwardly after his tormenting colleagues who were now emerging from the cave.
The men, all dressed in black long coats, stood in a line as the mobile carrying leader of the group passed them and walked towards the car that now had a thin cover of sleet laying over it.
Scott opened his door and stiffly removed his frigid body from the car, pulled his jacket together and started slowly towards his late visitor. He was hoping Kane was in a better mood than his last meeting with him and tried to evaluate his temperament which was always hard to judge. Kane had a way of disguising his moods and disguising his true purpose. Scott had only met him twice and on both occasions Kane had scared him into a corner with his veiled threats and passive aggressive demeanour.
Scott thought it best to be on the front foot with him. ‘I have been waiting for hours, and my answer is still the same. I told you I don’t want any part of this. You have George. He will do the job you want done.’ He tried to drill this into Kane who never took no for an answer, and Scott was determined not to be bullied by him this time.
The cave dweller played with his mobile and snarled at Scott who had just rejected his offer for the last time. ‘I have something that might convince you, Scott,’ he sarcastically said, and then bit his lip in a vain effort to hide his contempt for the man standing before him.
Scott had played this game for far too long with him now and his persistence was getting wearisome. ‘If it’s more money, I said it’s not about that. I have all I need in the world, and that’s my family,’ he stated firmly, trying to convince the now agitated Kane.
Kane smirked, ‘Oh, this is not about money … it’s what I know you want out of life, and that’s technology. If you see what I have, I’m sure you will want to come.’ He widened his eyes and jabbed little nods at him.
Scott looked over at the line of men and started to lose his nerve and wanted to leave. ‘Really Kane I’m not that interested. It’s just not for me.’ He took a small step back, wanting to give Kane the impression the conversation was over and it was time to go. He should never have come here, and worse still, he should never have waited. How stupid you are, he said to himself.
Kane came up to him quickly and grabbed him hard by the collar. ‘Just have a look, you stupid fellow, and tell me afterwards what you think,’ he slyly quipped as he pulled Scott back towards the group and the cave. He was forcing Scott so strongly forward that he was in a constant state of tripping over his own feet.
Scott had lost the ability to breathe and felt his chest tightening under the realisation that he was now in a dangerous situation. He knew Kane was a bad-tempered individual and that’s why he had sent his family into hiding before he came, just in case.
‘Kane, I am sorry … surely we don’t need to get nasty … do we?’ Scott stammered out the words as he tried to hold his collar open so he wouldn’t choke from Kane’s rough handling of him.
Kane kept marching the scared man over to the line of men and waved them aside as he approached them. His party obliged him and parted to each side to let the two have a clear path to the cave’s mouth. The sleet turned to snow and in waves helped by small gusts of wind blew against the men as they waited in anticipation for what was to come.
Scott was petrified now and was helpless in the grasp of his tormentor. ‘What are you up to. Surely we can work something out,’ he pleaded with Kane as he was finally pushed onto the ground in front of the cave. Scott got to his feet and was beside himself with fright as he rubbed his mud soaked gloves on his trousers through nervousness more than worrying about the filth on them. ‘I don’t understand, what is it … is it in …?’ He gave a quick look towards the cave. ‘I’m not going in there.’ He straightened himself up in defiance then after glancing at the men, who were blankly staring at him, he noticed Kane smiling. Scott’s attention was taken back to the dark entrance again and straightened his crooked spectacles in a vain hope he could see what was in there. He would rather be bullied out here and now than go into that cave.
Kane shook his head, looking bewildered and amused. ‘Oh no, you stupid fool, I don’t want you to go in there. I want you to see what our technology could have shown you, in all its glory.’ Kane used his mouth as a theatrical tool to build his own show towards its final climax.
Scott stopped breathing, and moving, ‘Could have …’ he muttered and was about to run when Kane blanked his face and pointed the mobile towards the cave.
Scott turned and watched as the entrance, in all its darkness, came to life in a horror that made his jaw drop and lock into place with fear. He grunted and staggered back as the object approached him and he sized it up, trying to ascertain whether it was real or not. The men cheered and Kane laughed at the sight of the frightened individual in front of him.
Scott turned. ‘I’ll do anything, please, for pity sake!’
Kane sneered, ‘Too late.’
Melbourne, Australia, Ten Days Later
‘Bee … Bee … I have your uniform ready. Come down and get it … will you … please?’ her mother called from the foot of the stairs.
Phoebe hadn’t given much thought to what she’d be wearing tomorrow, and the feeling of dread and excitement hit her again, the fourth time that day she’d broken out into a shiver. She stopped writing her itinerary down and after marking her spot, closed her folder and got up from her desk. She dodged the clutter on the floor and opened her door.
‘Bee,’ her mother called again.
‘I’m here, just a second,’ Phoebe replied somewhat softer than her mother’s calls. She went down the landing and saw her mum at the bottom of the stairs, displaying her handiwork.
‘Pressed and hung, dear. What do you think?’ She held up Phoebe’s school dress. ‘You’ll look a million in this.’ Her mum waved the dress, assuming some over delight at her daughter starting a new period in her life. However, Phoebe thought it was her mother’s way of keeping her daughter distracted from the mood she knew she was in, (stressed), and could spring like a mouse trap emotionally if not suppressed constantly by her mother’s cheery smile.
‘Thank you, Mum,’ and she sprang down the stairs and wrapped her arms around her, nearly dislodging her mother’s grasp on the unwanted dress.
‘Careful, you will crease it all up,’ her mum complained while lifting her uniform out of the reach of her daughter.
‘It looks great,’ Phoebe lied. She was trying to sound grateful, but the dull colour of the fabric and the cut just didn’t warrant her overenthusiasm on the matter.
‘Now I want you to take this straight up and hang it in the wardrobe. Just don’t go throwing it onto the bed or even worse, on the floor … hear me, sweetie.’ Her mother summed her up, waiting for a truthful answer from her. Phoebe loved how her mum played the strict mother act sometimes. It was hard to take her seriously when she had that permanent jovial look fixed on her face.
Phoebe was seriously thinking about telling a white lie to her mother again but couldn’t bring herself to do it. ‘I will,’ and she grabbed the hanger from her mother and turned and sprang up the stairs, nearly tripping on her way up, leaving her mum with a disbelieving expression on her face.
‘Hang it up.’ Phoebe heard her mother cry out as she shut her bedroom door behind her. Phoebe moved towards the wardrobe when she recognised her computer sounding a familiar voice from it.
‘You there, Bee? Bee!’
She momentarily thought to place the uniform on the back of her chair at the desk, but she took the time to go over and do the time consuming chore before sitting down. She clicked on the screen and her penfriend Mim from New York came up on the screen. Phoebe’s monitor was so old the software was just able to flick enough to make out Mim’s striking features. Mim’s long black hair and blue eyes were always the first things she noticed as her stand out features. For a girl that seemed so optimistic and outgoing Phoebe had only ever seen Mim smile or laugh on the odd occasion. She always looked like she had the weight of the world on her shoulders and Phoebe put it down to just being a big city girl.
‘Hello Mim.’ Phoebe excessively smiled at her, thinking Mim’s webcam might be just as old as hers.
‘Hi Bee. How is prep for school going down under?’
Phoebe did not really know what to say other than, ‘Okay.’ She could hear the fakery in her own voice, and it irritated her. ‘Lots to do, I bet. Parents getting excited?’ Mim pushed on with her interrogation.
Phoebe touched her face with both hands, trying to find any pimples that might erupt, throwing her first day at the ladies college into a heads-down embarrassment for eight hours. ‘Mum’s more excited than me, I think,’ Phoebe whispered, trying not to be overheard by her mother downstairs.
Mim hesitated and seemed to look longer than usual at what Phoebe presumed was her keyboard. Then she popped up her head suddenly. ‘Have your parents given you anything special for your first day at school?’ she softly but bluntly asked.
Phoebe was a bit taken back and lost the use of her tongue for a second. She hadn’t really thought of getting anything special for her first day at school and it seemed to Phoebe a very odd question to ask her. Mim had sounded as though she knew something she didn’t and questioned her about it. ‘Do you know something I don’t?’
This time it was Mim’s turn to be taken aback. ‘No, I just thought they might have given you something special … It is an important day, you know,’ she mumbled to a stop and her mouth turned down.
Phoebe hadn’t expected such a reasonable answer to her question. ‘Well … maybe they might … They’re really busy, you know.’ She tried to swerve through her answer in a noble effort to make her parents look good. They did have a lot on their minds, Phoebe thought, with all that was happening at her father’s work. He was really busy at the moment and she had only seen him twice in the last month.
‘From what you have told me they’re really cool. You’re a lucky girl to have them Bee. I just wondered …’
‘I know, I know,’ Phoebe muttered, staring at the corner of her desk where the picture of her two brothers was sitting. Mim didn’t say anything and the silence stayed between them for a few seconds.
‘Thinking about your brothers, Bee?’ Mim finally blurted out. Had Mim sensed her pondering thoughts? She had been thinking about this topic in the weeks leading up to her new school year. It was always dwelling in the back of her mind. She had not talked about it with her parent’s because it was just an inevitable feeling that was hanging over them, a bad stain lingering over the whole event and bringing up the topic was not going to solve anything.
Mim continued, ‘So no pep talk and no present to send you off with.’ Mim persisted again with this line of questioning and Phoebe became more suspicious. Mim had a way of reading between the lines very well and was always sharp and to the point, but she was never this strange in their conversations together.
‘I don’t know what you’re getting at, Mim. Why would Mum and Dad want to talk to me and give me a present as well? Is there something you’re not telling me?’ Phoebe was getting irritated at Mim’s prying and evasiveness at the same time. Surely her friend should be straight with her, because she sounded the opposite, as if she was trying to tell her something important but couldn’t say it out loud.
‘No, and don’t get all worked up. I just want your school day to run well, that’s all.’ Mim dived for cover by taking a sip from a glass placed conveniently next to her.
Phoebe viewed her suspiciously and thought silence might crack open some straight talking, but Mim never gave in to her tactic. They both knew the chat was going to be short that day; however, Phoebe was looking forward to tomorrow night when the girls would engage in a chatting feast for hours about her new school. Mim had been at her new school for one year already and seemed to love every minute of it. Phoebe wondered if all she said was true sometimes because it sounded too wonderful to be true and she was always evasive over specifics about that also. Mim’s face just lit up when asked about social events they had there with all the horseriding, trips to the beach and even snow events. Phoebe just hoped her school was going to be just as good and frowned at the thought of the uniform her mother had given her. If any school wore such a hideous uniform it was going to be terrible.
‘Will talk to you tomorrow at school. Good luck, girl,’ Mim finished after letting Phoebe sit with what she had said. ‘At school,’ Phoebe sparked up, in a curious tone, so her tactic of silence had at least made Mim say something weird.
Mim paused, holding her hand out to turn off her web-cam. ‘I meant tomorrow night, about your school day. I just got confused a bit,’ Mim hurried her words out, slightly muddled, and gave Phoebe an unusual smile.
Phoebe wanted to make Mim talk, but she knew it was useless and she was too tired to really care now. ‘Cheers, Mim … yeah nerves. I will be better tomorrow when it’s all over …’ Phoebe replied, trying to look cheerful and still thinking about Mim’s bizarre behaviour. Was that a slip-up? It must have been; she was in New York, so how could Phoebe see her at school? She leant forward and after giving a little wink at Mim the screen went blank.
Mim and her had been talking for years now, seven all up, and had never met each other physically and even with plans to do so, it never happened. Phoebe spent a quiet life in her suburb of Melbourne while Mim was a talkative big city girl. Phoebe felt herself lucky to have someone like Mim, to talk things over with, as Mim had been a rock to her during the deaths of her older brothers in a car accident two years earlier. Phoebe always thought of her brothers when she felt out of sorts and wondered what they would be doing today if they were alive. She had survived the accident with her mother and the thought of not having them around always got her up and going because she knew she was lucky to be here. At least she was able to do the things her brothers would never get the chance to do.
‘I’ll wash my hair before dinner,’ she said, looking into a small mirror she had placed conveniently on top of the computer. Yes, freshen up and try on my uniform before bed, just to see, she said to herself, turning her head from side to side. She looked at her tired face and her blue eyes stared back at her in the reflection and she pondered all the events she had racing in her mind. She shivered for the fifth time.
‘You’re so emotionally complex, Bee,’ she said again, trying to liven up the image that reflected her nerves. It didn’t work. Phoebe bared her teeth and checked whether they needed some extra work to whiten them up and realised she would gain more attention if they were glowing and would settle with them the way they were.
‘Bee, dinner’s served, sweetie,’ her mother called out somewhat more subdued than before.
Phoebe shook her hair alive and got up from her desk. She flared her nostrils in anticipation for her mother’s cooking and hummed when she smelt the air of the kitchen as she opened her bedroom door. This seemed a great distraction from writing her details in all her school books and the smell of her mother’s cuisine placed her thoughts into her pillow before she had even eaten. The getting ready for school thing was tiring her now, and her bed was beckoning her.
Her mother was sitting at the table, reading her cookbook, when she entered the kitchen and Phoebe smiled broadly at the sight of her. Her mother returned her smile then turned her attention back to looking at her cookbook, but Phoebe knew her mother was deep in thought. This plump-faced woman in front of her, with short fair hair and lovely hazel eyes, seemed to be always searching for something through a distant stare and staring into a book didn’t fool her. This had always caught her attention and she often wondered what went on behind those eyes. Even when her mother tried to hide her, away thoughts, Phoebe could still tell. Her mother didn’t seem sad, just a long way away, as if she was playing out another life on a far distant planet. She loved her mother in her cooking apron because she looked like a friendly baker about to splash hot buns with butter in front of you to eat. The kitchen was small with a table to sit four with fresh flowers at the centre and that was about it. Phoebe could not get over how her mother cooked what she did in such a tiny workplace because she couldn’t study in here, let alone serve up a meal.
Phoebe sat down and waited for her mum to think out what was on her mind and then rubbed her hand to get her attention.
Her mother looked up and relayed her thoughts about the present, rather than what she was truly thinking about. ‘Your lovely father will be home late tonight, Bee, but he rang to say he is thinking of you and will make you a lovely breakfast tomorrow morning,’ her mother said, coming out of her melancholy mood with every word she spoke.
‘Dad – cook!’ Phoebe nearly coughed in an astonishing tone that she regretted immediately.
Her mother gave her a slightly scolded look. ‘Yes, your father. He wants very much for your first day to be a memorable one.’
‘It will be memorable if I get Delhi belly,’ Phoebe muttered as she took a mouthful of peas from her plate that were neatly presented before her.
‘Don’t be like that, Bee.’ Her mother tilted her head and stared off to no fixed point, smirking. ‘He tries …’ then looking back at Phoebe and smiling broadly, ‘he tries.’ Both of them burst out laughing and then sat dining and chatting about her mother’s first day at school. This was strange because her mum never talked much about her past and for that matter, nor did her father. If Phoebe hadn’t known any better her mum acted a lot like Mim sometimes.
Her mother placed her hand on Phoebe’s and looked at her intensely. Phoebe knew she was about to get the ‘now then, while I have you here talk’.
‘Your father and I …’ her mother started.
‘Oh, Mum,’ Phoebe wailed, trying to think of where to run if she could free herself quickly enough from her mother’s now firm grip on her.
‘No dear, let me finish.’ Her mother squared her chair over to the table’s corner closer and moved her plate to the side. The action of the plate movement said it all; Phoebe was going to get the talk.
Phoebe sighed, ‘All right, let me have it,’ she surrendered knowing there was no other option open to her.
‘Don’t be like that,’ her mother softly scolded her and waited for her to settle. ‘As I was about to say, your father and I want to chat to you about something,’ her mother firmly said, lifting her eyebrows, knowing what was coming.
‘Not Dad as well. It’s going to be embarrassing enough without Dad telling me,’ Phoebe groaned and swooped her head up and closed her eyes to the ceiling.
‘No dear, it’s not that talk. We had that one, remember,’ she smiled, reassuring her.
Phoebe repressed her moaning and turned it to questioning curiosity. ‘I just thought … well, you know … I thought there might be a second round of …’
‘Your father and I know you are a sensible girl concerning everything. We’re very proud of you, so there is no need for that talk again. No, this is something very different. Your father and I were going to sit down with you and talk to you tonight, but he got delayed.’
Phoebe started to go from curiosity to concern now and Mim’s words came back to her. This did not sound like it was going to be a cheerful conversation. ‘Mum … is everything all right?’ Phoebe questioned her with deepening concern that was growing rapidly.
‘Yes, dear, everything is fine. It is a little thing that we need to tell you … talk to you about, and it is better you hear it from the two of us. We meant to tell you about it a few years ago, but with …’ Her mother frowned and bent her head.
‘A few years ago!’ Phoebe squealed slightly and then it dawned on her. Phoebe leant over knowing her two sons had come to her mother’s mind. ‘It’s fine, Mum,’ then Phoebe changed tack immediately, wanting that smile back on her face. ‘What is it, Mum? What is it you need to tell me?’ She tried to sound spirited, but it took some effort. Her mother peered back into her eyes and Phoebe looked at her trying to find something familiar in her expressions, to make her less nervous than she was, but she found nothing that made her feel at ease.
‘Let’s wait till morning,’ her mother said, tapping Phoebe’s hand. Her mother got up and took her plate to the sink. ‘I will tell you everything in the morning, dear,’ then turned to face her daughter again. ‘Could you get up a couple of hours earlier for me sweetie?’ she said calmly.
Phoebe looked at her mother and thought it best to end the talk before her mother got upset. ‘Yeah, Mum,’ Phoebe reassured her then reluctantly added, ‘Am I in trouble?’
There was a moment of silence as Phoebe and her mother stared at each other with blank faces. Then her mother gave a tweak in her returning cheer. Her mother could tell the stress in her daughter’s face needed to be squashed a bit and added, ‘It’s not bad, Bee, it’s just … well, your father and I want to give you something, and we need to explain a few details about it.’
Phoebe became excited, as if a trap had been sprung. ‘Have you been talking to Mim?’ she said with a face of great expectation that indeed some secretive talking was going on behind her back. Her mother looked at her and her eyes darkened slightly and Phoebe didn’t expect that and wanted to take her words back, but a part of her didn’t.
‘You know I don’t go into your room, sweetie.’ She seemed confronted in the most subtle way.
Phoebe sensed her awkwardness and tried to dive for cover, but the best she could muster was a complete surrender on the topic, so she gave her mother all the facts that were on her mind.
‘Oh! I didn’t mean you were in my room, I just thought you might have been on the phone to her. Mim asked me whether you had chatted to me and if I had received anything from you and Dad … that’s all.’ Phoebe tried to sound like it was casual talk between friends, but she knew her mother wasn’t that naive or that casual.
‘Did she now…?’ Her frown deepened, but she still managed a smile. ‘Mim can be a live wire sometimes and should mind her own business.’
‘Oh she just said about getting a talk and …’
‘Let’s just talk tomorrow morning, Bee,’ her mother held her slightly strong tone as she moved around the table, and that was enough for Phoebe to admit defeat on the topic. She got up with her plate and licked the yummy leftovers before she offered it over to her. Her mother grabbed the plate and Phoebe gave her a cheeky look and licked the fork and knives just to make sure she had the job done properly.
Her mum rested the plates gently into the sink and came back over to her. ‘Please do something with your hair tomorrow, sweetie. You have such nice hair,’ her mother pleaded, standing behind her as she ran her hand down her blonde hair.
Phoebe raised her eyes, but her mother did not see her do it. ‘I will … I’ll place it up in a tight bun for you, will I?’ throwing her shoulders from side to side.
‘Oh you cheeky lass,’ her mother laughed and Phoebe’s shoulder got a small slap. Phoebe turned around to face her mother. Her mum only came up to her chest. Even at fourteen Phoebe thought herself a tall girl, and even after two years of doing nothing sporty she had kept her athletic build, or that’s what she hoped, knowing Thursday meant first period athletics. She hated running.
‘You’re going to break many hearts, you are, girlie,’ her mother said in an admiring tone.
Phoebe instantly became vain. ‘I know and they can all wait because I am all yours until I am eighteen or maybe even twenty-one,’ she answered her mother, winking.
‘You little liar. I know you’re a catch for anyone and you are growing out of your skin.’ Her mother’s face seemed tighter and anxious looking. Phoebe knew that face, a worried face that Phoebe hated to see on her mother. It was a look that came before tears. ‘I just want you to be careful at this new school, Bee.’
‘I will, Mum … I promise,’ clasping her mother’s cheeks in her hands and squeezing. ‘You know I will,’ giving her a reassured look while smacking a kiss into her mother’s squashed lips. Phoebe wondered what was going on. It was a ladies college and Mum was acting like she was entering a low security prison. Her thoughts turned back to the uniform. Maybe it was.
‘You had to grow up too quickly, little one.’ Her mother turned away.
‘Mum,’ she grabbed her hand and her mother turned back to face a now sleepy Phoebe, ‘I would give up everything again if I needed to, you know that and so does Dad. I love you Mum.’
‘I know you would and that’s why your father and mother want you back at school. No more looking after us. It’s time to look after you.’ Her mother grew nearer. ‘I love you, we both adore you and love you so much,’ as tears swelled up in her eyes.
‘Oh Mum, come here.’ Phoebe grabbed her mother and hugged her. It started to rain hard on the roof and a gust of wind tapped the window just enough to make the blinds move. Oh great I will have to get to school through a rain storm, Phoebe cursed at the window as she still silently embarrassed her mother.
‘Now off to bed with you,’ her mother clipped, and pulled away bowing her head, mopping up her tears in the tea towel. ‘I’ll finish this off.’
‘Night Mum.’ Phoebe heard her mum sniffing as she walked up the stairs, so she turned halfway and sat down and listened. Phoebe knew her mother’s tears were inevitable and she was best left alone to deal with them quietly. Her mother started to cry and Phoebe looked at the photo of her brothers on the wall. The phone rang suddenly and Phoebe could hear her mother’s name in the receiver as she picked it up and answered.
‘Leda’s residence,’ her mother said.
‘Jillian, it’s Graham, sorry,’ her father said in a cowering voice and Phoebe could not help give a small smile. Dad was always saying sorry even when he hadn’t done anything wrong.
‘You should be here. We have put this off for far too long. She has enough on her plate, and now we have to tell her all this on the morning of her new school day,’ Jillian moaned at him.
Phoebe turned her ear and strained to listen, knowing she was naughty in doing so. Phoebe did not hear her mother speak in that tone to her dad very often and she frowned, hoping she was not going to be the cause of irritability between them. What was it they wanted to tell her, and give her? It was all getting very weird and her mother was tapping her fingers on the wall close to the door, and the sound increased her anxiety Phoebe was starting to feel about tomorrow.
Her mother continued, ‘Anyway, I have placed the ball rolling on the subject, and like always, your beautiful daughter took it all very well. She will talk with us in the morning at five o’clock,’ her mother said sternly. She must have turned away from the door because Phoebe could not hear anymore on the phone. She just had closing pleasantries with her dad and Phoebe could hear the phone click back down on the wall mount. Phoebe turned and crept up the stairs and along the landing and into her room.
What could it be, she thought. What is it Mum and Dad wanted to tell her? Mum and Dad never had anything hidden from her and this was all starting to be very suspicious. Should she call Mim? She was the one that knew something for sure and I will grill her about it until I get the truth, she thought. She looked at the computer, but it was too late now as she turned in a tight circle in the middle of her room. Mum and Dad wanted to give me something, but what did they want to give me? She will know at five o’clock tomorrow morning and the sooner she was asleep the sooner she would get her answers.
Phoebe stopped, looked over to the wardrobe and moved over to it, still thinking, and absentmindedly opened the wardrobe. Phoebe ran her eyes over the uniform which was a simple object so full of meaning of what was to come in the next four years. She didn’t need to try it on; Mum had measured and played with it for days, and her body had the pin pricks still on it from her mother’s workings. She surveyed the room to check her school bag and books and arrange her head, in order, for a sound, worry free sleep. Have I forgotten anything, she puzzled over … no, all ready?
The wind was getting more miserable outside now and she looked out to see the trees playing with it. That’s going to mess up the hair she succumbed to the inevitable. She got into bed and placed the light off. Her mind wandered into the darkness. What did Mum and Dad need to tell me … what did Mum and Dad need to tell me … school … school … Mim should … told … present for me …
Sleep came.
Phoebe was falling. Was she dreaming? She felt nausea come over her sleep, but she was asleep, wasn’t she? She awoke abruptly and her eyes squinted at her clock display. Two-thirty in the morning, it glowed in a red blur. Why was the room spinning? She sat up resting on her hands, waiting to sense something, the next thing? The room shuddered slightly and she flinched. Was it an earthquake? I’m fine, must have been …
The scream she heard next from downstairs pierced the room and moved like a blade into her ears. She jumped in fright then froze and waited till the realisation hit her that it was a scream she had heard. She sprang from her bed and to the door, hardly hitting the floor on her way there. She grabbed the handle, turned and pulled but nothing happened. Then a blinding light came from under the door and she leapt back in fright at its intensity. It dimmed slightly, so she moved back to the door and tried again but nothing happened. It seemed fastened, glued to the frame and was not going to budge. It must be a fire. She had to get to her parents.
‘Mum!’ she shouted as she pulled the doorhandle, frustrated at it thwarting her efforts again. She placed her foot up against the wall and heaved at the handle, but nothing gave an inch to her efforts.
Another scream then a shout and then a loud bang rocked the rooms below. Was that her dad shouting? No, it was her mother, wasn’t it? It did not sound like her dad? Then the room started to shake and the trembling got more intense.
‘Where is it?!’ Phoebe heard someone shout downstairs. She sprang back from the door as if the voice was an enemy, an unknown quantity. That was someone she didn’t know and it didn’t sound like a firefighter, and Phoebe couldn’t smell smoke. She was about to yell when another voice came through the house, a voice she knew.
‘I’m not telling!’ Her father’s loud voice was unmistakable to her and she froze. His tone was one she had never heard before and it came deep within him and it scared Phoebe into wanting to help him. Phoebe was about to call out to her father but thought better of it. If someone was in the house she did not want to court their attention. Dad would handle it, wouldn’t he, and she paused unable to bring herself to do anything.
Someone was in the house?
How could Mum and Dad get away from them? The shaking in her room got more intense as the shouts and loud noises became louder on the other side of the door. Why was the room shaking? Phoebe heard thumping and turned her ear to the door. Someone was now coming up the stairs and she backed away, hoping it was help, but was it help? What was going on?
Phoebe lost her footing and fell to one knee. The shaking was terrible. It has to be an earthquake, wasn’t it, but what did the voice want? The shaking started to develop more as she heard the house strain outside her room. She swayed abruptly, but nothing seemed to move in her room except her. Was this in her mind, she thought and looked at the light flickering through the cracks in the door that were forming shadows across her feet. She turned towards the window and the shaking was now terrible. She started to feel like she was part of the room itself. Her body swayed with the movement as the nausea left her and was replaced instead with immense fear.
BOOM!
Then nothing. Stillness sprang over everything as quick as a flash of lightning. She stood at the window prepared to open it up and scream out for help. She waited – silence.
She peered out the window – silence. The night was clear and the wind and rain had ceased to pester the pre dawn hours and she searched up the street looking for anything that would explain this. Apart from the familiar cars parked in the narrow lane where she lived there was an absolutely deathly silence that polarised the preceding events. Had a bomb gone off and killed everyone because that’s what it felt like.
She needed a way out, not the door, she thought. Mum and Dad were out there though, but what if someone she did not want to see was? Sweat now broke out over her whole body as shock started to overwhelm her. She dry retched with the fear and her desire to do something was overwhelming her. What to do, what to do. Whoever was in the house could come through that door at any second. The window, she thought, that was her only escape. She placed her hands at the bottom and tried to lift it, but nothing happened. She fiddled with the lock and tried again, but the window stuck fast. Again she heaved, but nothing gave as she strained to lift it harder, then the handle of her door rattled. She swung around to look and strained to hear what was happening on the other side. She could only see moving shadows creeping on the floor and the handle moving.
She turned back to the window then saw a man over the other side of the street casually walking his dog. She tapped on the window, but he didn’t look over and continued to stroll away. She then lifted her fist and banged on the window and when the man did not look up she raised her fist to break the glass. She hit it with all the force she could muster, but it felt as hard as concrete. Phoebe wailed silently in pain and crouched over, holding her fist and then the pain disappeared as quickly as it had come.
THUMP, THUMP, THUMP, the door bellowed thickly as someone pounded on it with such force it made her eardrums thud.
‘Let us in, it’s the police!’
Phoebe moved over to the door and went to open it, relieved the situation was under control. Her parents would be safely downstairs waiting for her and she turned and pulled the handle again just to find it stuck fast.
‘It won’t open!’ Phoebe called out.
‘Don’t be silly, Miss, just open the door and let us in,’ the voice said roughly.
‘We’re here now. Your mum and dad are fine, they’re safe,’ came another voice that sounded empty. There was something about that voice that Phoebe did not like and it was a woman’s voice. Phoebe knew she was not a worldly girl, but she knew the things she distrusted and she distrusted that voice.
‘Where are my mum and dad?’ Phoebe demanded back, thinking that was the first thing to ask before demanding IDs from them.
They’re fine … just open the door and you can see them,’ another women’s voice reassured her. Phoebe was relieved to hear a nicer older female voice and it made her more relaxed as it seemed pleasant. She moved towards the door and placed her hand on the doorhandle, but it was just as frustrating as the window.
‘The door won’t open,’ an intrusive voice sounded behind her suddenly. Phoebe jumped around thinking someone was there, but no one was. Did that voice come from outside the door, or was she just confused? She sprang to the window and no one was there.
‘It’s me, Mim, and if you ask for IDs, don’t believe them,’ the voice came from the computer as the screen flicked to life without Phoebe touching anything. She turned from the window in two minds. There was too much information overwhelming her senses and she stayed fixed to the spot waiting for something more for her to understand what was happening.
‘Open the door, Phoebe,’ a harsh voice sounded outside her room.
Phoebe tried to unravel the confusion she was feeling and said, ‘How did you know my name?!’ Phoebe yelled, ignoring Mim.
There was a small pause but long enough for Phoebe to know she was now in trouble, serious trouble. ‘Shut up John,’ came the ladies voice. ‘You’ll just freak her out more.’
Phoebe could have melted away into thin air now as that seemed to be the only hiding place left to her. She felt caged like a lion with no way out and she only wished she could act like a lion if anyone came through that door to do her harm.
Mim yelled out of the monitor, ‘Look Bee, the same thing has happened to me tonight. They want to get into the room. I need you to find a phone before they do. It looks like a …’
‘What do you mean?’ Phoebe swung her attention to the monitor and went to the screen, yelling her response, ‘My mum and dad are in trouble. I need to get to them … You’re in trouble too? Who are they, what do they want? They want me to open the door, but I can’t get it open, and the window’s the same. What’s going on? I need to help Mum and Dad!’ Phoebe yelled at her through the monitor.
‘That’s right, girlie, just open the damn door, and you can see them,’ a harsh voice echoed through the door. Now the noise outside her room was starting to rise more frantically and Phoebe started to be outright terrified, if being more terrified than she was was possible. Wood scraping and glass cracking and breaking was too much for her, but not a thing moved in her room.
‘We’re running out of time, Sandra. Break the door down,’ came a surly voice that made Phoebe’s hair stand on end.
‘We have already tried that, you …’
‘Don’t push me Sandra.’
Phoebe could feel the nastiness in their tones and she swallowed hard, trying to build up some courage, but it fell away from her as fast as she could top it up. ‘It won’t budge. I told you its jammed shut, see,’ the female voice snapped back at its harsh questioner.
Mim was hitting her monitor hard, trying to keep Phoebe’s attention and she managed to get it. ‘Bee, I need to talk to you. Your parents are gone. You need to get a mobile that is in your room. Your parents have placed it there somewhere.’ Mim was glad to have her friend’s focus and held her hands out to her own monitor, wanting to be in the room with Phoebe.
‘What do you mean, those people will be in my room soon and I can’t get out?’ Phoebe swung her attention away from Mim and back to the window and jumped towards it, but again it failed to open when she tried.
Mim hit her screen again. ‘It won’t work, Bee. You need the mobile. It looks exactly like a gold mobile. Listen to me, PLEASE,’ Mim pleaded with her and Phoebe came back over, tripping in her panic as her scared eyes finally found the webcam her friend was peering through.
‘My mum and …’ she cried and looked around as the intruders banged hard on the door again and Phoebe recoiled in fright when a large bang warped the door. She turned again to Mim and she screamed, ‘What do they want?!’
‘Bee, just settle down,’ Mim pleaded with her.
Phoebe was shaking, half listening as she knelt down wanting this all to end. The banging and scraping at her door intensified as Phoebe looked around again as smoke started to waft in from under the door.
‘What’s happening to me, Mim?’ Phoebe started to uncontrollably cry. Her fear was boiling inside her now, trapped in the room waiting for the unwanted guests to gain entry. ‘What do they want, Mim?’ Phoebe held the screen like she was trying to grab her shoulders and get the truth out of her.
‘Stay calm. You have some time, trust me, you have time!’ Mim shouted at her, then placed her hands out as if to calm her. ‘You-need-to-get-the-phone, and do what I tell you to do, Bee. It is in the room somewhere. Please trust me.’
‘There’s nothing here, Mim. I would have seen it. It would be in Mum and Dad’s room,’ Phoebe pleaded for some sanity out of her friend.
‘If it was, you would be taken by now. Now go, Bee … go!’
Mim shouted at her.
Phoebe tried to unscramble her mind, ‘Taken … where … what … I am going to be kidnapped!’ Phoebe could not handle the information overload. ‘Mim, what do you know? What is happening?’ Phoebe begged Mim to tell her but knew she was wasting her own time in doing so.
‘Bee, I haven’t got time to explain … Go … go and find it!’ Mim shrilled from the monitor. Phoebe was startled at Mim’s loud voice and it managed to snap her into action. She started to scan the room. She could ring someone – yes, that’s it. Where would the object be?
She leapt to the wardrobe just as a loud crack jolted the door. She gasped at the noise, but even as she jolted with every bang and thump she kept scouring through her clothes, throwing everything across the room. She scrambled into another built-in wardrobe and started throwing shoe boxes in all directions.
BANG!
Another jolt rocked the wall, and this time it was the loudest and strongest as the room shuddered and felt like it cracked. They were trying to smash in through the wall now, but Phoebe had one purpose on her mind and that was finding that phone. It was a race now. She wanted the phone and they wanted entry and she was determined to win the contest.
‘This is mad!’ cried a voice outside the door. ‘Just shear it off the hinges at any cost. I don’t care if you lose your hands doing it. Get it off! You’re all damn useless!’ cried the awful man’s voice that was turning psychopathic in his tirade of the others.
‘Yes, it’s mad!’ Phoebe shouted out. ‘Yes, it’s mad,’ she then muttered to herself as she smashed her way through her belongings that were neatly stacked on the top shelves.
Phoebe managed to get to a box of belts, opened it and threw the empty container across the room behind her when she found it useless to her hunt. One of the box lids hit a photo frame and it toppled to the floor with a distinctive thump that sounded like a brick hitting the floor. She spun around to see the photo of her brothers laying there with a gold object poking out from underneath one of its corners.
‘Bingo!’ she screamed to herself.
Phoebe went down on all fours and scrambled across the floor where she moved the photo to reveal a gold object that looked like nothing she had seen before. She seized it and Phoebe nearly fell forward from the weight of it. It was incredibly heavy and she had no time to think before a light echo shuddered through the room and she nearly dropped it, if she could. Her hand tightened around it and tingled as the feeling moved up her arm and she got goose pimples through her body. She felt calmer now and less afraid as a determination and purpose flowed through her. She felt clearer and stronger in the head, tougher and more confident with the situation she was up against. Was this her way out of here?
She stumbled to her feet and moved to her desk. ‘Got it, Mim. I’ll ring the police,’ Phoebe stated as she began to press buttons on the mobile like a manic monkey using an ATM.
Mim called to her, ‘No! Bee, the police won’t help you, I need you to …’
‘We have your parents, you little brat. Let us in now or we’re coming in,’ came a voice over the noise outside her room.
‘Ignore them, Bee. They can’t get in for a while … Bee, do you trust me?’ Mim was trying to keep Phoebe focused. ‘You need to get to your school and then to your locker.’
‘My school … locker … what are you …’
‘I’m telling you the facts, Bee. You need to get to your school and the locker,’ Mim again demanded Phoebe to listen to her.
‘How can I get out of here? I’m five storeys up!’ Phoebe cried out, still blindly pressing buttons on the gold phone in her hysteria, but nothing would happen. The menu on the screen was awkward to manage and she was at a loss to find anything that resembled what she was use to in dealing with mobiles or what would help her in dialling out.
‘I know you are, but the phone you have will open the window. Just do what I tell you to do. Go into the applications window, scroll down through the menu and find “bedroom” then “window”, press the green button and it will open.
Phoebe pressed away as Mim held her hands together, knowing she had Phoebe doing what she was telling her to do.
Suddenly Phoebe felt her heels lift off the ground, but she wasn’t doing anything. Her balance was maintained and she started to feel a rush of warm blood through her whole body. Then it happened. If she hadn’t seen it she would not have believed it possible. She was glowing a faint blue. The crashing sounds of the intruders vanished and a peace came over her as her heels moved down again and rested on the floor. The blue faded and the noise rushed back into her ears. She looked down at the mobile. What was this thing she had in her hand? She wanted to throw it away, but there was something deep within it that wanted to stay attached to her, so she held it tight. She composed herself and viewed the phone’s screen with a calmness she had never felt in her entire life.
Another bang erupted outside the door and Phoebe didn’t flinch. Her state of mind was clear, at the moment, and she didn’t question herself or the phone. She raised the mobile to the window and was about to press the green button when the window sprang open so quickly she jumped back.
‘It’s open,’ Phoebe gave a cry of relief. She flew to the window and was about to yell out into the street when something stopped her. Her mum and dad wanted her to have this phone and Mim had known all about it. How could she not listen to her now?
‘Get to the street. She’s going out the window,’ a voice came from the landing outside her room, a calmer more sinister tone.
‘Yes, Kane,’ answered someone.
Phoebe went to the computer again to seek more directions from her friend in a less frantic tone. ‘What do I do now?’
‘I need you to jump out the window, Bee, and get to your new school, get to your locker and open it. The key is on the side,’ Mim calmly finished as if she told someone every day to just throw themselves out a window.
Phoebe stepped back from the computer. Her friend was telling her to jump from the window, a window five storeys from the ground. Was this some kind of sick joke that she was playing on her? She had known Mim for years. Why would she tell her to do this? It was crazy to do what she asked of her … crazy. The Internet was full of weirdos. Had she been one of those ignorant, naive teenagers that had been swooped up by a crazed maniac, but Mim was her only friend and she leant forward again as another crack scraped across the wall.
‘You want me to jump from the window?’ Phoebe said, bewildered as her face filled with tears that rolled down her cheeks. She started to drill her eyes into the computer screen, searching for meaning in anything she had just heard.
CRACK, TEAR! The door split and the sound of wood breaking permeated the room and splinters scattered across the floor. Phoebe covered her face with her hand as she got showered with debris and smoke poured in.
‘Bee, listen to me. The application has been broken. Your parents have protected you for years now, and from now on you need to trust me. I love you, Bee, you know that,’ Mim pleaded her case and Phoebe felt her words as being true, but she could not do what she asked of her.
The door shuddered and Phoebe’s knees buckled and the phone in her hand sank deeper into her flesh as she gripped it more tightly, or was it the phone grasping onto her? A hand came through the crack in the door and it had a stick of yellow light held within its grasp.
‘She is weak like her brother,’ a voice loudly mumbled in frustration and Phoebe felt a cold chill hit her, and a man cried out at being hit by one of his colleagues outside the room with him.
‘Bee, get out of the window … NOW, and don’t let go of that phone. Your mother and father want you to live, Bee, and you are going to get here and we can help you.’ Mim was outright beside herself now. She was frightened for her safety and Phoebe was starting to see her point. Phoebe’s mind burned with the words: ‘she is weak like her brother’.
The last words Phoebe could hear from Mim as she moved towards the window were: ‘Don’t let them catch you. They will kill you if they need to’.
Phoebe placed her hands on the sill and put her leg out the window and froze. The people at the door were nearly through, so she yelled out, up the street, but there was no one around to listen. She held up the golden object and it felt warm in her hands. This is what Mum and Dad wanted me to have. This is what my Mum and Dad wanted to give me, my parents’ gift to me. If she didn’t trust anyone she trusted her parents, and for all their distance apart, she trusted Mim.
She moved out the window, sitting on the ledge a few centimetres between her and certain death. Surely there was a point to this as she stared down at the pavement that seemed so very far below her. The fire brigade would be here any minute and they will rescue me, she hoped.
Then it happened. It happened slowly from that point on in front of Phoebe’s eyes. Her mind slowed and she became mellow as the fear vanished from her, but there was something rushing through her the opposite way to what she was feeling. She felt like she had stepped into another world, a world she controlled fully.
Phoebe turned to see the door torn apart and a swarm of black shadows moving at speed across her bedroom floor towards her. The room buckled upon them as if trying to hinder their advance towards her. Out of sheer fright she swung herself around so that now she was perched like a girl about to set off doing backstroke in a pool.
Then she saw their faces.
It was by far the most frightening thing that was equal to the predicament of hanging in that position. Their faces were as cold as anything she had ever seen, lifeless and mean. She let go, one hand at first and then, waiting for the last millisecond, she let go of the other one. She felt the last touch of her toe leave the building, her home. Was this the last time she would ever feel it? Phoebe felt her body in the void of nothingness and as she fell back, a hand extended from the window with incredible speed, searching for her. Then she thought she saw something, something that shocked her. Something she felt she had to move away from because it terrified her. She thought she saw her brother’s face at the corner beyond the window, a glimpse through the chaos of figures descending upon her. In an instant her mind changed and wanted to reach for him and she stretched out her arm to try to rescue herself. From the corner of her eye, without feeling it, her hand with the mobile came across and hit her other hand out of the searching reach of her would-be rescuer. She fell, turning in midair to see the street below. How could she be so stupid?! she screamed to herself silently. Her body rolled over on its side and she saw the bottom floor of the apartment building passing by her. For a moment she thought time itself was slowing down, but she could see her world running quickly past her eyes. Phoebe, she said to herself.
LOOKING FOR NEW PUBLISHER
With my first book (self published) up and running throughout Australia, I’m now looking for a publisher for my second book. I’m not affiliated with any company or person associated with producing the first novel. I have the book in libraries throughout Australia and Asia and the reviews are humbling in giving the novel the thumbs up. Cheers Matt
Tuesday, January 17, 2012
Phoebe Leda and the Amulet of Souls
Last night at a time just after midnight I finished the second book titled "Phoebe Leda and the Amulet of Souls" I am now editing the third book titled "Phoebe Leda and the Curse of the Iron Rose" Cheers Matt
