New Reality: Truth (14 page)

Speeding up, he got close to the top of the hill, the whir of the Bot's mini helicopter blade spurring him on. Looking around, he saw a claw extend from the bottom of the Bot and hook around the headset. It then faced Jake.

"Fuck!"

Hearing the whine of the Bot's Gatling guns starting up, Jake turned and ran.

Chips of bricks, concrete and glass sprayed his back as the ground received a peppering of bullets. Each piece stung like an ant bite. Once he reached the summit of the hill, an explosion of searing pain smashed into the triceps on his left arm. Spinning like a top, he saw a splash of blood punched into the air. Then he saw the Bot. The ends of the Gatling gun's barrels were red-hot circles.

Maintaining his momentum, he fell backwards over the brow of the hill.

###

When Jake's eyes flashed open, he saw darkness above him. With his heart pounding and his hand stinging, he groaned. How many times would he have to dream about killing Tom's wife?

Staying still, his hair whipping his forehead, Jake listened to see if he could hear anything over the loud wind.

As Jake's eyes adjusted to the night, he could just make out the hazy red glow coming from the letters on the Rixon Tower. It was never truly dark anymore. The illuminated phallus reminded him exactly who was running this world. Sitting up slowly, his hand feeling like it was leaking poison into his veins, he looked over at his friend.

Sat there, cradling his knees, Tom had his head bowed and was rocking on the spot. Tom had promised him one week. A day had passed, and all they'd found was more problems. When the memory of the bleeding eyes came to Jake's mind, he shuddered. All thought of sleep vanished.

Once he was upright, his legs aching, his hand still throbbing, Jake walked over to his friend.

Sat hunched like an old vulture, Tom looked up and Jake nodded at him.

Squinting against the grit, Tom nodded back. "Are you okay?"

Shrugging, Jake sat down so close to his friend that their shoulders were touching. Staring into the night, he said, "Have you slept at all?"

Tom shivered and shook his head. "No."

Not knowing what to say, Jake just remained silent.

"Bad dream?" Tom asked.

Nodding, Jake stared at the faint glow of the Rixon Tower.

"About the things following us?"

Jake shook his head.

"Thalia?"

Looking across at Tom's grey eyes, Jake nodded again. "Yep."

"Me too," Tom sighed. "I dream about her every night. It's like life's playing a cruel trick on me. Every time I go to sleep, I'm plagued with the memory of killing my wife. Whenever I'm awake, it's the memory of those things."

Not knowing if he wanted an answer, Jake swallowed a dusty gulp of air and looked up at the tower again. "Have you heard anything tonight?"

With a half-smile on his face, Tom raised an eyebrow. "Other than you whimpering like a bitch in your sleep?"

Lifting his middle finger at him, Jake scoffed, "Fuck you!"

Tom's smile fell from his face and he stared into the distance.

Tom eventually broke the silence. "I bet the arseholes in the tower are having a good laugh at our expense. It must be entertaining for them if nothing else."

Before Jake could respond, Tom sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I can't believe we left them in the first place. What kind of a husband and father was I to leave my wife and son alone in this world?"

"Don't you dare say that, Tom. You were trying to find a way to get their headsets off."

Grinding his Jaw, Tom's voice cracked. "I left them on their own for over a year. What kind of a man leaves his wife and kid lying in shit for a year?"

"You left them when the city was fine, when it'd been destroyed, it was impossible to find anything anymore. There were no landmarks left. It was like trying to find an ant in the Sahara."

"To make things worse, we returned with nothing. No way of removing the headsets. No way of saving them. It was a waste of time, Jake. It was a year-long wild goose chase that ended with the death of my wife."

When Jake rubbed his friend's back, he felt every vertebra trough his thick layers. Taking a gritty gulp, Jake tasted dried mud. "We tried our best."

"We killed her, Jake."

Throwing his left arm over Tom's shoulder, Jake pulled his friend close. "Come on, man, don't do this to yourself."

The deep red glow from the Rixon Tower caught the shiny trails on Tom's cheeks. Gulping, his large Adam's apple dipping on his long neck, Tom lifted his right arm across his chest and held Jake's left hand.

Feeling the calloused grip of his friend's long fingers, Jake pulled him in tight and held him as he cried for his dead wife.

***

Grinding her teeth, she watched the pair. When was Jake going to accept that Tom didn't want to be on this planet anymore? If he got that through his thick head, then maybe he'd have a chance. She didn't want to kill Jake, but he wasn't giving her much choice at the moment.

As she watched the pair fall asleep, Jake holding Tom tightly, she sighed. A week wasn't long when she thought about how long she'd been following the pair, but the final sprint was always the hardest. Maybe she should just do something about it now. They were sleeping after all.

Sitting up straight, she stretched the aches from her body and took a deep breath.

Action needed to be taken. She was bored of waiting.

Chapter Twenty-Four

The second Jake woke up, his mind went to the deep throb in his palm. It was a constant that could only be avoided with sleep. Looking across at Tom, who was already awake, he lifted his bandaged hand. "Do you think it'll get any worse?"

Looking away, Tom squinted into the wind.

"Tom? Do you--"

"I heard you, Jake." Scratching his beard, Tom shook his head. "I was choosing not to answer."

Jake's heart fluttered. "You think it's that bad?"

When Tom looked at him, his grey
eyes pinched ever so slightly.

Taking a deep breath, Jake exhaled hard. "How long do you think I've got before it's life-threatening?"

Tom didn't reply.

Looking at his hand for a moment longer, Jake attempted to make a fist and winced. After resting it on his knee, he looked up at the sky. It had changed from black to grey--night to day. When he turned to Tom again, the wind blew into his face, and grit pattered the lenses of his glasses. "Have you been awake long?"

Shrugging, Tom looked at the floor. "Not really. Half an hour maybe."

Silence surrounded the pair again as Jake watched Tom stare at the fuzzy glow of the Rixon Tower in the distance.

Kicking a stone in front of him, Tom sighed. "I'm not sure I can do a week, Jake."

A pain ran through Jake's chest, and his voice turned whiny. "Come on, Tom, you promised me."

"I know I did. But I just don't know if I can do this anymore."

Jake's anger passed when he looked at Tom's exhausted face and drawn features. Heavy bags hung beneath his eyes, and his breathing was shallow. He was done.

Shaking his head, Jake said, "No."

Raising an eyebrow, Tom looked up. "No?"

Pushing up from the floor with his good hand, Jake got to his feet and held his left hand out. "I'm not letting you give up, Tom."

The tall man didn't move.

"Don't give me that puppy-dog stare. Get up, now! You owe me the week you promised me. You owe Rory the week you promised me."

Tom's face buckled before he took Jake's offered hand and got to his feet. "Why do you use Rory to keep me going?"

Losing his patience, Jake raised his voice. "Because that's why we're out here, isn't it? That's why we've been walking in fucking circles for the past few years."

"Don't shout at me."

"Stop being a prick then, Tom."

Drawing a sharp intake of breath, Tom's brow furrowed.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to call you that." Swallowing a painful gulp, the taste of dust nestling in his parched throat, Jake looked at the floor. "It's just... I feel like I've put my plans on hold for the past few years, and now you want to give up? I could have been looking for signs of the beautiful planet we lived on years ago, but I stayed with you in Birmingham to look for your wife and son."

When Tom didn't reply, Jake continued, "I want the past few years to have counted for something."

With a slumped frame, Tom looked at his friend. "Sometimes the wisdom is in knowing when to quit."

Balling his left fist, Jake's tense arm shook. When Tom remained limp and dejected, Jake grabbed him. "You owe me six more days."

Tom suddenly froze as he stared past Jake. What little color he had in his face drained from it instantly. Even with the rag on, Jake saw his jaw working as if he were trying to speak.

"What is it, Tom?"

While rubbing his forehead, Tom spun on the spot and looked at the floor around them.

Jake mimicked Tom's spinning until they faced each other again. Staring into Tom's wide eyes, Jake said, "What does it mean?"

When Tom didn't reply, Jake looked around again. At first, all he saw was a chaotic mess of raised lines of rubble. They ran a crisscross pattern all about them like the random burrowing of some insane creature. Looking from one line to the next, Jake's head flicked from side to side.

After a moment longer of scanning the ground, the snapshots of disorder suddenly came together and his skin turned to gooseflesh. Double-checking to make sure he wasn't imagining it, he started to shake.

They were in the centre of a five-pointed star within a circle. The things must have done it while they slept. Swallowing a dry gulp, his world spiraling, Jake continued to look at the perfectly formed shape. He spoke from the side of his mouth in a whisper. "Can you see what it is, Tom?"

When there was no reply, Jake looked across at his pale friend. "Can you see what it is, Tom?"

Nodding, the tall man said, "Yep."

"What the fuck is it?"

Frowning, Tom scratched his temple with a shaking hand. "A pentagram."

"A pentagram?"

Tom's eyes were glazed as if he'd retreated into his mind. "It's a spiritual symbol."

Not sure he wanted the answer, Jake lifted a shrug. "A good one?"

"Depends."

"On what?"

"On whether it's pointing up or down. Down is for the devil."

Just the thought of the question turned Jake's blood cold. "And which way is it pointing?"

Nodding at the symbols on either side of them, Jake suddenly saw what they were when Tom gulped. "Well, by looking at those pitch forks, I'd say it was pointing down."

Before Jake could reply, Tom had set off, avoiding the lines of rubble like he was running an army assault course.

Looking around, Jake bounced on the balls of his feet and then followed his friend. Picking an equally cautious path through the symbol, he lifted his legs high as if something were nipping at his heels.

***

It didn't matter how far or fast they ran away. They weren't getting away.

Chapter Twenty-Five

The pair had been walking all day, and all Jake could think about was the pentagram. When Tom moved over to a pile of rubble, Jake stopped. "What is it?"

As Tom pulled lumps of concrete and debris away, Jake walked over to stand next to him. With his damaged hand, he didn't try to help.

The more hardcore Tom pulled away, the quicker he started clearing a hole. Then Jake saw it--a small, round piece of blue plastic. When Tom grabbed it, it crackled as he wiggled it free.

Looking at Tom's prize, Jake swallowed an arid gulp. "Water."

Breaking the seal on the large bottle, Tom handed it to Jake first.

Lifting it up to what little light there was in the sky, the clear liquid seemingly uncontaminated, Jake looked back at his friend. "You're letting me have it first? Shouldn't you go first? You found it."

"Stop being soft, Jake. Just take a bloody sip."

When Jake lifted the bottle to his lips, the cool liquid filled his mouth. Although his body craved the quench of the water, he took a small taste and passed it back. "Slow and steady so we don't throw it up."

Watching his friend drink, phlegm sticking in his throat, Jake couldn't take the bottle back quickly enough when Tom returned it.

After they were done, the water swilling in Jake's guts, he sat down on a nearby rock and looked at his hand. "You didn't answer me before, Tom."

"About what?"

"How long have I got before my hand turns septic? Seriously, how long would you give it?"

"I don't know, Jake. Maybe your body will fight against the infection and you'll be all right."

"You don't sound sure."

"I'm not. I just don't know. I'm sorry."

Looking at the dirty bandages wrapping his hands, Jake sighed.

With the conversation dying, Jake sat on his rock and looked at what little he could see around him. When his eyes caught some movement on the brow of a small ridge, his heart jumped. Staring at it for a moment longer, he saw that his eyes weren't deceiving him. The ground was lifting up slowly as if something was crawling beneath it.

Standing up, Jake stretched to the sky, trying to be as casual as possible. "Okay, I'm ready to set off again."

Frowning up at him, Tom remained seated, his long body folded over in a slump. "I thought you wanted a rest?"

"I do. I did. I'm fine now. That water's worked wonders."

When Tom looked down at the floor, Jake glanced over at the raising rubble again. It was still lifting, slowly crawling towards them. "Come on, man. If we've only got a few days left together, we may as well cover as much ground as possible."

Tutting, Tom stood up with a long groan. The heavy wind rocked the tall man where he stood. "You're so bloody contrary, Jake."

Raising his eyebrows, Jake simply shrugged. "Come on, let's go."

Moving as if every joint ached, Tom took Jake's lead and followed him directly away from the thing. With the memory of the bloody eyes sat in his mind, Jake powered up the next hill and waited at the top for his friend.

Arriving a minute or so later, red-faced from the effort, Tom shook his head and continued down the other side.