Where Britain once lay, Brigandia had risen from the ashes. Only France had a reasonable populace, though between them there was less than half a million. Elsewhere, man had been scoured from the planet.
Dark clouds rolling overhead was a permanent feature of this sodden Earth. The air was continuously rent by flashes of lightning and rolling thunder.

To the west lay what Charly called Foxley Lake. Its deep, dark waters hiding an obliterated past.

To the east of that grim body of water stood the great castle. Its battlements and towering walls heavily guarded by bowmen. Behind the central courtyard stood the king’s chamber. A square room whose walls were covered by lovely tapestries, and whose floor was dominated by a thick wooden table. At the left wall stood the royal throne where the king usually sat.

Atop a flight of rickety stairs and through the first wooden door lay the apartment of Grant and Charly. When indoors of course, Grant would sit upon the leather sofa, stroking his long grey beard and smoothing down his trademark multicoloured poncho.

Charly was sitting at the small table gazing at the sapphire ring.

“You can never return mate. As you said yourself, it would mean instant death. Forget Foxley eh?”

“I suppose you are right Grant. I’ll put the ruddy thing in the drawer.”

A loud knock broke the grim atmosphere and Grant said, “Enter.”

The king entered their chamber, his blue eyes flashing. His full cheeks bulged as the suit of armour clanked away. At his hip hung his jewelled sword belt that was always ready for action.

He levelled the golden crown and smiled.

“I must thank you for saving my life Charly. You have done me a great service.”

“No thanks necessary sir. We can never get antibiotics again though. That world has gone forever.”

The king walked to the table and placed a crystal upon the desk.
Charly gazed at the beautiful lattice as Grant peeked.

“Such beauty in such a small object,” the king said.

“It is indeed sir,” Charly said. “You use these for decoration?”

“For trade too.”

As Charly picked it up, he detected an inner glitter that filled him with absolute dread. He dropped it again and shivered.

“What’s up mate?” Grant asked.

“The damn thing reminds me of that Martian rock. The one I told you about.”

“We certainly don’t want zombies chasing us around here,” Grant said.

“One experience like that is enough for me,” Charly muttered.

He paused for a moment.

“Where did you get it sir?”

King Henry the Ninth smiled.

“To the south. They are embedded in the rocks.”

Charly rubbed his hair, an action that Grant instantly recognised.

“What are you scheming now?”

Charly smiled.

“Fancy a little mining?”

As the king was leaving Charly stood and said, “Do you still have that sapphire ring sire?”

“Of course.”

“Then hide it away. With my world gone, using it would end in tragedy.”

The king understood the warning and returned to his chamber.

“We will need hammers and chisels,” Grant said joining his friend.

“We can get those from the king’s carpenter. We better take a horse though.”

“I was hoping you would say that. Trekking through that wretched rain is no fun you know.”

Charly grinned.

“At least the woollies keep us dry.”

Once they had donned hats and thick woollen smocks, they set off south towards the waiting crystals and unexpected danger.

They trekked south across the rocky terrain, with the rain a constant companion. After three or four miles of this, Grant had every reason to complain.

“I sometimes wish this wretched storm would wind down you know.”

“The planet is still adjusting itself. It’ll stop when it wants too.”

“How much further?”

“Not far now mate. The king was quite specific. To the left of skull peak.”

As Grant glanced around, he pointed.

“There it is.”

Charly looked at was astonished to see the skull shaped mountain standing firm against the elements.

“I see where the name comes from,” he muttered. “Time to dismount.”

They climbed down and tied the animal to a vacant rock before marching on. After a few steps, the glittering crystal rocks came into view.

As Charly knelt, his friend removed the hammer and chisel from the saddlebag.

“Which one do you want?”

Charly rubbed his chin. Watching the rather ominous internal glow.

“The largest will do mate. These must be related to that Martian rock you know. It’s not a natural formation you see. Just too much of it.”

Grant wandered around until he yelled.

“Found one.”

Charly joined him and saw a fist sized crystal staring back.

“I’ll chip it out mate. You just stand back and watch.”

Grant took the advice as his friend started the delicate extraction. Just as it came free, the ground began shaking violently. Charly grabbed the crystal and jumped back.

“Oh please not again!”

As they watched, a crystal began pushing its way from beneath the surface. The lattices glinting in the rain as it grew higher and higher.

“I think we should leave,” Grant suggested. “Don’t you?”

Charly nodded.

“I’m not sticking around to find out. Come on!”

They reached the waiting horse as the crystal reached a height of fifty feet, before climbing on. As Charly glanced back, the alien monstrosity broke free and came after them.

“Head straight for the castle,” Charly said. “We need to alert the king to this.”

Grant dug his heels and the horse broke into a gallop, leaving the strange threat far behind.

The gate rolled up as they arrived at full pelt. Within the courtyard now, they jumped off and bolted into the king’s chamber.

“Sorry sire,” Charly panted. “You must alert the bowmen right now.”

“Whatever for?”

“What about an angry crystal sire,” Grant said gloomily.

“Issue the order Charly and give them a hand. Your bow skills are pretty good.”

Charly smiled and bowed, before dashing out once more.
As the strange enemy appeared, the castle walls and towers were fairly bristling with cross bows.

“Don’t fire until I give the order,” Charly said.

“What chances do you think we have?”

“If it breaks in Grant, no chance at all. We just have to hope that
the iron tips of the bolts are strong enough to shatter it.”

“Amen to that mate.”

The enemy was a little smarter than that though. It approached just out of range and stopped.

“Seems that it senses danger,” Charly quipped.

“As long as it stays put, it might just get bored enough to plod home again.”

Charly glanced over.

“You know Grant, that’s not a bad idea.”

Grant was naturally puzzled by the remark until Charly shouted, “Why not return to Mars where you belong?”

There was no response. The crystal simply waited.

“It’s probably thinking that over,” Grant suggested hopefully.

“I wonder what its next move is going to be?” Charly whispered.

“Sing us a lullaby?”

Charly smiled at the joke.

The crystal bore into the hard ground and slowly began to expand. As the garrison watched in amazement, a crystal wall closed around them.

“That’s a typical siege tactic,” Charly commented.

“How did it do that?” Grant asked.

“It must have slewed crystal particles from its body I suppose. At least the wall is only four feet high.”

“Is that important?” Grant asked.

“It tells us one thing. Our enemy has limited resources. We can use that against it.”

Grant suddenly cheered up.

“You are far too clever you know.”

Charly simply winked and mulled the problem over.

“We could use a cannon,” Grant suggested.

“It may have escaped your notice but they don’t have one. No gunpowder either for that matter. This will take some stealth on our
part.”

He scanned the crystal wall carefully, noting the line of the lattice. When it reached the corners, it changed abruptly.

Charly pointed and said, “Bowmen fire!”

A volley of bolts streaked out toward the intended target and a loud cheer went up as the corner shattered.

“Got you.”

The wall remained, standing though the breach was not repaired.

“Round one to us I think,” Grant muttered.

A sudden yell from the far wall caused Charly to dash over. When he arrived, he clearly saw something burrowing towards them. “

“Shoot the ruddy thing.”

Bolts struck the crystal miner and the advance stopped abruptly.

“If it undermines the walls we are finished.”

“What now sir?” a bowman asked.

“If it's using that tactic we must cut it down to size. Take out the corners.”

The bolts streaked out, shattering the corner posts of the siege at once. As cheers went up, the crystal drew the wall into itself.

As Charly smiled he said, “Now we go on the offensive.”

He called into the courtyard for the knights to be assembled. A Grant came over, Charly prepared to join them.

“You are not going down there. You have no armour.”

Charly smiled.

“I’ll get some made for me later. You worry too much.”

“That’s your ruddy fault!”

Two lines of knights stood before him. Each man glittering in body armour. Each armed with the killer sword.

Charly addressed them boldly.

“What we are facing is a strange but weak enemy. We proved that by lifting the siege. When we go out there, we shall break into two columns. On my command, each column in turn will charge and slash at that monstrosity.”

He climbed upon his steed and raising his sword, led the men outside. As they broke into two, Charly led the left flank. He quickly noted the crystal turning to face him.

“It’s now or never I suppose.”

In a loud voice he yelled, “Charge!”

Leading the gallop, Charly lashed out at the creature. As he passed, each man in turn did likewise. Turning sharply now, he looked at the crystal.

“The damn thing’s cracked. Column two go!”

The second column struck without mercy, and as they slashed at the helpless enemy, the edifice began to rapidly crumble.

By the time the last man struck, the fatal wound had been inflicted. Everyone cheered as it crumbled onto the hard earth.

As the knights rode back inside, Charly stopped at the battlements and yelled up.

“Tell the king to find something else to trade with. That crystal bed is strictly off limits.”

“Where are you off to?” Grant yelled back.

“To return that large crystal of course. I’ll be back within the hour.”

As Grant watched him gallop off he muttered, “Let’s hope so.”

The dense rock had been created fourteen billion years earlier, in what has been called the Big Bang. As it drifted from that primordial blast, it did not realise just how unique it was.

Made entirely from antimatter, this rock was safe. Safe only as long as matter did not strike it. If such a thing happened, its entire mass would be converted into energy.

Seventy years before today, this juggernaut entered the solar system. Safely swinging past Pluto and towards the inner ring of planets. Today, it had past the orbit of Mars and was gently curving towards the Earth Moon system.

A thousand years after this, two very close friends sat at the shore of a dark, deep lake. As the permanent rain lashed down, they were warm and snug within their woollies. The dark clouds raced overhead as Charly cast out his line.

“Make you think Grant eh? Beneath these waters, lies the town of Foxley.”

Grant sat watching the ripples as rain hammered the surface.

“Smart of you to get the king’s carpenter to make the rods mate.”

“What would life be without fishing?”

“We won’t catch anything you know,” Grant said.

“That’s not the point Grant. It’s so relaxing.”

The loud clip clop of hooves made them turn and their faces fell.

“What’s the king’s messenger doing here?” Grant asked.

“We shall soon find out mate.”

The messenger was clad as always in armour and after dismounting, clambered toward them.

“What’s up?” Grant asked.

“The king has fallen ill. We fear that he may indeed die.”

Charly glanced at his friend.

“What is wrong with him?” he asked.

“A sudden fever has come on.”

Charly thought quickly.

“He must need antibiotics then.”

Grant knew what that meant. Looking over the lake, he said casually, “That means Foxley.”

Charly stood and nodded.

“I’ll go back and get them mate. You stay and look after Christine for me.”

“Just take ruddy care,” Grant said. “That cat loves you.”

Charly smiled and fumbled inside his pocket for the sapphire ring.
Without hesitation, he slipped it on and pointed. As the vertical whirlpool appeared, he calmly stepped through.

He found himself looking at a panda car, apparently parked at the town’s museum. As he approached carefully, he recognised the officers.

”Hello DI Holland, Sergeant Andrew.”

The officers glanced at each other.

“Hello Charly,” the DI said grimly.

“That’s nice. I only just popped back a thousand years you know.”

“Your last appearance brought the dragon remember?” the DI reminded him.

“I promise that there shall be no dragons today.”

He noted the museum sign.

“Martian rock eh? That could be interesting.”

“Why are you back Charly?” the DI asked.

“To collect antibiotics for our ailing king. Damn shop won’t open till morning.”

“Why not stay at Peters?” the sergeant asked.

Charly shook his head.

“If you don’t mind I’ll just sleep in your car.”

The DI glanced at Andrew.

“Sorry mate but the leave is cancelled. With him running around I daren’t risk it.”

The sergeant’s face fell but he understood why.

The officers waited as he climbed into the back, while overhead the crescent moon shone down upon the sleeping town.

Charly woke with a start at nine that morning. Yawning loudly he climbed out and stared at the police car park.

“I might just check that exhibition before leaving. Must get back though, the king depends upon it.”

When he reached Poplar Street, he saw that the museum was now open and walked inside. Groups of people were gazing in wonder at the rock from Mars.

He joined them too of course. The rock was fairly on the small size after plunging into the Arctic tundra thirty thousand years earlier.
There was something glittery about it though.

“I wonder what is causing that?”

He scratched his head before trotting towards the door.

“Now where is the pharmacy?”

As he crossed the road, the museum’s patrons had also noticed the glitter. They wondered what it was too, even as the soft glow began.
After a few minutes, the rock had quite literally lit up entirely.
Charly spotted the pharmacy, and soon bought the life saving drug for his ailing monarch. As he stepped out again, a pulse of intense light flashed for a second from the windows of the museum.

“What the hell was that?”

He ran across the road and when he entered the building, he stopped dead. Where there had been people, there was now ash.

“Oh hell!”

He gazed upon the innocent looking rock and ran for the nearest phone.

When the DI arrived of course, he was none too pleased.

“See what happens Charly when you turn up. More deaths. What the hell caused it?”

“I clearly saw an intense burst of light coming from this place. Almost certainly caused by this piece of rock.”

The officers looked at it.

“It’s undamaged though,” Peters pointed out.

“I swear to you that can be the only cause of this. Take my advice and get rid of it now.”

The officers shook their disbelieving heads as the radio crackled.
The sergeant took the call and listened intently.

“What do you mean eaten?”

The DI rolled his eyes as the officer gave the report. Grabbing Charly he said, “You will stay with us and help clear up. As for you Peters, stay here.”

The car drew up at the cemetery and as they climbed out Charly noticed the cleared rubble.

“Still no replacement then?”

“They are still arguing about it,” Andrew said.

Just across from the gate, a copper stood waiting for them.

“What do we have here son?” the DI asked.

The shocked constable simply turned and pointed.

The DI was shocked as he saw the badly eaten corpse. Almost half the face had been consumed, exposing the white skull to the air.

“Only an animal could have done this,” the sergeant commented.

“I hope the doc arrives shortly,” the DI said. “Then we can hunt the
ruddy thing down.”

As if on cue, the medic duly arrived with the forensic team. As he carried out an examination, he winced loudly.

“So what are we looking for doc?” the DI asked. “Lion perhaps?”

The stunned doctor shook his head.

“These bite marks came from no animal Holland. These were made by a person.”

“Cannibalism?” the sergeant asked.

The medic rose.

“Certainly. Must have happened about fifteen or twenty minutes ago.
The body is still warm.”

Charly suddenly blanched.

“About the same time as those folk were reduced to ash.”

As the officers stared, Charly nodded.

“That’s right Holland. There can be no other explanation.”

“What are you driving at? There is no connection.”

Charly was about to reply when the sergeant spotted something.

“Whatever is that?”

As everyone followed his finger, corpses began emerging from the ground.

“Oh you are kidding me,” the doc muttered.

“This just ain’t right,” the sergeant said.

“First a crucified man and now this?” the DI exclaimed.

“I think we had better run,” Charly suggested. “Those buggers look rather hungry.”

As the corpses freed themselves, the guardians of the law simply turned and ran. The doc however never reached the patrol car. He suddenly tripped and the living dead fell upon him. As their filthy teeth sank into his still living body, they tore him limb from limb.

“Where to Charly?” the DI asked as Andrew gunned the engine.

“Back to the station of course. We have to barricade ourselves in.”

As they raced back with siren blaring, the swarm of corpses struck the town. Terrified shoppers were brought down and simply devoured.
One brave driver attempted to smash his way through.

As the corpses were knocked aside, he lost control and smashed into the antique shop. As the tank ignited, it took the shop with it.

When the officers reached the station, they bolted the door and began stacking chairs against it.

“It won’t hold them for long,” Andrew warned.

The stunned desk sergeant watched this as if they were crazy.

“What are you lot doing?”

“Trying to stay alive,” Charly yelled. “We need the desk from the interview room right now.”

As the officers dashed off, the town’s power supply failed.

“Now that’s just great,” Charly moaned. “How on earth do we warn the people now?”

With the heavy desk in place, everyone breathed a collective sigh of relief.

“Is there a back way out of here?” Charly asked.

“We do have a rear fire exit,” the desk sergeant said.

“Let’s hope we don’t need it.”

The door suddenly rattled as many hands smashed against it.

“Here they come,” Charly half muttered.

“What do you think caused this,” the sergeant asked.

“What else but that Martian rock.”

“Oh come on Charly,” the DI said. “That’s not possible.”

Charly pointed to the rattling door.

“Neither is chomping zombies mate. We have to destroy the ruddy
thing.”

“Try the radio,” the DI ordered.

When the sergeant attempted it, he got naught but static.

“No use sir.”

The door started to strain against the lock as the officers stepped back gingerly.

“There must be hundreds of them,” the sergeant whispered.

“Everyone to the exit now!” Charly yelled.

At that moment, the door gave way and hordes of the creatures burst into the foyer. As Charly opened the rear exit, the desk sergeant was brought down heavily.

The corpses rolled him over and using their fingers, tore his stomach wide open. As blood gushed over the floor Charly shouted, “It’s too late for him. Now move it!”

The officers raced out, leaving some prisoners trapped within their cells. When the creatures found them, the bars proved to be quite ineffective.

Charly glanced around at the wandering dead, trying to make a frantic decision.

“We must reach that museum.”

Holland pointed to a clear path and they bolted for it. Elsewhere in Foxley, other lives were being snuffed out.

A young couple tried to hide in the attic, but the ladder was soon found. An off duty policeman tried to fend off the fiends with his baton, but was brought down and torn apart.

Even the firearm officers had no luck. Their high velocity bullets simply shredded the dead. It did not stop them in the end.

A town bus driver closed the door when he was surrounded. Passengers were ordered upstairs for safety, but the dead simply overturned the vehicle. As the horde moved on, one of them carried a memento of this day. The severed head of a traffic warden.

“I think we are trapped,” Charly shouted as they reached the crossroads.

“This way then!” the DI shouted and ran into the alley.

At the far end, they stopped and peeked out. The dead were everywhere. Some of them chewing on bits of severed human flesh, others seemingly staring up at the clear sky.

“Oh this is hopeless,” Andrew muttered.

“We are not dead yet sergeant,” the DI hissed. “Despite what I said last night, I intend to survive this.”

Charly spotted an abandoned mini and recognised it.

“Hey! That’s Grant’s car. I gave it to Triad though.”

Holland tapped his shoulder.

“She sold it before leaving mate. Just hope the keys are in it.”

They dashed over and thankfully found the doors unlocked. Jumping inside, they stared at the empty ignition.

“Oh ****!” the sergeant screamed.

Charly reached under the dash and found the hidden compartment. He opened this and hauled out the spare set.

“I kept these here in case of an emergency. Luckily the new owner failed to find them.”

He gunned the engine, and the mini shot off towards Poplar Street and the museum. At the top of the road though, an army of zombies blocked their path.

Charly hit the brakes and the vehicle skidded to a halt.

“End of the road chaps.”

As everyone looked around, Holland pointed to the right.

“We can go down there.”

Charly saw the long steps and balked.
“You must be joking. We’ll lose the suspension.”

“Just do it!” the sergeant yelled.

Charly swung the wheel and the mini trundled toward the high steps.
Gazing down he closed his eyes and whispered, “Wish me luck.”

The mini began the long, rattly descent and as it neared the bottom, an elderly zombie stepped into view.

“Just ram her,” the DI said.

Charly opened his eyes and put his foot down hard. The bumper smashed into her as the DI shouted, “Now left.”

Charly swung the wheel hard over and the vehicle sped down the empty street.

“We are nearly there,” the sergeant muttered with understandable relief.

However, a crowd of creatures ran onto the road, crazily chewing body parts with no sign of stopping.

Charly twisted the wheel and spun the car around.

“I know another way,” he hissed.

The mini hurtled at breakneck speed to the bottom of that road before skidding into the right hand alleyway.

“Watch out for the footbridge!” the sergeant screamed as they hurtled onto it.

Thankfully, Charly had managed to judge it correctly and they simply scraped the paint from the car’s bodywork. At the far end the vehicle swung left and onto Poplar Street.

“We ruddy well made it,” the sergeant sighed. “Damn good driving mate.”

They screeched to a halt at the smashed entrance and dashed quickly inside. Before them lay the bloody remains of their colleague Peters.

“Where is that damn rock?” Charly asked gazing around the wrecked room.

“You had better find it quickly,” Andrew warned. “Those damned corpses have found us.”

They turned and saw perhaps fifty of the dead, stumbling towards them.

“It’s now or never I suppose,” Charly muttered.

They searched the floor until suddenly the DI picked up the alien meteorite.

“How the hell do we destroy it?”

The corpses were now rapidly closing in, and all hope of escape had at last vaporised.

In desperation, Charly hauled a fire extinguisher from the wall as the creatures stormed into the building.

“Drop it Holland!”

As cold dead hands tore at his back, Charly lifted the container high into the air and brought it down hard.

The rock simply pulverised, as Charly struck again and again. The corpses suddenly collapsed and breathing heavily now, Charly threw the extinguisher away.

They gazed upon the wreckage and stumbled outside.

“So we win again I see,” the sergeant muttered.

“If you call this winning,” Charly said sadly.

“I wonder how many people we lost?” the DI asked.

Charly shook his head sadly.

“Who knows Holland? Perhaps hundreds.”

As they stood among the desolation, the blue sky began to brighten quickly. Charly stared at it in disbelief.

“What now?”

A loud rumbling filled the air and grew quickly louder.

“After everything we have just been through,” the DI hissed. “Now this?”

Shielding his eyes, Charly spotted the lunar image. To his absolute horror, it was transforming before his very eyes.

“Oh no...”

As the rumbling mounted steadily the DI asked, “What did you see Charly?”

Charly had never known true terror until now.

“The moon is turning into pure energy Holland. There is only one substance in this universe capable of that conversion rate.”
“Which is?” the shocked sergeant asked.

“Antimatter. Something made from it must have struck the dark side of the moon.”

“Oh crikey!” the DI shouted.

“What do we do?” the terrified sergeant screamed.

Charly just stared in shocked silence. Moments later, he
muttered, “Now I know what happened, and why my future is so radically different.”

He stepped away suddenly and turned his back.

“Where are you going?” DI Holland asked.

“There is nothing I can do to stop this. Sorry, but my monarch comes first.”

He pushed the sapphire ring onto his finger and pointed. The great vertical whirlpool appeared, and Charly stepped into the time vortex.
“That’s just great!” the DI muttered as the energy wave struck the Earth.

Everyone caught in the open was immediately vaporised. As buildings throughout the planet caught fire, the terrifying blast wave arrived. All the works of man were at once pounded into dust.

When the wave passed, ninety-five percent of life had ceased to exist. Even in the oceans, all surface life perished to a depth of five hundred feet. As the smashed forests burned, the sky darkened and the temperature fell.

Then snow began to fall.

After two centuries of hellish blizzards, the temperature began to rise once more on a completely barren Earth.

Some humans did survive the holocaust. Even some non-human life. As time passed of course, the damage was corrected as nature took a hand.

Even the human survivors flourished in the end. Flourished to start over and build a far better society.

A society that Charly already lived in.

When he picked himself up, he noticed a grinning Grant staring at him atop a horse.

“I thought a horse would be quicker my friend. Have you got the antibiotics?”

Charly brushed himself down as the endless rain ran down his white face.

“I saw how this world was born Grant. I was there. It’s gone my friend. Foxley, civilisation. All gone.”

Fighting back tears, he mounted behind his true friend and the horse took off at a gallop towards the waiting castle.

Foxley: The End.

When they at last arrived, the overworked doc was waiting for them.

“Nice of you to drop in.”

The DI smiled as he gazed upon the corpse.

“As you can see,” the medic explained. “He has been nailed in the style of a typical Roman crucifixion.”

The DI was puzzled by the lack of blood.

“How long has he been here?”

“Three days I reckon.”

“Surely there should be blood everywhere.”

“That’s what puzzles me,” the doc replied.

“Are the forensic boys finished?”

“He can be removed quite safely.”

“We’ll escort him to the morgue then.”

The thirty-year-old female mortician was quite dishy to look at, even when wearing the obligatory white coat. As she stared at the body, she looked puzzled.

“Something up?” the sergeant asked.

“I’m damn sure he was in my cooler last week. Hold on.”

She examined the souls of his feet and pointed.

“See those numbers?”

“What about them?”

“We put those on every one of them nowadays. I just don’t understand this.”

“Are you saying he was stolen from here?” the DI asked.

“Certainly not. I run a tight ship.”

She walked over to the desk and hauled out her logbook.

“Now let me see...Ah yes...There we are.”

The DI read the destination with some interest.

“Foxley academy of medicine.”

The woman glanced at him.

“It was for tuition purposes you see.”

The DI smiled sweetly.

“At least we know where to start. Thanks.”

The well-respected academy had seen better days of course, and when
the officers entered, they headed straight for the surgical department.

As they walked inside, the doctor looked up.

“Can I help?”

After showing their warrant cards, the DI asked, “We are working on a rather unusual case. Have you eh, lost any bodies lately?”

The good doctor looked surprised by the question.

“I should hope not. Don’t want to give the locals too much of a fright.”

The officers smiled at the apparent joke.

“You see sir,” the sergeant said carefully. “We found one of your bodies nailed up in the wood.”

“In the wood eh? Are you certain it is one of ours?”

“The login number confirms it,” the DI said.

“How strange.”

The officers glanced at each other.

“You don’t seem too worried sir.”

“It’s been a rather long day you see.”

Peters did not like his attitude.

“We need to know how he got there.”

“Oh very well. What number was it?”

DI Holland told him and the surgeon looked in the book.

“He was destined for my department. A Doctor Bryce was due to give a
lesson.”

“Where is Bryce now?” the DI asked.

The doctor glanced at his watch.

“He should be in the tea room.”

They thanked him before making their way there.

“He is simply not interested,” Peters complained.

“Obviously worried about protecting this place,” the DI said.

“Especially after the last time,” Andrew added.

The tearoom was located upon the second floor and when they entered, they noted that only one was present.

“That must be him,” the sergeant said.

“Good morning sir,” the DI said smiling.

“Can I help you?”

“A Doctor Bryce?” Peters asked.

“At your service.”

After sitting at the table the DI asked, “We found one of your
corpses in the wood this morning.”

“Are you sure? We haven’t lost any.”

“We are certain sir. You were due for a lesson apparently.”

“Oh I see. Were you also told that I was home ill?”

“As a matter of fact no,” the sergeant said.

“Had a bit of a chest that day. So I decided not to go in.”

“Who took the class then?” Peters asked.

“No one. It was cancelled of course.”

The DI mulled this over.

“So where was the body?”

The doctor looked annoyed.

“Where they are all kept sir. In the cooler.”

“This is getting us nowhere,” the sergeant complained.

“I’m not satisfied with your answers,” the DI warned.

“Not satisfied? How can I be held responsible for a missing corpse?”

“You can’t,” the sergeant said.

“What are you hiding?” Peters asked.

“Nothing that would interest you.”

That statement pricked the DI’s ears.

“So you are hiding something. Are you aware of the implications?”

“What do you mean by that?”

The DI gave him a cold gaze.

“It is an offence to hide anything that may refer to a police investigation.”

The doctor looked worried.

“Actually there is something. I need assurances though.”

“You have them,” the DI said. “Just tell us.”

“I received a note.”

“Do you have it?” the sergeant asked.

The worried doctor reached into an inside pocket and handed it over. When the DI read it, he handed it to Peters.

“It was pushed under my office door.”

“Arrive for school tomorrow and you will be cut.”

“It’s unsigned.”

“They usually are Doctor Bryce,” the DI said calmly.

Peters had seen through the note at once.

“You know sir that this has all the hallmarks of a student prank.”

“A prank?” Bryce exclaimed.

“Your students make our reports and essays correct?”

“At least three times a day, why?”

“We would like to see those,” the DI chipped in.

“You had better come to my office then.”

The office was really a glorified broom cupboard loaded with stacks
of files. The doctor pulled one down and opened it.

“This file refers to my current class. How will this help?”

The DI smiled and pulled the box file towards him.

“We will simply match the handwriting.”

He opened the clip and handed out stacks of written material. As
they went through them, it was Peters who spotted the culprit.

“This is our man sir.”

The doctor glanced at it.

“That’s Martin Gilepsy.”

“Would you know where he is sir?”

“He has the mornings off sir. You’ll find him in the dormitory. His
number is...”

As the officers made their way over the sergeant said, “At least
sir, we have solved the threatening note.”

The DI smiled.

“I suspect we also know who stole the body and nailed it up.”

“There would have to be at least two,” Peters reminded him.

“Don’t you worry,” the DI said. “We’ll ring the truth out of him.”

The student was a healthy twenty-five year old and was none too pleased when they arrived.

The DI gave him a steely look.

“You are being arrested for threats to cause bodily harm. Not to mention theft. Come along with us.”

Back at the station, the prisoner was escorted to cell 13 and promptly locked in.

“Not going to interrogate him sir?” the sergeant asked.

“Let him stew Andrew. Oh Sergeant Hopkins...”

The desk sergeant came over.

“When it gets dark, keep his light off eh? A bit of psych warfare is required.”

The sergeant smiled.

“As you wish sir.”

DI Holland glanced at the wall clock.

“Gone noon I see. Let’s pop out for lunch eh?”

As darkness rolled down, the clock ticked on. At ten pm precisely, the cell door opened and the startled lad was dragged towards the small interview room.

“We matched your handwriting to that filthy note mate,” the DI said. “You are cooked like a goose.”

“He deserved it.”

“What do you mean by that?” the sergeant asked.

“He was marking me down. That’s why.”

“So that entitles you to threatening notes eh?” the DI asked.

As the suspect remained silent the DI added, “Who helped you to nail the corpse up?”

“I don’t know what you are talking about mate.”

“We have your DNA on the ruddy thing,” the detective said lying through his teeth. “We are going to throw the book at you!”

The suspect panicked.

“It was my mate’s suggestion.”

“Whose he then?” Peters asked.

“Malcom Jeffs if you must know.”

The officers smiled.

“Put him back in the cell sergeant. Then we’ll pick up the accomplice.”

By midnight, the case had been firmly wrapped up and the DI yawned.

“Must be near my bedtime. Would you mind stopping by the museum before dropping me off?”

His sergeant nodded.

At that time of night, the roads were quiet, and the car drew up at the town museum. The DI saw what was written upon the notice board.

Martian exhibit starts tomorrow.

The DI felt a sudden spasm of fear that he tried to articulate.

“I don’t know about you Andrew, but I have a nasty feeling that we will all be dead by this time tomorrow.”

The sergeant smiled.

”I hope not sir. It’s my day off and I promised my wife a day at the sea side.”

The DI glanced at him

”Let’s hope you live long enough to enjoy it.”

They were about to drive off when a vertical whirlpool appeared in the centre of the road. A dark figure walked out and the phenomenon vanished.

The officers climbed out as the figure approached.

”Hello DI Holland, Sergeant Andrew.”

The officers glanced at each other.

“Hello Charly,” the DI said grimly.

Yes..I'm the author...Own copyright to these characters..Charly, Jerrix, etc...Enjoy...

Peters was restless that night. Tossing and turning as he sought sleep desperately. He slowly opened his eyes and noticed a dark shape standing at the foot of his bed. The light was suddenly turned on and the poor man blinked.

“Time to get up.”

Peters sat bolt upright and simply stared at the rather absurd image of a large slim cat with sea blue eyes that was watching him. Around the brown fur, a yellow cloak was kept in place with a golden throat clasp.

“Do you intend to lie there all night? Get up!”

The sheets were hauled off as the cat threw the clothes at him.

“Do you know what day it is?” the cat asked.

Peters shook his head as he pulled his clothes on.

“I’m pretty sure that it is Friday,” he muttered. “Why are you here Jerrix?”

“To pull your nuts out of the fire of course. It took me quite a while to locate you by the way. I had to use a wide scan.”

“I wish you hadn’t bothered,” Peters replied.

“There have been a few changes since your last visit,” Peters said.

“I know all about that,” the moggy said. “I do keep up to date you know.”

Jerrix stared at the dressed individual and said, “Are we ready now?”

Peters nodded.

“Come on then.”

“Hold it one second. Where are we off to?”

The cat ignored him as he dashed towards the outside world. When he reached the waiting car he said, “We need your car by the way.”
“Climb in,” Peters said opening the door for him.

As the engine came to life, the puzzled man said, “Where to?”

The moggy smiled.

“Baker Hill please.”

“There is nothing up there now but fast growing trees.”

“If we sit here much longer Peters, those trees will be frazzled.
Now gun that engine.”

The gent shook his head and pushed the pedal to the floor as the moggy tried to explain.

“An escaped criminal is heading your way and I may not be able to defeat him.”

“Who is he?”

“The fiend calls himself Zeus. He is powerful and rather on the dangerous side.”

Peters recognised the name of course.

“The last thing that Foxley needs is a Greek god strutting all over the place.”

“Greek god?” the moggy exclaimed. “Your species has a habit of recording events in a garbled form. Greek god indeed.”

The vehicle had reached the ‘B’ road and was about to turn onto the track when the cat intervened.

“You can stop here.”

As soon as the vehicle halted, the moggy leapt out and started running up the hill. As Peters followed, the cat yelled, “Come on slowcoach.”

At the top of the tree-lined hill, Peters noticed four large silver balls had been carefully placed upon the ground. As he dashed up he said, “Did you put these here?”

“Of course I did. When I activate them, they will create a disruption field you know.”

Jerrix produced his fork like device and setting the dial, proceeded to activate each ball in turn. When he had finished he said, “This may not work by the way.”

“So you expect this Zeus chap to arrive here do you?”

Jerrix stared at him in disbelief.

“Have you been paying attention Peters? Of course he will land here. Why do you think that these are here? Decoration perhaps?”

“Just how dangerous is he?”

The moggy rolled his eyes.

“Let me put it this way. He could swat your town like a fly.”

The cat stared at the inky dark sky and pointed.

“Damn it! Here he comes.”

Peters stared at the growing point of light as the cat pulled him away.

“Follow me right now!”

They ran behind a tree and watched as the light descended rapidly.

When it soft-landed within the circle of devices, rays of green light created a canopy around it.

“It seems to be working after all,” the moggy muttered. Perhaps I was worrying for nothing.”

“It looks quite harmless to me. Nothing like Zeus.”

“You really are an idiot,” the cat hissed.

As they watched with baited breath, the ball of light suddenly expanded, shattering the canopy of light.

“That’s torn it,” the cat muttered.

The light grew to an immense size before transforming into the figure of a hideous individual. Now standing a hundred feet high, a single eye blinked from beneath the mop of straggly hair. His hands formed two huge digits, and a pair of sandals and a long skirt finished the look off.

Jerrix pointed and whispered, “That is Zeus.”

The horrified mortal watched as the great eye scanned his immediate surroundings. As he looked down, he spotted the useless devices. A deep voice roared with laughter.

“Such puny technology. Who dares to challenge the great Zeus?”

Jerrix pulled Peters down as the giant smashed the devices with his feet.

“A little demonstration of my power perhaps?”

He raised his hand and pointed towards Jubilee Tower. As he did so, a bolt of energy akin to lightning shot out and smashed the building into rubble.

“Now they shall follow me,” the fellow bellowed. “Either that or they shall face destruction.”

He slowly lumbered off towards the waking town as fire sirens rent the night.

“Good grief!” Peters said as he watched.

“Now you know why I was worried,” the cat muttered.

“He’ll trample the town flat.”

“Certainly he will. That is if you lot choose the path of resistance.”

“Not something that you recommend then?”

Jerrix shook his fluffy head.

“Not on this occasion. For once strict compliance is the order of the day.”

“Triad won’t stand for that,” Peters muttered.

The cat nodded.

“That is what worries me.”

Ep 2

When DI Holland opened his window to find out what the ongoing din was about, he stared in disbelief at the apparition. Illuminated by the flames from the shattered tower, Zeus watched as fire engines approached at high speed.

“So they want to play do they?”

He leaned forward and snatched them up like toys. As the crew clung for dear life, he hurled them towards Foxley wood roaring with evil laughter.

“This is just far too easy.”

Holland looked down as the panda car drew up and his terrified sergeant yelled up at him.

“We have to move now sir!”

The DI needed no second telling as he quickly dressed. When he at last sat beside the officer he asked, “Is that thing for real Andrew?”

“It certainly looks solid to me sir.”

“Where is Peters by the way?”

“He wasn't at home sir. Where do you want to go?”

The DI thought rapidly.

“We need to set up a command post Andrew. Somewhere to organise some kind of response. Inform despatch that all armed units are to assemble on Southside.”

The officer made the frantic call before the car lurched away with siren blaring.

Zeus watched from his vantage point as terrified residents fled in all directions. To make his superiority quite clear to everyone, he raised his hand once more and unleashed an energy bolt toward the rail station. The building went up in an explosion of flame, carriages, and hapless passengers being engulfed in the holocaust.

“Puny man,” the monster roared. “Bow down to my greatness or meet your sorry end!”

A group of heroic men suddenly approached from Market Street, armed with nothing more that cricket bats.

“We are not afraid of you mate!” one of them shouted.

“You dare to question my authority?”

“We dare!”

“So be it!”

His great maw swept down, smashing the protesters to a bloody pulp.
Squeezing the goo between his two digits, he licked it off.

“Not bad,” Zeus muttered. “Could do with some salt though.”

A squad car flashed by, gunshots being fired from the rear window. Zeus felt the bee stings and responded by grabbing the offending vehicle.

“Such puny resistance is quite pointless you know.”

He turned toward the burning tower and promptly tossed the car into the flames. Beneath his feet, a horrified mother was frantically trying to get her newborn to safety when she was spotted.

Horrified onlookers half expected him to murder her and were somewhat astonished when she passed by safely.

“Now listen to me humanity. I’m the new kid on the block. Obey my commands and you shall not be harmed.”

The town priest suddenly approached from the crowd. A man without a church since the dragon episode, he was a sprightly fifty year old who truly believed that faith could conquer everything.

With his crucifix stretched out, he marched upon the bloodthirsty fiend.

“Get thee back to hell Satan!”

Zeus stared at this astonishing individual and picked him up gently.

“Who is this Satan? A fellow like myself?”

The priest shook with divine rage.

“You are cursed by our Lord and shalt not prevail!”

The monster laughed and put him down again.

“I do prevail so run along now.”

As chaos erupted around him, he was becoming a little peeved at the lack of support from the townsfolk.

“You need another demonstration of my power?”

He looked around for a suitable target and his eye locked with the swimming baths on Tressle Street.

“That looks like a useless building. Not in my kingdom!”

A thunderbolt launched downwards, smashing the baths into fragments.
The creature bellowed once more.

“Bring me adequate food for your master!”

The townsfolk just stared at each other, before fleeing as a body to the presumed safety of the nearby wood.

Upon Baker Hill, Peters and Jerrix had watched helplessly as the giant smote the hapless town.

“You have got to do something,” Peters said. “Can’t you smite him or something?”

“With what exactly? That fellow is in his element.”

“We just cannot watch the town being trashed.”

“That’s precisely what we must do to survive my boy.”

“I bet the DI is up to something.”

“That new chap Holland? If he has much sense he’ll leave well alone.”

Peters was disgusted by the lack of action and started running back to the waiting car.

“Where are you off to?”

“The warehouses. That’s where my boss will head for.”

Jerrix shrugged his shoulders and ran after him. When they arrived on Southside, the DI spotted them with intense shock.

“What the hell are you?”

Jerrix just smiled.

“The only intelligent creature who knows how to stop Zeus DI.”

“Sorry sir,” Peters said. “This is Jerrix Tau, well known to my department.”

“He would be,” the stunned officer said.

The fearless moggy glanced at the eight armed officers and winced.

“Please don’t tell me that you are planning a last stand?”

“You don’t really expect us to sit on our butts do you?”

Jerrix shook his head and produced his fork like device.

“My first attempt failed but this might work.”

“That puny thing?” the sergeant asked.

Jerrix rolled his eyes.

“What I really need is a loadstone.”

“I’ve heard of those,” Peters said.

“Glad you have,” Jerrix said. “Now I just need to reset the dial and eh, bob’s your uncle.”

He waived it around and examined the readout.

“It’s in that direction,” the moggy said pointing.

“That takes us to the monastery,” the DI pointed out.

“Probably been used as a brick then,” the unhappy feline said. “Come on then and bring your men. I’ll need protecting from the nuns.”

With a grin, he headed back to the car as Peters climbed in.

“Will this really work Jerrix?”

The cat glanced at him.

“If it doesn’t I’ll never live it down.”

When they arrived at the locked gates, the moggy was incensed.

“This will never do you know.”

He set the device to laser cut and quickly snapped the padlock.
Pushing the gate open, he jumped back in as the cars moved by.

The sisters had been watching the carnage as the cars drew up. The mother superior marched over as the officers got out.

“May we help you?”

The cat ignored her and walked over to the main entrance of the Tudor building. Glancing at the left, he soon spotted what he was looking for.

“Ruddy stupid place to put it!”

Kneeling, he activated the cutter and started to carefully carve around the precious loadstone.

“What do you think you are doing?”

“Keep her back Holland or shoot her eh?”

The shocked woman was quickly led off as the cutting continued.

“I’ll need a length of wire by the way. About a foot long.”

“We’ll find it,” the DI said leading his men inside.

By the time the load stone had been removed, they had returned with the cable and Jerrix quickly bared the end.

“What’s your plan?” the sergeant asked.

“This should drain that thing’s energy. It’ll make a loud fizzing noise by the way.”

“You’d have to get ruddy close,” Peters said.

“Actually I know that.”

The cat’s device melted the wire into the stone and moments later, it was secure.

“Now to business,” the moggy said smiling.

As everyone watched, he marched towards the town, whistling loudly to himself. The officers shrugged their shoulders and followed by car.

As they reached Foxley, the unhappy Zeus was becoming increasingly angry.

“No food then?” he demanded. “Want your lousy world to burn then?”
He raised his maw and unleashed bolt after bolt at Perky Road incinerating the two gay clubs.

“I need food now!” the enraged god demanded.

“No dinner then Zeus,” a timid voice called out.

The Cyclops gazed down and spotted the moggy walking over.

“Jerrix Tau. We meet once more.”

The brave feline bowed.

“I put you in prison remember. You can go back if you wish.”

The god laughed.

“I broke through their shields Jerrix. I am invincible.”

“So you think eh?”

The moggy lassoed the wire and hurled it and the loadstone at the heel of the creature. As it struck, the energy discharged with a loud whoosh. Zeus suddenly staggered as Jerrix screamed, “Now!”

A volley of bullets slammed into the creature, reeling it back. Jerrix dived clear as it suddenly stumbled before crashing headlong.
Jerrix stood and dusted himself down.

“That’s the end of him at least,” the DI muttered. “Thanks for the help.”

Jerrix grinned.

“Just like Achilles, you see. Weak heels.”

As they laughed, they were suddenly frozen in time. As the moggy stared, a familiar melodic voice greeted him.

Jerrix gawped at the only being within our universe that he truly feared. Her dark hair and silver dress seemed to bristle with absolute power.

“Oh, it's you Dyan. Whatever are you doing here?”

The woman smiled sweetly.

“Putting right the mess that you caused.”

The shocked moggy pointed to himself.

“Me? Look around you. Zeus was responsible.”

“I intended to stop him Jerrix. You intervened.”

Now the moggy was worried.

“Oh come on. My ruddy plan worked!”

Dyan waved her arm and the cat was silenced.

“That’s much better,” she muttered. “You keep stepping out of your position in the space time cortex. What you see around you is the result. From now on, I will put a stop to your meddling. You will be returned to your proper place.”

She waived her hand once more and the moggy gasped.

“I hate you doing that. As for locking me into my time stream, I just won’t stand for it.”

“Enough Jerrix Tau,” she said quietly. “I maintain time remember? “Be gone from my sight.”

With those words, the unhappy moggy faded from view as Dyan surveyed the smashed town of Foxley.

“I shall simply erase this particular timeline. For these mortals nothing will have happened tonight. This planet has the scent of death about it. ”

With these words, the powerful woman vanished.

It was the knocking that woke Peters up after a restless night. He glanced at the clock and saw the sunlight streaming in.

“My ruddy alarm failed.”

He climbed out and opened his bedsit door.

“Sorry sir won’t happen again.”

“I hope not Peter. Come on, we have a job to do at Foxley Wood.”

“What’s going on there?”

“Would you believe someone has been nailed to a tree?”

Not sure if this goes here..

Thanks to Mingle 2..I'm meeting my dream woman on Saturday..Wish me luck! Thanks to the team..Made fairly old man very happy..

Thanks Mingle 2...

Author: If you have been following these stories so far, the eagle eyed will have spotted the biographic references!

I know about astral projection because I practice it...

Weeks had gone by since the dragon. The mountain of rubble had been cleared at last and the local council, hit by severe cuts to its budget, wrangled over a replacement.

The townsfolk had divided opinions. Some wanted a replica of the church; others wanted a modern edifice to doomed religion.

Detective Inspector Holland was above all this of course. As twenty-two hours came and went, he was looking forward to a warm bath, and his rubber duck.

When Sergeant Andrew entered, the DI knew that his plans would have to wait.

“What’s up now?” he asked wearily.

“It’s the cinema sir. It would appear that one of the patrons has died.”

The DI sighed.

“I suppose that we had better take a look. Let’s hope it’s a heart attack eh? What was on by the way?”

The sergeant smiled.

“’Zombie women of Manhattan’ sir.

“That would certainly do the trick. Let’s not keep the good doctor waiting now. Where’s Peters?”

“At home sir. In that bedsit remember.”

“Phone him up. We might need his undoubted expertise.”

The sergeant smiled and headed for the phone.

Foxley’s picture house was at least forty years old. The black and white painted exterior was in need of a repaint. Unlike today’s picture houses, this had only one screen.

As the officers wandered inside, the doc met them.

“Evening Holland. You are really going to love this.”

They were led into the viewing room where a young gent sat motionless upon the red silk chairs.

“What did he die off?” the sergeant asked.

“My initial examination did not shed any light upon that. About two dozen witnesses saw him choke though.”

The DI looked at the body, noting the lack of food.

“Carry out the autopsy and I’ll read the report.”

The medical man smiled.

“At least you read them.”

The DI smiled and stepped outside. As he did so, Peters arrived in his car.

“Rather late aren’t we?”

“I was asleep when Andrew phoned. What’s up?”

“Seems like natural causes. Sorry we disturbed you.”

“Do you mind if I take a peek?”

“Be my guest.”

The officers followed him inside and watched as he joined the doc.

“Let me have a look.”

Peters knelt and examined his throat closely.

“Hmm...”

“What’s up?” the DI asked.

“His throat has been crushed. Certainly not natural.”

“Within a packed cinema?” the doc asked. “Far too many witnesses for that.”

“It would surprise you doc,” Peters said slowly.

Standing up again he said, “We have a murder on our hands Holland. A rather strange one at that.”

The DI grimaced.

“As if we need another one. All right. Have your report upon my desk by eight doc. It’s way past my bedtime.”
 
Ep 2

As the DI walked into the station that morning, Sergeant Andrew handed over the report.

“I want you two in my office now.”

Once Peters and the officer had joined him, he sat at his desk and read it. Then he glanced up.

“The doc agrees with the crushed throat Peters. He even put a note at the bottom. One word. Baffled.”

“How does one murder someone with so many witnesses?” Andrew asked.

“I can’t explain that either,” the DI admitted.

“He obviously knew that he could not be seen,” Peters said.

“What does that mean?” the DI asked. “That we have a killer ghost upon our hands?”

“That is one explanation sir.”

“So how do we deal with it? Exorcism?”

“If it comes to bell, bible and candle yes. That would work. When I examined the victim I noted no pressure marks.”

“So what is our next move on this crazy chess board?” the sergeant asked.

“We wait for it to strike again,” Peters answered bleakly.

“Strike again?” the DI asked. “Isn’t one death quite enough?”

“It certainly is, but we can’t stop it at present sir. Not until it makes a mistake.”

“Oh great!” the DI said.

A taxi driver had just picked up a passenger from the rail station, and was en-route to the fancy homes on Bridge Lane when he suddenly started coughing violently.

“Are you alright mate?”

As the coughing escalated, the frightened passenger banged upon the glass separation. He helplessly watched as the driver slumped forward.

The taxi veered to the left, smashing into a traffic sign before turning over twice. The petrol tank ignited in a yellow ball of fire, killing the occupants at once.

When the desk sergeant opened the door, the DI was none too happy.

“What the hell do you want?”

“The fire chief called on line one sir. Something to do with a traffic accident sir.”

“We don’t investigate such things. That’s the responsibility of traffic.”

“I already know that. The doc is there already. He insists that you pop along.”

The well-meaning DI nodded.

“Tell him we are on our way.”

As the desk sergeant left the room, he mumbled, “He's in a mood.”

Holland saw the burnt out vehicle that lay within a large pool of water. An ambulance waited as the fire engines stood to one side.
He marched over to the doc and said rather rudely, “We are in the middle of a murder investigation. What’s so ruddy important?”

The doc led him to the two bodies that now lay upon stretchers.

“The passenger was burnt to death Holland, but the driver...”

“What about him?”

The doc shook his head.

“His throat was crushed. Just like the other one.”

The shocked DI turned to Peters.

“You had better take a look.”

The small individual knelt and examined the charred corpse. After a moment he said, “I concur with that sir.”

“You concur,” the DI said. “So was it this ghost?”

As the doc stared, Peters shook his head.

“The burning has erased evidence of pressure marks, I will say this though. The passenger did not get to him. The crushing came from the front.”

“It definitely did,” the doc acknowledged. “Though for the life of me I cannot work out how.”

This was not what the officer wanted of course.

“Did he do this himself?”

Both men shook their heads.

The DI inhaled sharply.

“What a ruddy mess!”

As Peters walked away, he took the DI aside.

“Try calming down sir eh? I really don’t know what we are dealing
with but at present, the ghost theory fits.”

The DI just stared.

“Two deaths Peters. Any further ideas?”

“We should return to the station sir. Then perhaps I’ll open up.”

The DI smiled.

“That’s what I like about you mate. Always cagey. Hey doc, send in your report.”

Back at the station, Peters strode the office floor as the officers sat and watched.

“Remember that I said we had to wait until he made a mistake?”

“Of course,” the DI replied. “Has he made one then?”

“He certainly has. He attacked a moving object.”

“How does that help us?” Andrew asked.

“It proves that the attacker was conscious when it came in.”

Ep 3

“You better explain yourself,” the DI said.

The pacing stopped and Peters hunched over the desk.

“Ever heard of astral projection?”

The two officers glanced at each other.

“Obviously not. When we sleep, we leave our bodies to recharge upon the astral plane. What we encounter there is sometimes remembered as dreams.”

“So?” Andrews asked.

“Certain individuals can trigger this at will Holland. Our killer lays back, closes his eyes and projects by sheer force of will. That explains how he hit a taxi in motion. Ghosts cannot do that. They need a stationary object.”

“So those ghost reports on buses are crap?” Andrew asked.

Peters shook his head.

“They climbed on at one of the bus stops.”

“Accepting that you are correct for argument sake,” the DI said. “How do we stop him?”

Peters shook his head again.

“Believe it or not Holland. Women project easier than we do.”

“A woman is doing this?” Andrew asked.

“She certainly is.”

“So how do we stop her?” the DI asked.

“We need another practitioner Holland. I can’t do it. Even though I tried.”

“That’s a really great help,” the DI said sarcastically. “Where do we find one?”

Peters smiled.

“On the internet of course.”

As night fell, an American projectionist lay within his bedroom and concentrated. Within his head, he repeated the following mantra.

“I will locate the Foxley killer.”

As time passed, the monotony put him to sleep.

He quickly found himself standing inside a small bedsit. Glancing around, he saw the killer seemingly fast asleep.

“This is rather strange,” he muttered.

As he said this, the woman suddenly woke up. The projectionist promptly vanished.

When the phone rang, the DI snatched it up.

“What did you find out?”

From across the Atlantic, the caller told him.

“She is certainly not aware of the crimes sir. I saw nothing malevolent. She was sleeping like a baby.”

“Are you saying that the killings are involuntary?”

“They must be. She probably remembers them as hellish nightmares.”

“I don’t suppose you recorded her address?” the DI asked hopefully.

“Of course I did. I wouldn’t be much of one if I missed that.”

When the DI wrote it down, he smiled.

“We have the culprit but according to your contact Peters, she
dreams it.”

“I see. An innocent then.”

“Exactly. Murder by dream would not stand up in court.”

“Then we are buggered,” Sergeant Andrew muttered.

“Perhaps not,” Peters said. “We should see her now.”

When they banged upon her door, the poor lady was petrified.

“Who is it?”

“Police.”

She opened it at once and the officers entered.

When she sat down, Peters asked, “Have you had any weird dreams
lately?”

The woman nodded.

Pretty strange. In one I was talking to a guy in a cinema and in the
second I was arguing with a taxi driver about the fare.”

The officers glanced at each other.

“Those two individuals died,” Holland said carefully.

“What?”

“Whatever these two think,” Peters said gently. “You are not responsible. My friends at military intelligence have a device that emits a blocking signal. The only thing that you have to do is wear it every time you go to bed.”

“What kind of device?” the woman asked.

“It’s a headband that emits beta waves. I’ll have it sent at once if
I may use your phone?”

The poor woman nodded.

“Is that it?” Andrew asked when he returned from the hall.

“We need to stay here until it arrives,” Peters said. “Just to keep her awake. Triad is sending it by motorcycle courier.”

Peters smiled sweetly at the innocent.

“What music do you like?”

Your welcome...

The commodore did not like today’s grim duty. As he made his way to the security pod, Mike joined him.

“Dam terrible business.”

“Yes it is commodore.”

Within that pod, the condemned man waited. Convicted of capital murder, he sat upon the floor of the death cell. This was no normal holding area though. The bare room was simply a vacuum chamber.
As the commodore approached, the witnesses of the victim turned to look. The commodore stopped at the door and tapped an intercom.

“Are you prepared?”

“For you to murder me?”

“You were legally convicted of the heinous crime.”

“You ignored one fact mate. I did not do it.”

The commodore winced.

“Have you any final words before the sentence is carried out?”

“Tell my wife never to stop digging.”

The commodore nodded. He tapped the red button and watched as the rear wall opened itself to space.

With the execution over, the wall closed and air was pumped inside once more.

“Can you speak to his widow Mike?”

“Of course sir.”

When the guard knocked upon the apartment door, the distraught woman answered almost at once.

“Is it over?”

“It is.”

The petite but attractive lady sat upon the chair and wept bitterly.

“He was innocent you know.”

“Had that been the case, it would have come out at his trial.”

“Coke was never given a fair chance. So he had a temper, but murder was unknown to him.”

“I can understand how you feel,” Mike said gently.

“I doubt that Mike.”

“Your husband wants you never to stop digging.”

The woman glanced up and glared.

“Oh I will do more than that. I‘ll tear this vessel apart until my husband is cleared.”

Mike shook his head sadly.

“What good will that do?”

“Salve for my soul Mike.”

“I have to go now. Talk whenever you want.”

Dani was not the type of woman to accept a verdict she knew was wrong. Even as the guard left her alone, her mind started to work out a line of enquiry.

“I think I’ll have a word with Trevor.”

The man in question was enjoying his golf after an incredibly bad start. At the first two holes, he had bunkered his ball but by the seventeenth, his stroke had returned.

When he spotted Dani walking towards him, he tried to smile.

“Hello Trevor, how is it going?”

“Not too bad Dani. I never expected to see you today.”

“Look, I need to ask you a couple of questions.”

Trevor knew what was coming.

“About the case?”

“What else. You found the body.”

“Unfortunately yes. We had arranged to play squash you see but he never turned up. So I went to his pad and when he failed to answer I activated the security override.”

“Just tell me what you saw.”

Trevor thought back.

“At first I thought that he was asleep, but when I checked the twin daggers came into view.”

“At the trial you mentioned the handles.”

“You remember that?”

“I was there remember.”

“Well, the handles were a little unusual. They had scenes from the ancient Indian wars.”

“Well thanks Trevor.”

“You doing a bit of freelancing?”

“What choice do I have?”

“You should talk to the investigator then. He will be in the bar.”

She thanked him and headed off to the next port of call.

The ship had a group of investigators and when Dani saw him, she remembered his rather stiff stare.

“Can we speak?”

He put his drink down and nodded.

“Sorry about your husband by the way.”

“Thanks. I spoke to Trevor this morning.”

“What about?”

“He mentioned the knife handles.”

“Oh those. I remember them well.”

“You said at the trial that they matched Coke’s collection.”

“That was the truth Dani. He was an avid collector. Even you knew that.”

“Did you expand your investigation?”

“I did not need to. Once the link was made further enquiry was pointless.”

“So there could be someone else on board with such weapons.”

“Hardly likely.”

He paused for a moment.

“You seem to have forgotten something.”

“Probably.”

“You said on oath that on that morning you noticed that two were missing.”

Her face fell.

“Didn’t I just.”

As she wandered off, he called out, “Why not talk to that mate of his. You know. The one you don’t like.”

She nodded and plodded on.

Carol was a man that very few liked. Tall, burly, and quite annoying at times, he had befriended her husband at once. After that, they were always an item.

She found him at his post in engineering and he smiled as she approached.

“Pretty bad day for you.”

“Yes it is. Is this a bad time?”

“Not really. Everything is tiptop as usual. What do you want?”

“How was my husband on the day of the murder?”

“Happy as usual. After all, he was married to you.”

“No sign of being angry or nervous.”

Carol shook his head.

“Not on that day. I said so at his trial.”

“Yes you did. You saw him an hour after it?”

“The murder you mean? He was perfectly calm. Even mentioned your surprise birthday party.”

“Strange behaviour for a killer don’t you think?”

“I told the investigator that but he simply ignored it.”

She smiled and left him to his important job. Once outside, she thought things over.

“So far everyone is sticking to their stories. I know he’s innocent but how can I prove it?”

She sighed deeply and decided to speak once more to Mike.

“Any joy?” he asked as she entered the observation pod.

Dani shook her head.

“I seem to be banging my head against a brick wall.”

“Sometimes I know the feeling.”

“You know how things work around here Mike. We are all tracked by camera right?”

“It's an integral part of our security system. On a ship like this, it’s essential.”

“Why do you think that the investigator never examined the logs?”

“You know why Dani. The knife handles pinned your husband to the crime. There really was no need to check the logs.”

“They are kept on hard disk aren’t they?”

Mike gazed at her intently.

“I think that you want to see them.”

“I don’t suppose you could arrange it for me?”

Mike shrugged his shoulders.

“I’ll have to get the commodore to authorise it. Then I will come and collect you. Where can I find you?”

“My apartment. That’s where I’m off to now.”

Once she left, the guard made his way to the bridge to speak to the man in charge.

The commodore was watching his bridge crew at work when the guard entered.

“Something up Mike?”

“Dani wants access to our security logs sir. She has a bee in her bonnet.”

“That doesn’t surprise me. Wives tend to back their partners up.”

“What harm could it do,” Mike said. “It could give her closure.”

The commodore nodded.

“Give her full access and perhaps a hand eh?”

When Dani looked up from the chair, Mike was smiling at her.

“The commodore agreed. Off we go then.”

She followed happily and as he sat her down at the security desk, he pointed out the buttons.

“Simply tell the computer who you want to track, then supply the date and watch the result. You have freeze frame too.”

“Thanks Mike. Where are you off to?”

“I’m staying here. The commodore wants me to give you a hand.”

Once the info was supplied, she watched her husband’s movements from the time that he woke onwards. Everything seemed perfectly normal until he reached the lift for the umpteenth time.

“Wait a moment.”

“Spot something?” Mike asked.

She rewound then froze.

“What do you think that is?”

The screen showed coke touching the hand of a green haired female.

“Zoom and augment,” the guard ordered.

They both stared at the obvious letter.

“He gave it to her,” Dani whispered.

“Certainly seems like it.”

Dani glanced at him.

“Does this machine record the murder?”

“I really think you don’t need to see that.”

“Have you seen it?”

“As a matter of fact no.”

“Then I want to.”

Rather reluctantly, Mike tapped the keys and the sequence started to
play. As the victim went to bed, the screen went blank.

“Now that should not happen,” Mike muttered.

He fiddled with the keys but the screen remained dark.

“Must be a glitch,” he suggested.

“Or sabotage.”

As they mulled this over, Dani started tapping once more.

“What are you looking for now?”

“Everyone with green hair,” she said.

Only two faces popped up, and one of those was male.

“That’s her,” Mike said. “Want to have a word with her?”

“Do I just.”

They found the woman in question swimming in the baths, and when she saw Mike, she became very concerned.

“Hello Maggie,” Mike said pleasantly. “We need a word.”

She clambered out and shook herself down before sitting against the wall.

“We know about the note,” Dani said.

Maggie glanced at them both.

“It was only a bit of fun. No harm ever came of it.”

“What are you talking about?” Mike asked.

Dani could see the truth written across her face.

“They were having an affair. Weren’t you?”

Maggie nodded.

“The notes were simply saying where our partners were. When we were alone, we got together.”

Mike thought this over.

“So both partners knew nothing of it.”

“I certainly didn’t,” Dani admitted.

“That was the idea,” Maggie said.

“Did Coke buy you anything?” Dani asked.

“Just some perfume.”

“Where do you hide that?” Mike demanded.

“It’s in my bedroom drawer. Why?”

Mike shook his head angrily.

“That was a daft place to put it!”

“I don’t quite follow,” Dani said.

“What if Nick found it but kept quiet?”

“He doesn’t have the brains,” Maggie muttered.

“He would need the receipt to find out who bought it.”

“Are you saying Nick was killed by my husband?”

“I don’t think so,” Mike whispered.

“What are you on about,” Maggie asked.

Mike stared at her.

“You know about electronics too Maggie. It would be simple to disable the camera at a convenient time.”

“I never touched the ruddy camera.”

“Nick finds out and confronts you. An argument develops and you march out. Without Coke's knowledge, you remove the knives and return to your apartment. Then you stick him.”

“You will never prove such a ridiculous theory,” Maggie said.

“I think that I can. You could not disable all the cameras because that would trigger an alert. If I check the log, I bet you will be seen heading back here with two concealed blades.”

“They wouldn’t show up then,” Dani said gloomily.

Mike shook his head.

“The scanners also detect metal objects. It’s part of the system.”

Maggie suddenly broke down.

“I don’t know what came over me.”

“You let my husband die to save your own miserable life.”

“I was frightened.”

Mike took her by the arm and read the charge. As he led her away he said, “Don’t worry Dani. She’ll suffer the same fate.”

Triad dashed from the dark copter as her men deployed around it. She stared in absolute horror at the rubble and muttered, “He couldn’t have survived that.

A dusty figure crawled into view and slowly stood. She dashed toward him with little concealment of her relief.

“You seem to have a charmed life Charles.”

He smiled ruefully.

“I landed on a hay bale my dear. Obviously the town had held its yearly carnival.”

He turned and gazed upon the ruins of the once lovely church.

“I suppose they will build a modern monstrosity now.”

The siren blared its all clear tone as police sirens approached. Charly watched as panda cars drew to a halt and his colleagues ran towards him.

After happy greetings, Grant handed back the precious sapphire ring.

“I suppose you two are off again.”

Charly nodded.

“We have a rather wet but delightful world waiting for us my dear.”

DI Holland hung his head sheepishly.

“Sorry for what I said mate. You did damn well.”

Charly smiled back.

“The panda car is wrecked I’m afraid.”

“We have plenty more. Is that the end of it then?”

Grant smiled.

“Unless daddy is still around.”

“Now don’t you start mate,” Charly said. “If everyone can stand aside, we just might make it back.”

He placed the ring upon his finger and the vortex opened before them. Without a backward glance, they vanished into time. Once the whirlpool had closed Triad said, “I’ll stick around for a short while. Foxley will recover from this blow.”

The DI smiled.

“We are a pretty resilient lot you know.”

The whirlpool tossed the travellers onto the ground and when they stood once more a straight faced, dark uniformed Triad said, “Hail Caesar!”

As she did this, a clenched fist slapped her right breast.

“Are you feeling okay Triad?” Charly asked. “Sorry about this but the ruddy transfer backfired.”

“We have been expecting your arrival,” she said coldly. “Your accommodation is ready.”

Charly and Grant stared at their friends. The DI and Andrew stood to attention, whilst Peters looked worried.

“What is going on?” Grant asked. “I don’t think that this is funny.”
Triad ignored it and pointed to the armoured jeep.

“If you could follow me sir.”

Charly glanced at Grant suspiciously and said, “We should get in.”

As Triad adjusted her hip holster, the group sat in their places and the vehicle set off across the town. As they reached the hotel, Charly got one hell of a shock.

Armed troops stood at attention, whilst the old cannon upon the roof had been replaced by a modern machine gun. A flagpole had been added that sported a red and gold insignia.

“We cleared out the riffraff sir,” Triad informed him. You have the top floor suite.”

“Sounds fine to me Triad,” Charly muttered as they were led inside.

The interior was completely different. Heavy tables littered the floor and a dark suited man stood behind the glass desk. They marched up the stairs to the top floor, where a sumptuous apartment awaited them.

“It is the best they have sir. Not up to Rome’s standards I’m afraid.”

“I’m confused...” Grant said.

Charly silenced him.

“Everything looks fine Helen. Where eh, will you be?”

She gave him a rather strange look.

“Downstairs sir.”

When he gave her a blank look, she added, “For the command conference sir.”

Charly rubbed his head.

“Of course. My ears must still be ringing from that blast.”

Triad gave him a wide smile.

“Don’t worry sir, we’ll get the terrorists.”

That remark worried Charly no end but he was smart enough to keep his mouth shut.

“I need to be alone now. Let me know when the conference begins.”

“Hail Caesar!”

As soon as the door slammed shut, Charly marched to the silk lined chair and collapsed into it.

“Have you any idea what has happened Grant?”

“It beats me mate. Everyone has gone mad. Troops everywhere, that ruddy flag, and as for you being Caesar...”

“We have ended up in a parallel reality.”

Grant just stared at him.

“How is that possible? The king assured us that those rings were foolproof.”

“Perhaps there is a defect that he was unaware of. I hope to hell the blast did not damage it.”

“What’s all this about you being Caesar anyway? I had problems keeping my face straight.”

Charly glanced up.

“These lot are fascists my boy. As for terrorists blowing up the church...We all know what happens to them.”

“They get shot,” Grant added helpfully.

Charly nodded.

“We better make sure that no one becomes suspicious. If they realise that we are not their people, it will be a wall for us.”

“I’ll try and remember that mate. How do we handle this conference?”

Charly smiled.

“Would you believe by winging it?”

When it began, Charly and Grant were taken back downstairs where a number of generals had gathered. Upon a large table, a map was on display.

Charly gazed at the dots within the northern border.

“What’s your report,” he said to no one in particular.

The officer to his left pointed at the map.

“Our forces have penetrated northern China sir, but we are encountering heavy resistance at Chungdong.”

Charly pointed to a brown area.

“What about this.”

The general looked puzzled.

Those are mountains sir.”

Charly recovered himself admirably.

“I know that. It seems to me that if we send infantry through there, Chungdong will be outflanked.”

“Sorry sir, I hadn’t thought of that.”

“No worries then. What are these red dots in the Pacific?”

“The enemy navy sir. As you know, they defeated ours last week. Of course the admiral was executed for his short comings.”

Charly shook his head.

“Forgive me a moment. Could you remind me how this war began?”

Triad smiled and said, “The Chinese signed an alliance with the Americans sir. We went to war after you issued the following directive. It is better to strike first before they walk all over us.”

“That sounds like you,” Grant commented.

“Perhaps we should negotiate?”

“With China sir?” the general asked.

“Who else?”

“I think we have gone beyond that,” Triad replied.

Charly thought for a moment.

“What about these terrorists. Who are they?”

“A small group sir,” Triad said. “They call themselves The Freedom Movement.”


“Do we know where they are based?”

Triads shook her head.

“They seem to be elusive.”

Charly thought for a moment.

“I’ll tell you what we shall do then. I want security ramped up and
Foxley sealed off.”

“May I ask why sir?” Triad said.

“It is obvious to me that the cell will still be here, and that now
they know that I’m still alive, they may try again.”

“Of course sir.”

“Is that everything?”

Triad smiled.

“We have a small treat sir.”

Charly gave her a withering look.

“What might that be?”

“A public execution sir. Excellent for the soul to watch a hanging.”

Charly was horrified.

“What is there crime?”

“Oh you know the type. Dropouts, the homeless etc.”

Charly gritted his teeth.

“I want my visit to create a good impression Triad. Make damn sure that they are released at once. Call it an amnesty. If they dangle you will join them!”

As she dashed outside, Charly turned to the general.

“Do we have a local map?”

The officer pulled away the large one and soon replaced it.

“What are these areas around the town?”

“Work camps sir. Very productive I should add.”

“I want to see that one.”

The officer nodded and as Triad returned, Charly barked, “The conference is over. Come on Helen, we have a camp to inspect.”

As they climbed inside the jeep, the woman suddenly took umbrage.

“If you don’t mind sir, I would prefer to be referred to by my
proper title.”

Charly smiled.

“As you wish Triad. As you wish.”

As the jeep made its way across town, Charly and Grant noted the lack of traffic. After ten minutes or so, Charly called for a halt. Gazing across a field, he noticed a pile of old rubble.

“What happened to the monastery?”

“Religion is banned sir. We blew it up with the nuns inside.”

She looked at him rather strangely.

“If you don’t mind me saying sir, you are acting very strangely.”

“Probably concussion Triad. Now, can we see this labour camp?”

She booted the vehicle and after half an hour, they drove onto a paved road that led to a gated entrance. Armed guards were on patrol as they reached the gates.

The guard saluted and allowed them in as Grant gazed upon the barbed wire and flimsy wooden huts.

Prisoners were slogging away at various ‘work,’ breaking rocks, ploughing land without horses etc as guards watched closely.

“Who’s in charge here?”

“Commandant Greame sir.”

Charly glared at her.

“Get him right now!”

Triad nodded and two guards ran off to fetch the man in question.
When he was dragged before Caesar, it was obvious that he was terrified.

“Are you responsible for this?”

“I don’t understand.”

“For this brutal treatment. Triad, I want prisoners treated humanely
from now on. As for this thug, shoot him!”

As the guards stepped aside, Triad drew her weapon and blew his
brains out.

“Now listen to me. Find a decent commandant and see to it that things are changed!”

She nodded as the corpse was dragged away.

“Now, get us back to the hotel. Grant and I have things to discuss.”

She led them back to the jeep as stunned prisoners watched them depart.

Once they were safely within their upper apartment, Grant gave him a telling off.

“What are you doing? That ruddy woman smells a rat. As for having that man shot...”

“He deserved it mate. No one here questions my authority.”

“Perhaps not, but you must be careful.”

“I usually am. So let me size things up. They have some kind of resistance movement.”

“You heard her Charly. A small force. Probably not strong enough to remove this lot.”

“Unfortunately it is all we have to work with mate. Before we leave this hell hole, I’m going to bring it crashing down around their ears!”

“You really love sticking your oar in.”

“Why not eh? Life is far more exciting that way.”

Ep 2

He raced to the rear window and gently opened it.

“Now what are you up to?”

“If these resistance chaps are good, they will have this building under surveillance. So when I leave, they will notice.”

He glanced down at the drainpipe.

“I’m not going down there mate.”

Charly glanced at him.

“What do you think Triad will do to you, when she discovers that Caesar has gone?”

“Damn you for being so ruddy persuasive.”

As Charlie climbed out, his loyal friend quickly followed. They slowly climbed down the pipe, fearing that it would separate from the wall.

Once upon the ground, they raced off, under the very noses of the security forces. Reaching the relative safety of the nearest building, they headed towards Southside.

“How can we be sure that the warehouses are still there?”

Charly stopped.

“There is always one stable area my friend. The town has not really changed. Only the damn residents. Now stop asking stupid questions and get moving.”

As they reached a junction, a dark vehicle drew up and the side door was thrown open. A gunman shouted, “Inside now!”

The car raced off but did not head for the warehouses. Instead of this, they raced to the north side before pulling into a side street. At the second home, they stopped. The gunman was in no mood for pleasantries.

“Head for that door. One false move and it’s curtains.”

The home looked pretty run down as they were roughly bundled inside.

“How the hell did you get him?” a woman of twenty-four asked.

“Would you believe skulking down the street.”

The prisoners were led into the rear kitchen and ordered to sit. They sighed deeply and picked the chairs around the small table.

“This is not what it seems,” Charly said pleasantly.

The gunman responded by slapping his face hard.

“Shut up Caesar!”

“Watch what you are doing,” Grant said quickly. “I tell you this, you have the wrong man.”

Their captors laughed of course.

“Do you really think that the great Caesar would allow himself to be taken by two half-breeds?”

The gunman was about to strike him again when the woman stopped him.

“Are you claiming to be the long lost twin then?”

“I’m not claiming to be anyone my dear. The fact is we should not really be here.”

“Let's just shoot him now!”

The woman shook her head.

“We are not killers Harry. Just freedom fighters. What were you doing outside the hotel?”

“Would you believe trying to contact you?” Grant said.

“This must be a trap,” Harry said dashing to the window.

“It’s no trap,” Charly insisted. “We had to shin down a drain pipe to get here.”

When Harry returned he shook his head.

“See what I mean?”

The woman thought this over.

“Look, I don’t know what’s going on but it feels wrong.”

“At last,” Charly said shrugging his shoulders. “We want these fascist stuffed as much as you do.”

“Perhaps if you had stayed inside, you could have done us a favour?” Harry said.

“Look Harry, it’s obvious that Triad believes that he is Caesar. Otherwise, they would be dead by now. What I don’t understand is how?”

“It would take far too long to explain,” Charly said. “What we need dear is a plan.”

The woman smiled.

“We always have one of those.”

“Triad told us you were a small force,” Grant said.

“Not as small as she thinks,” Harry said.

“That is good news. Has the town been sealed off yet?”

“Yes it has Charly,” the woman said. “The thing is that most of our unit is already here.”

“Well now we can’t lose,” Charly declared. “With the top brass within the hotel, we could decapitate the ruddy lot of them.”

“That is what we think,” the woman said.

Grant however had reservations.

“Say we succeed tonight. What then? They will simply be replaced.”

“That’s where you are wrong mate,” Harry said softly. “We have contacts within the military just waiting for the call.”

Now Charly was really happy. Jumping off the chair, he yelled, “Then we strike at midnight!”

As time rolled on, Triad and her henchmen remained blissfully unaware that their ‘leader’ had gone. The woman coordinated the three-pronged strike via a short wave radio as Charly and Grant ate a last meal.

“It’s almost time,” the woman said. “Sure you want to come?”

“Wild horses could not stop me dear. There is one thing though.
After we leave, our counterparts will reappear at once. Give them the required respect.”

Harry grinned.

“We will enjoy that mate.”

They slipped out silently as the truck bomb began to make its leisurely way toward the Crown Hotel. As they took up position, it began to make the terminal run. The guards opened up at once, killing the driver. As it raced toward the entrance, alarm klaxons sounded.

“Now!” the woman shouted and three squads sprang into the open firing wildly.

The driverless truck smashed into the front entrance, and went up in a bright orange fireball. Bullets flew in all directions as the fighters sprayed the remaining guards.

Elsewhere that night, military allies seized control of key points throughout the country. Heavy fighting would continue but within a week, the coup was over.

For this regime, history had at last run its course.

Standing once more within the cemetery, Charly and Grant prepared to depart.

“Now remember, they will arrive almost at once.”

“I heard you the first time Charly,” the woman said.

“What do you think went wrong earlier?”

“Well Grant, a solar eruption is my prime suspect.”

He put on the ring once more and as the vortex opened, they made it home. A few seconds later, Caesar and his evil sidekick appeared.

“Who the hell are you?” the emperor demanded.

“Your worst nightmare,” Harry hissed as he pulled the trigger.

Mike had seen bodies before and realised that there was nothing that he could do.

“Commodore? I need you on deck E pronto. We have a serious problem.”

He dashed into the apartment and looked for the source but everything looked normal. As he returned to the corridor, the commodore appeared.

“What the hell has happened here?”

“I really don’t know sir. Nothing in there could have caused that.”

“I wonder if it is connected to that radiation burst?”

Mike knew nothing of that, so the commodore explained.

“We detected it off our port bow just minutes ago. Perhaps it penetrated the hull?”

“I doubt that sir. Everyone on this deck would look like her including me.”

“Perhaps you are right. Tell the doc to carry out an autopsy eh? Keep me informed.”

The bridge remained quiet as a couple of hours went past. When Mike entered, the commodore was pleased to see him.

“The doc reckons that she died from severe radiation burns sir. That is just not possible.”

“I tend to agree with you Mike. There is nothing down there that could have caused that.”

“Do you want me to step up security?”

“Not for the moment eh? Hopefully this will just be a freak incident. Don’t want to cause a panic.”

Mike returned to his duties a little more worried than usual.

As David prepared for his badminton match with the droid, he remembered the last one with some distaste. The droid had successfully wiped the floor with him.

He checked his racket for the final time as the droid waited for the human to start.

David gazed at the gleaming but emotionless machine. He flicked the shuttlecock and watched as it sailed over the net. The droid caught it easily of course, hitting it back with some force.

David hit that one back as the droid countered. This sent the fit man running for the left corner, which he reached a second too late.
The droid said, “One,” before waiting for the next strike.

David struck hard this time, but watched as his opponent caught it easily. He launched it straight at the net and David thought that they would collide. He was rather annoyed therefore when it landed on the floor just a metre from it.

“Two.”

David smiled ruefully as he readied for the next attempt. As he flicked it hard, a glimmer of light caught his attention. Gazing up, he saw a very strange sight indeed. A large and luminous shape with tendrils hanging from the bulbous top had taken up residence in the far corner.

“What do you think that is?”

The droid stopped playing and gazed up at the unusual visitor.

“Security alert.”

Almost as soon as the droid had said these words, the creature shot down and its tendrils brushed the droid’s head. David was horrified as the machine exploded.

“Security!”

As guards dashed to the badminton court, the hapless player made for the exit. The creature hurtled toward him, tendrils preparing to strike. Realising the danger, David dived to the floor just as the guards arrived.

“Open fire!”

Sonic blasters opened up as the creature retreated. Mike was surprised that they had no effect. He watched helplessly as it passed through the bulkhead.

“You alright mate?”

“I was until that thing arrived,” he gasped. “What the hell was it?”

“No idea. Bridge? Issue condition red. We have an intruder.”

Klaxons duly sounded across the ship and worried citizens made for the safety of their homes. The commodore met Mike soon after and heard the report.

“Seems as though you were right sir. Our weaponry was useless.”

“We cannot take any chances Mike. Search every deck and talk to our scientist.”

Mike smiled.

“You think that he can help?”

“I just hope so. After what happened here, that thing is a real menace.”

Mike soon located the eccentric. A man of sixty and completely bald, he spent his time coming out with outlandish theories. When Mike entered, he knew something was up.

“First time those klaxons have been used. I take it we have unwelcome guests?”

“We lost a droid and one of our people professor.”

“You had better tell me about it.”

After Mike had relayed the events, the scientist rubbed his square chin.

“It is certainly a highly developed creature that spends most of its time in space. I would speculate it came from that radiation burst.”

“What I saw was impervious to the blasters.”

“Perhaps we collided with an egg cluster?”

“So there could be more than one of these things?”

“Very possibly. Now, it was last spotted in the badminton court yes?”
Mike nodded.

“Hmm. The next deck down is the engineering section. I think we
should go there.”

A sudden thought flashed through Mike’s mind.

“If it damages the pulse drive our voyage is finished.”

“Indeed it would be. Now let us make haste eh?”

F deck was deep within the ship and entirely manned by crew. It was felt that droids were unsuited for the delicate job of ensuring the stability of the drive system.

As Mike arrived, the bulbous creature drifted through the bulkhead and made straight for the drive chamber.

“Run for it now!”

The engineers needed no second telling and rapidly made for the exits. Mike held his blaster tight, hoping he did not have to use the useless thing.

“Really fascinating,” the professor muttered.

“Is that all you can say? How the hell do we stop it?”

The creature floated in front of the chamber plate but appeared in no hurry to damage it.

“Try negotiation,” the professor suggested.

“You want me to talk to it?”

“How else can we learn?”

Mike edged forward and said slowly, “We are humans. This is our drive system. Without that we are helpless.”

The creature wobbled a little but otherwise ignored him.

“Damn stupid idea,” he hissed.

“Let me try?”

Before Mike could stop him, the professor was making his way straight at the enemy. He watched as the creature’s tendrils started rising.

“Watch yourself!”

A tendril struck and the scientist screamed before collapsing. Mike unleashed his weapon as the creature simply floated toward him.

Mike dashed inside the lift and as it rose rapidly, called the bridge.

“Commodore...Shut the drive system down. The damn thing has taken control.”

As soon as the power was cut, the great vessel began to drift, though remaining at the same velocity. Upon the bridge, the crewmen watched the dials with increasing alarm.

“We need the stabilisers sir. Without those we will turn over.”

“Not yet. We need to give Mike more time.”

Back on E deck, the security guard was in quite a quandary. He called in reinforcements whilst desperately racking his brains.

As he mulled things over, he remembered the late professor’s words.
He suddenly gasped and contacted the bridge.

“Commodore. We have to reroute.”

“What are you talking about Mike?”

“The professor reckoned we had collided with an egg cluster. That creature may thing we have kidnapped it.”

The commodore thought quickly.

“Activate the drive system and bring the manoeuvring thrusters back on line.”

“Ay sir.”

“Now take us back to the location of that radiation burst.”

The great vessel slowly stabilised, turning towards its new target. Deep within the ship, the creature seemed to sense that something was happening.

Mike’s team arrived and they descended to F deck once more. They simply watched as the strange animal bobbed in front of the drive chamber.

“Nothing is happening,” Mike hissed.

The ship reached the exact spot and a crewman said, “We are detecting another radiation burst sir.”

“Don’t worry about it. Mike, what’s happening?”

The security guard waited a moment and saw with relief as the creature drifted through the exterior bulkhead and back into space.

“It’s gone sir.”

The commodore smiled.

“Bring us around. All ahead full.”

As the dark skies were rent by flashes of terrifying lightning, the horse and cart made its weary way toward the castle. The rain lashed down without pause, a rain that had now lasted a thousand years. To the right stood the hills and their warren of paths.

“How much further do we have to go?” the young lad asked.

“Not much further my boy. The old king will be pleased to see us.”

“Why he wants these potatoes I’ll never know,” the young lad said.

The father scowled as the cart rumbled on.

“You know that he has run out son. We will get paid handsomely for this little lot.”

“I’m soaked father.”

“Tis the way of life now son. Born under the storm and die under it too.”

“Will it never end father?”

“How long is a piece of string?”

They saw a fallen tree blocking their way and the father carefully manoeuvred the cart around it. As they passed, he saw the charred wood.

“What could have caused that?” the miserable boy asked.

“Lightning strike I should think.”

A rumble ripped the sky and the sound of huge beating wings grabbed their attention. Looking skyward, they saw a scaly creature with huge wings and a swishing tail.

“Run for it boy!”

The lad had only gone a few steps before they ball of fire enveloped them.

King Henry the Ninth was sitting within his chambers when the guard rushed in.

“Sorry sire but our patrol has found the missing cart.”

“I hope the merchant has a decent explanation for his lateness.”

The guard looked grim.

“They are charred to the bone sire.”

The king stood from his throne and looked at the armour-suited man.

“Fetch my steed and get Charly will you? I need his council on this.”

“Should I assemble the knights’ sire?”

The monarch nodded his consent.

When Charly and Grant arrived, the king gave the bad news.

“Are you sure my liege?”

“Yes Charly I’m sure. What else could be responsible?”

“I admire your candour sir but really. A...”

The king watched his dragon impersonation and laughed aloud.

“You never cease to amaze me Charly.”

“As a matter of fact sire, I never cease to amaze myself.”

Grant smoothed down his too familiar poncho and stroked his long grey beard.

“How though? I mean...Dragons?”

Charly nodded.

“I know what you mean mate. Back in our day you’d get locked up for even thinking it.”

“These things are real,” the king insisted. Obviously one survived our cull.”

“You tried to exterminate them?” Charly asked.

“We found their nest and smashed the eggs. That was ten long years ago.”

Grant glanced at him.

“Seems that mommy is annoyed.”

“Most likely mate. What’s your plan sire?”

“To do battle of course.”

The friends shook their combined heads.

“Without air support you will be massacred sire. The ruddy thing will dive bomb you.”

“That may be true but what other alternative is there. Do you wish my castle burnt to the ground?”

Charly shook his head.

“That would be a terrible tragedy sire. May I suggest an alternative strategy?”

The well-meaning king nodded.

“First of all we need nets. Large ones. Then your pike men can toss it over the wretched animal before your knights finish it off.”

“A good plan but with one flaw,” Grant said gloomily.

“What flaw?”

“We can’t eh, fly you see.”

Charly thumped his arm hard.

“The dragon will be occupied by something a little more important.
How large are the eggs sire?”

They king spread his hands as Charly smiled.

“About the size of an ostrich egg then. I know you have those in the storeroom. Simply take one with us. I’ll carry it.”

The monarch beamed.

“I love that plan. My pike men will stand along the crags as that devil tries to grab it.”

“Precisely sire.”

Grant gave one of his warning glances.

“Whatever is the matter with you?”

Grant said one word.

“Boom.”

The small army had left the safety of the castle and were making
their way to the scene of the terrible attack. The pike men had broken off in the direction of the crags as Charly carried the substitute egg.

As Grant walked at his side he said, “That damn thing shall have us for breakfast.”

“You really think so mate. I’m smarter than that you know. I do have a trick up my sleeve.”

Grant grimaced.

“Then I wish you’d tell me.”

“Silent you two,” the mounted king demanded. “We are nearing the spot.”

Surrounded by his knights whose lances reflected the lightning strikes, the monarch sensed approaching danger.

“Tis coming Charly.”

“Break formation then sire.”

The monarch and his troops scattered as planned, leaving Charly and Grant to face the loathsome and revengeful mother.

As the dragon began its bombing run, the pair had nearly reached the crags when the creature spotted the danger. It unleashed balls of fire at the crags turning the pike men into human torches.

Charly and Grant were horrified as the creature swooped around and made straight for them.

Grabbing his friend by the arm, Charly fumbled inside his pocket. Grant took the egg as the enraged mother closed in for the certain kill.

Charly finally found the wretched ring and pushed it onto his finger. As the vortex opened up, they were sucked through.

Charly had not expected to collide with the tree when they both arrived, and as he lay there dazed, Grant pointed.

“Damn thing has followed us mate!”

Charly stood up angrily.

“Where the hell has the farm gone? Which idiot planted these trees?”

“Had we better warn Triad? She’ll want to know about this.”

“Come on then Grant. Let’s get to the station eh?”

The desk sergeant was filling in a number of forms when the friends ran through his door.

“We need to see the officer in charge right now,” Charly panted.

The bemused sergeant gazed at their brown woollen clothes and smiled.

“Been to a fancy dress party sir?”

Charly glared at him.

“Do you know who I am?”

“I haven’t the faintest sir.”

“Tell the officer in charge that Charly is here. Now!”

DI Holland and his colleagues were discussing the latest budget cuts, when the door opened and the sergeant popped through.

“Sorry to bother you sir. There are a pair of right nutters at my desk demanding to see you.”

The DI glanced up.

“Did they give their names?”

“One calls himself Charly sir.”

The name meant nothing to him. He was about to dismiss the officer when Peters intervened.

“He’s important sir. I’ve seen him in action. If he has returned, it means but one thing. Trouble.”

As the DI walked into the waiting area, Charly saw Peters with some relief.

“Glad to see you again mate. We have a dragon on the loose.”

The gent smiled at him.

“Hello Charly.”

“You don’t believe this? Triad would.”

As the stunned coppers looked on, Peters nodded.

“It would take that to bring you back.”

He dashed into the office and dialled the seven-digit number.

At a disused Yorkshire airbase, a tall but slim woman in a dark suit had just walked in when the phone rang.

“Hello Peters, how is Foxley?”

She paused.

“Would you slow down, the lines garbled. For a moment I thought you said dragon.”

She listened to the terrified caller.

“You did say dragon, okay. What’s that? Charly? I’m on my way. Tell that DI that Charly is in charge.”

She rushed out and shouted to a passing officer, “Assemble the team, code Alpha 1. Contact RAF strike command. I’ll talk to them as soon as we are airborne.”

The officer saluted and ran to raise the alarm.

When Peters returned to the foyer, the DI was none too pleased by the transfer of power.

“Sorry sir,” Peters warned. “Emergency powers act 1939.”

Charly beamed as events began to unfold elsewhere.
 
Ep 2

BA 244 was cruising at 24000 feet en-route from Glasgow International to Heathrow, London. A short flight of four hours, the captain was chatting to a stewardess about the onboard drinks.

Autopilot was in charge of course, as well as the ever vigilante co-pilot.

As the chatter continued a flash message from air traffic control brought everyone to an appalled silence.

“To all aircraft, special message from strike command. Be on the lookout for a dragon. Current heading north at altitude 20 thousand.”

“This must be a joke,” the captain said. “Ask for confirmation.”

The junior co-pilot put through the call and received an exasperated response.

“RAF strike command confirms hostile at 21 thousand and climbing.”

The captain glanced at the shocked stewardess. Get everyone into the crash position now. We may have to do a bit of aerobatics.”

As she ran out the co-pilot pointed.

“I see it sir, but I still can’t believe it.”

As the winged creature closed in, the captain slammed the stick forward. This action disengaged autopilot as the aircraft nosed down.

“Hang on to your pants,” the captain said calmly. “This thing has our scent.”

He threw the plane into a roll as a fireball streaked past.

Within the cabin, terrified passengers and staff screamed in terror.

“She’s gaining sir.”

“Let’s try this then.”

He hauled the stick back, sending the plane into a rapid ascent.
This manoeuvre managed to dodge an incoming fireball but the creature had now judged its next move exactly. As the port wing raised itself, a fireball smashed into the cabin section.

In the control tower, the ground link was lost forever.

Within the sleek black copter, Triad and the armed troops were tracking events by the second.

“Damn it. We lost an aircraft.”

As with all military copters, this was jet propelled and was accelerating towards its intended destination.

“I want tornadoes in the air now!” Triad barked. “To hell with prime ministerial authority mate. In this crisis I’m in charge!”

The dragon had seen the broken plane breaking into fragments and plummeting to earth, before swooping towards the ground in search of new targets.

As its keen vision pierced the thin cloud cover, it spotted the southbound train hurtling along the track. The passengers never saw the creature, even as their world disintegrated.

The two tornadoes pilots were scanning their combat acquisition system as the jets streaked towards the elusive enemy.

“Tango 1, confirm target at fifteen thousand.”

When the confirmation came back the co-pilot yelled, “I have him skipper!”

The tornadoes attacked line abreast, unleashing their lethal air-to-air missiles. The dragon detected them at once, diving earthward at a truly terrifying rate. As the missiles closed in, the creature suddenly flipped and headed skywards once more.

The weapons had never been designed to carry out such a manoeuvre and at fifty feet, streaked down before detonating with disastrous results.

Horrified onlookers saw their school go up in a sheet of brilliant yellow flame.

Overhead, the creature tracked the jets and soon closed in. Diving out of the upper clouds it unleashed ball after ball. It watched as first one, then the other plane, was scattered across the blue sky.

Within the copter, Triad held her cheeks within sweating palms.

“We seem to be losing. It’s now heading for Foxley. God help them now.”
 
Ep 3

As these events were unfolding, Charly was dictating his orders.

“First thing we do is to ensure the safety of the populace. That goes for the DI and Andrew as well. Your predecessors lost their lives because they ignored me. Don’t let it happen twice.”

“I understand,” the DI said. “What do you want?”

“Activate the siren. That at least will clear the streets.”

Holland turned to his sergeant.

“Do it!”

As shoppers crowded the sales, the sirens warbled into life.
Everyone who could remember the previous year ran for the safety of home.

As police cars raced through the streets with sirens blaring, the rest of the people stampeded in blind terror.

Within the station complex, a nervous silence had descended.

“What are our chances?” Grant asked.

Charly shook his head.

“The day of the dragon has arrived mate. That damn thing could turn Foxley into burnt mince in an instant.”

“So,” the DI said coldly. “The great Charly is stumped!”

“Of course not. Why do you think Grant is holding that ruddy egg?”

“How is that going to help?”

“I need to contact Triad now.”

He rushed to the office and got through easily.

“What’s your ETA?”

“15 minutes.”

“That might just be in time. Now please say yes to this. Is that copter of yours fitted with hellfire missiles?”

“Of course Charly. Why do you ask?”

Charly grinned and told her his plan.

Dashing back to the foyer, he took possession of the egg. He then handed the sapphire ring over to Grant.

“If I don’t come back make sure that you use it mate.”

“Of course.”

“What are you up to?” Peters asked with deep concern.

Charly gritted his teeth.

“I really don’t have time mate. I need a patrol car though.”

With the keys inside his palm, Charly dashed outside and was soon racing across town at breakneck speed. At the cross roads he slewed across the road, smashing a traffic light before veering on once more.

The cemetery soon came into view and he gunned the engine. The car hurtled toward the old Norman tower of the church and at the last moment, he slammed the brakes on.

The car slewed and stopped as he dashed out and made for the door.

Reaching the bell at last, he gazed out toward the sky.

“Come and get your damn egg!”

He held it high as the dragon scented the missing article. Little did it know that it was a not its egg. As it circled, Charly radioed the approaching copter.

“Are you ready Helen?”

“We are Charles. Make sure that you are clear first.”

“To hell with that! Fire on my command.”

He watched as the dragon swooped straight at him. Seconds passed.

“Now fire Helen!”

As two hellfire missiles streaked down, the dragon flew into their flight path. Charly threw himself from the tower, as the hellish explosion ripped the dragon and it apart.

Quite happy here ta...Spooks don't bother me..Can deal with odd knife or two...

Author: Everything that you have read has happened to me. In my flat..Though over many years..Not in one night as happens here...

The only fiction is the reporter and her demise...

The female reporter was tall and slim. The ginger hair contrasting sharply with her dark clothing. She had long been a thorn in the side of DI Nixon, and was determined to do the same to his successor.

Tonight, with Trafford the lucky cameraman in tow, she stood in a darkened flat speaking directly to camera.

“It is said by many that a demon appeared inside this spooky bedroom, and that the former owner was later involved with military intelligence. I don’t know about that, but rumours of a ghost persist.”

She paused for breath.

“Friends say that a rosary hung over the kitchen door to ward off evil spirits. Others that he was a harmless fool. As for Charly himself? Some say that he married a stripper and left town. Others talk among themselves about his brutal murder.”

The camera stopped whirring as she left the dark bedroom and walked into the sad and empty lounge.

“You don’t really believe these stories?” Trafford asked.

“After that wolf attack I’m a bit more open minded these days.”

“When we capture a ghost on camera, you can do the interview.”

He chuckled at the crazy thought as she just scowled.

“It is a spooky place though.”

“All dark and empty homes are love. This is no different you know.”

She was about to agree when the toilet door slammed suddenly.

“What the hell was that?”

Trafford looked into the short hall.

“Just a breeze. The door was probably a little open that’s all.”

The woman entered the hall once more and shook her head.

“No breeze here mate.”

“Why not open it then?”

She pulled the door open as the cam light shone inside.

“This would be a great time to do a piece,” he added.

She calmed herself and said quietly, “Only moments before, this door
slammed on its own. Is someone or perhaps something with us tonight?”
She had just finished when a breeze ruffled her short hair.

“Did you feel that? My hair was touched.”

“Get a grip honey. You are letting your imagination run away with you.”

She looked at the empty bath and heard a distinct tap.

“Imagination my arse Trafford.”

“Try the rear bedroom,” he suggested. “We may catch that ghostly music the neighbours complain about.”

She steadied herself and entered the second but smaller bedroom.
Charly had used this as a music room, as Christine had slept peacefully upon the headrest of a favourite chair.

“We are now in the so-called music room that has the reputation of keeping neighbours awake at three in the morning. Will the Beatles play for us I wonder?”

She held the mike as the camera whirred but nothing was picked up.

“I’ll try the kitchen eh? Supposed to be the most active place.”

Just as they entered it, soft music drifted from the vacated bedroom. The reporter yelped and activated the mike at once. As they remained silent, the music drifted into silence.

“Did we get that?” she asked.

He checked the cam and nodded.

“I would not have believed it, had I not heard it myself,” Trafford said.

“We got a real spook mate.”

She was smiling now, gazing at the gas heater bolted to the far wall.

“Ready?”

He nodded.

“We just caught ghost music and now wait inside the supposedly haunted kitchen. Loud taps and soft whispers have been reported here. Will we be lucky I wonder?”

She waited a few moments until a terrific crack from the wall sent her running and stumbling into the lounge.

“Don’t you dare play that!”

The cameraman smiled.

“That was really great. Real life you see. Live response. We could get a prize for this.”

“What do you think caused that then?”

Trafford shook his head.

“I really have no idea. Certainly not natural.”

She turned, looking into the empty air. With failing nerves she whispered, “Are you the ghost sir?”

There was no reply.

They positioned themselves just in front of the balcony door and prepared for another recording.

“There is a story of this door opening on its own, despite being locked. As you can see, it’s locked tonight.”

A sudden bang rocked the room and the door opened a crack.

“Oh crikey!” she screamed as she jumped aside.

“This is unbelievable,” Trafford said excitedly.

She closed it again and tried to compose herself. Then she stopped and shivered.

“It’s turned really cold in here. Can you feel that?”

The cameraman nodded.

“That door was open though. Probably skewed it a little.”

She thought this over as a cold breeze ruffled her dress.

“That wasn’t natural mate.”

“I agree. Why not try the kitchen again. Remember the story?”

“Okay.”

Feeling uneasy now, she trotted back and stood where the small box
freezer used to stand.

“Are you ready?”

“Three, two, one...One friend of Charly who wishes to remain nameless, claims that as Charly knelt by the freezer a knife shot from the rear cooker and landed blade down at his left hand knee.
Charly had put it upon that cooker only minutes before. Is it true I wonder?”

She stepped back and breathed heavily.

“Getting scared are we?”

She tried smiling but it died.

“Want to call it a night Trafford?”

“Yeah, why not.”

As she stepped away, a silver knife appeared from nowhere and landed near her left foot. The cameraman nearly fainted with shock.

“I caught that on film! I caught it!”

“I need to get out of here now!” the woman said.

They entered the hall as the lounge door knocked thrice. She whirled around in sheer terror as the sound of running water came from the water closet.

The cameraman kicked the door open, his camera whirring loudly.
Water was pouring into the bath from the taps. As steam rose and the gas boiler activated they stared in abject terror.

“Let’s run for it!” she screamed.

With all signs of professional decorum gone now, she raced to the front door and pulled at the latch.

“It ruddy well won’t budge!”

As Trafford tried to help, the old wardrobe door slammed loudly.
The woman screamed as the cameraman said, “I’m going to check that.”
He dashed into the main bedroom where the wall unit stood and saw it sliding back and forth.

“Karen! Get your ruddy *** in here right now!”

She entered reluctantly and saw the awful truth for herself.
As they gazed, something rose behind them and the temperature dropped markedly.

“Oh God no...” Karen whispered glancing behind.

Sunlight was streaming through the unprotected window as DI Holland, Sergeant Andrew, and Peters, stared at the blood-spattered walls, and the broken bodies from whom that blood had come.

“What do you think?” the DI asked.

“Murder and suicide,” Peters said calmly.

The DI was shocked.

“This is a supposedly haunted flat. There is a mystery here.”

“This is one mystery that we should leave well alone,” Peters said gruffly. “I’m off to bed, see you later.”

“What do we do sir?”

“You heard the man sergeant. Murder and suicide. Case closed."

Kincaid was driving through the night, determined to reach his destination within the hour. A lorry driver by trade, his ten wheeler had a special cargo tied down behind the modern cab.

“Whoever buys that cabinet must be stark raving mad.”

The nineteenth century cabinet was indeed expensive. Made from maple wood, the owner of ‘Times of old’ at Foxley had been lucky to acquire it at the auction.

As the truck approached from the Southside, the driver spotted someone standing in the middle of the dark road.

“What a nutter,” the driver muttered as he slowed down.

Through the glare of the brilliant headlights. He saw the woman hitchhiker walking around to the passenger side. As he opened the door, she stood there smiling.

“Can I have a lift mate?”

“Where are you going at this time of night?”

“The Crown Hotel at Foxley. I won’t be any trouble.”

“Hop in then.”

The woman was around twenty-five and dressed in a long heavy coat. A backpack was firmly clamped to her shoulders as she seated herself.

“You are pretty lucky my dear. I don’t usually pick up hitchhikers.”

The woman smiled.

A year had now passed since the battle and the town had finally pulled itself together. Baker Farm had gone of course. In its place fast growing trees had been planted, which restored the rugged nature of the hill.

At the police station, the new DI and his sergeant had been lumbered with a short military type from military intelligence.

The DI was a heavyset drinking man whilst his sidekick was a tall, slim teetotaller. Something his boss could never understand.

“Seems quiet this morning Andrew,” the DI said casually.

“A bit too quiet sir.”

As if on cue, the door swung open and an officer poked his head through.

“Something’s up on southside Road sir.”

“Get Peters will you? He might just be interested.”
When the panda car drew up, DI Holland walked over to the stationary lorry as the forensic team picked it over.

“What do we have here doc?”

The flustered medic gazed up.

“A strange one this Holland. The poor chap has been garrotted.”

Doc Peters strolled up and asked, “Mind if I take a peek?”

“Be my guest.”

Peters gazed into the cab at the body of the driver. A piano wire was wrapped around his bloodied throat so tightly, that the material had embedded itself into the flesh.

“Reminds me of a mafia hit,” Peters commented.

DI Holland coughed.

“Not around here chap. What do you think doc?”

“He certainly didn’t do this to himself Holland. Look for a strong bloke of medium height.”

Peters scanned the interior and saw dirt upon the carpet. As he leaned over to get closer, a strong whiff of perfume assaulted his nose.

“You better let the forensic boys check that out,” the DI said. “Don’t want to tread on their toes now.”

Peters gave him a strange look as he sniffed at the corpse.

“You remind me of a dog,” the medic joked.

“Woof.”

Everyone laughed as Peters walked off. Recognising the stance, the DI wandered over.

“I see that you are not satisfied.”

Peters lowered his voice an octave.

“When was the last time that a lorry driver wore female perfume?”

“Are you sure?”

“Definitely mate. Parisian I think. What’s in the rear?”

“Let’s take a look shall we?”

Forensic had already opened it and looking inside they saw the cabinet.

“Must be for that antiques place,” the DI said softly.

Peters shook his head.

“That rules out robbery as a motive then.”

“Seems likely,” the DI commented.

As they left the scene Peters said, “I need a word with the shop owner. We may learn something there.”

As they climbed into the car, the sergeant raised his eyebrows.

“A right bloodhound eh?”

From the rear, a human dog barked.
 
Ep 2

“Where are you staying?” Andrew asked.

“Grig Street,” Peters replied.

“Where those bedsits are?”

“I live in one of those sergeant.”

“Poor sod.”

“We are nearly there,” the DI said as the car drew into the street.

Stepping out, they saw the grey haired owner sweeping the front door. He glanced up as they approached.

“Hello Holland. Didn’t expect to see you today.”

“Can we have a word inside?” the DI said softly.

They were led into the shop, as Peters gazed around at the expensive objects and the heavy rear desk.

“Do you sell much?” Peters asked fingering a small model Egyptian sarcophagus.

“Once in a while. Take care with that though. It’s genuine.”

Peters put it down gently as the owner waited.

“We found your cabinet sir,” he said quietly. “Sadly it cost the driver his life.”

The owner was shocked.

“What happened to him?”

“A case of piano wire,” the DI replied.

“What a world we live in eh? What do you want to know?”

“Did you have a buyer for it?” Peters asked.

The owner shook his head.

“I intended to keep it here. One thing I can tell you though. Someone would have bought it.”

Peters nodded and strolled outside.

“Learn anything?” the DI asked.

“Not a bit. That is one link is truly broken.”

As darkness fell, the report landed upon the DI’s desk. As he read it, his face fell.

“According to this, there was no one else in that truck. No secondary DNA was recovered.”

“How is that possible?” the sergeant asked.

“It ain’t,” Peters muttered. “Not unless the killer was invisible.”
 
Ep 3

Across town, the young man was nearing the end of his shift. A deliveryman for the town’s only fast food joint, he was hoping to get away on time. As usual though, the customers decided otherwise.

“We have taken a pizza order for the Southside.”

“Who lives there? Nothing but warehouses.”

”Apparently the woman’s car has broken down and she is famished. Here are the details.”

He took the note and the box and wandered out to his waiting moped. Placing the pizza within the rear, red box, he started the long journey towards his last customer.

As he at last drew up, he spotted the woman with her backpack standing by the warehouse entrance. Smiling to himself, he padded over to her.

“Where’s the car then?”

The woman smiled.

“Pick up took it. Thanks for the pizza.”

He waited for the payment to arrive, as she took the box.

“That’ll be a fiver mam.”

The woman tossed the food to the ground and stepped toward him suddenly. Before he could react, the piano wire had throttled the life out of him.

The DI was just about done when the call came through. Grabbing his coat, his team raced to the car and headed for the latest crime scene.

The doc was none too pleased at their arrival.

“The young man stood no chance Holland. Whoever did this was standing directly in front of him.”

Peters examined the wire, noting again the severity of the injury. As he knelt, he breathed in the erotic female odour.

“More perfume?” the DI asked.

“Same as before. The killer is certainly female.”

“Poppycock,” the annoyed doc muttered. “She wouldn’t be strong enough.”

“I’ll be proved right in the end mate,” Peters assured him. “Anything else?”

The forensic officer wandered over.

“We are still checking but so far nothing.”

Peters rubbed his hair.

“Something very strange going on here. Shoes always leave some trace.”

“I tend to agree mate,” the DI said. “What would you suggest now?”

“Perhaps we are looking in the wrong place you know. Any open investigations?”

“DI Nixon was fairly hot on closing cases. My sergeant will check for you.”

Back at the station, Andrew returned with one slim file.

“Only this one sir. Dated five years ago.”

The file was opened and the officer read it aloud.

“So a female backpacker was murdered on Southside Road eh?” Peters muttered.

“Young woman too,” the sergeant commented.

“Did they get the killer?”

“According to this no. Nixon has even left a note attached.”

Peters took it and read the single line.

No witnesses, no suspect!

Peters handed it back.

“Perhaps an appeal for information will still help.”

“After five years?” the DI asked. “DI Nixon was damn good at his job. He would have tried that.”

“People have strange memories you know,” Peters told him. “Something that seems trivial then, turns out to be a case breaker later on.”

The sergeant shrugged his shoulders.

“Worth a try I suppose.”

This line of reasoning completely baffled the DI.

“What about these killings? Who’s going to investigate those?”

Peters smiled.

“We are investigating them. There is a link.”

With that strange statement, the DI left to make a press statement as his colleagues waited.

There had been little response to the new appeal by dawn however, and they decided to call it a day. As they were leaving, a nervous thirty year old waylaid them outside.

“Can I have a word?”

The DI recognised one of the street girls. An old timer shall we say.

“Not now Jennifer. Rather a long day you know.”

“I heard the radio appeal earlier.”

“Why come now?” the sergeant asked suspiciously.

“Fear mainly.”

“So what can you tell us?”

“I was working in Southside then after the cops moved me on. I did see that lovely woman trying to flag down cars without much success. So I decided to give her a hand.”

“You kept this a little quiet,” the DI hissed.

“You’ll find out why.”

She paused for effect.

“As I was saying, I decided to help see. So I lift my ruddy dress to my thighs exposing you know what and this posh car draws up.”

“Then what happened?” the sergeant asked.

“The woman thanked me and climbed inside. Next day I saw in the paper what had happened.”

“What type of car was it?” Peters asked.

The woman smiled.

“A Bentley sir. That judge was driving it.”

This was shattering news indeed.

“How do you know that?” the DI demanded.

“He done me the year before for prostitution. Judge Nelson was his name.”

The colleagues just stared at each other.

“Will you repeat that in court?” the DI asked. “If you do, I’ll see to it the officers never arrest you again.”

The woman smiled.

“That’s an offer that I really want. Ta.”

They climbed into the car and waited a moment.

“That explains the ash deposit that forensic found on her,” the DI muttered. “It came from his ruddy cigar.”

“Is he still practising?” Peters asked.

The DI shook his head.

“Retired last year. He lives in one of those posh homes on Bridge Lane.”

“We better go and get him then,” the sergeant muttered.

The home was indeed a posh one and the old judge was none too pleased at the early call.

“What is this about detective? My ill wife is in bed you know.”

“We really need to talk inside sir,” the DI said gently.

They found themselves inside a large sitting room, done out in the latest fashions. As the judge turned, the DI laid the whole case before him.

They watched as his face turned ashen.

“I eh, never actually meant to kill her you know. She asked me for money you see. I just panicked.”

“Where did you get the piano wire?” Peters asked coldly.

“From my own. I had one in those days. It was in my dash locker waiting to be replaced. It broke you see.”

The DI nodded but hated the suspect none the less. In a solemn voice, he read out the charge. As the sergeant led him to the car, the DI took Peters aside.

“At least we got the right one. So how do we solve the two latest murders?”

Peters smiled gently and whispered, “They are solved Holland. She came back for revenge you see. Now that her killer has been caught, the killings will stop.”

The DI was rather nonplussed by this incredible assertion but decided not to press the point.

After all, he could well be right.

The dark adventures of charly has been published. This story does not appear...Prob add it later...

New story underway today...Back to Foxley...I would love to live there! So much going on! Lucky sods!

Author: Felt bad leaving the cat trapped inside flat..Hence this unexpected adventure...

The dark helicopter approached from the north like a buzzard on the wing. It’s rotor blades slicing through the cold night air with a truly hellish fury. As it descended, a tall thin woman wearing a full, dark suit rushed out.

Behind her came armed troops and a short medical type who wondered why the hell he was there.

The chief constable extended a hand that she took gladly.
“Triad?”
“Who else. I got the report.”

The chief looked worried.

“I can hardly believe the things that I’m being told. Yet here we are and the ruddy morgue is full of medieval bodies.”

“Any casualties?” Triad asked.

“Two of my officers. They died outside the station.Two civilians perished upon the hill. Want to see them?”

Triad nodded coldly as she was led into the grim hospital morgue.

The approaching corridor was full of trolleys and each one was covered in a sheet.

The young mortician was only thirty and for her, this was a major disaster.

“How many more should we expect sir?”

“We are still looking. Triad wants to see our four by the way.”

The grim faced woman opened the cold storage trays and Triad winced.

“DI Nixon and his sergeant I recognise. Charly too.”

“A sword killed Grant and a lance the other one. The officers died from arrow wounds and a mace.”

“What the hell happened in my town of Foxley?” the chief demanded.

“If I knew that chief, I would be somewhere else you know.”

As the bodies were rolled back inside Triad had a thought.

“I understand that Baker farm was the epicentre of all this.”

“Most of the corpses were found there,” the chief said. “Including a women and her ruddy crown.”

“A crown? Are you sure?”

“Definitely. She’s in the corridor. We put the crown in the bank vault. Damn thing is solid gold you know.”

“I don’t need to see the woman,” Triad said. “I’ll have to examine that crown though.”

“Then you had better follow me.”

When they got outside, Triad called Peters across.

“You better bring that analyzer doc. I’m sure we will need it.”

He ran to the copter, and pulled out a small box before heading after her. The waiting troops took up their customary defensive positions around the copter, ready for anything.

When the crown was removed from the vault, the analysis began. They waited with baited breath for the final result.

When it came, the doc looked rather surprised.

“It’s not medieval sir. It has a few modern impurities and others I can’t even recognise.”

“Try guessing then,” Triad urged.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say this came from the future.”

“That’s crazy,” the chief said.

“Not as crazy as medieval knights doing battle in the 21st century,”
Triad reminded him.

“The answer must lie upon that hill,” Triad muttered.

After a pause, she made a decision.

“I’m taking over from here chief. You can do the paper work.”

“How about the bodies?”

She gave him a filthy look.

“Cremate the lot of them and warn the local media to keep their mouths shut.”

As she led the way to the waiting copter, she turned.

“What about Charly’s cat. Christine I think he called it.”

“A kind woman took it in. She’s at forty two, the same block. We had to break the door down.”

Triad nodded sadly.

The military team landed safely upon the scene of that final, tragic battle. The farm stood quietly watching as Triad surveyed the scene.

“Seems so quiet now,” she remarked.

“So what are we looking for?” Peters asked.

“If this theory of yours is true doc, there may be traces here.”

“So you want soil samples do you?”

“That would do nicely.”

As he scoured the blood-soaked trodden dirt, his fingers suddenly came upon something hard.

“Whatever’s this?”

Pulling it free, he rubbed the dirt away and gasped.

“Hey sir, look at this.”

Triad ran over and examined the new find.

“It looks like a woman’s ring.”

“Perhaps it came from that queen?”

Triad thought so too.

“The damn thing’s so clumsy though,” she muttered.

She placed it upon her ring finger and as she did so, a writhing whirlpool suddenly appeared.

“Take it off!” the doc screamed.

Before any of them had a chance to react however, the vortex sucked them in.

Ep 2

On the other side of time, far more than a millennia, the team were unceremoniously dumped upon a sodden Earth. Wrecked during the transfer, the remains of the copter came out like shrapnel. Once it was over, the members of military intelligence picked themselves up.

“Where the hell are we?” Triad shouted through the wretched storm.

“Obviously at the end of the time vortex,” Peters shouted back.

As thick dark clouds rolled overhead, a continuous barrage of
thunder and lightning rent the sky.

“This reminds me of hell,” Triad said as she looked around the barren hillside.

“The ruddy town’s gone,” she said in shock.

A trooper ran over and pointed into the remote distance. The woman screwed her eyes and shook her head in disbelief.

“I don’t know about you doc, but I rather think we have gone backwards.”

Peters stared at what looked like a medieval castle that was some miles distant.

“I would rather be in there than out in this ruddy weather.”

“Let’s go then. Keep those weapons primed.”

They formed a single file and marched towards the waiting stone edifice, unaware that they were being closely watched.

The ground started to dip, when the crossbow bolts smashed into the ground.

“Take cover!”

Everyone hit the ground and Triad tried to see where the shot had come from. Peters took the bolt and gave it a cursory exam.

“Well it's of an ancient design.”

“It certainly fits the bill,” Triad said.

A second volley landed near and a trooper whispered, “There must be more than one mam.”

“Any ideas where they are coming from?”

A trooper pointed to a small dip.

“Open up then. Try a few grenades to flush them out.”

A volley of machine gun fire was quickly followed by explosions, as the grenades went off. Silence followed and Triad gave the order.

The troops broke cover and ran toward the enemy position firing continuously. When they reached it, they saw the broken bodies lying in splinters.

“We got them sir.”

“Make for the castle then. There may be more around.”

As they got closer, they saw the towering walls and the heavily guarded towers and battlements. They slowed down as Triad tried to work out how to approach safely.

“Have a kerchief on you Peters?”

When he handed it over, she suddenly stood in full view of the archers and waived it wildly.

From the battlements a gruff voice shouted, “Approach and be
recognised.”

The troopers quickly joined her as the guards watched with deep suspicion.

“We need entry,” she shouted up. “We are not really your enemy you know.”

The archers lined their bolts up as the front gate rolled up. Twenty armed men bolted toward them and quickly hauled them inside.

“We are friends,” the doc said as they entered the central courtyard.

“You had better be,” a pike man warned. “Drop the weapons.”

Triad nodded and the troopers complied.

“Where you from?”

“Foxley originally. It seems we lost it somewhere.”

The pike man noticed the queen’s sapphire ring and shouted, “Fetch the king. He’ll want to see this.”

The team were now thoroughly confused as the monarch was called for.
Despite the torrential downpour, Triad saw a tall, medium built gent walking from the dryness of the interior. The golden crown looked a little out of place beneath those blue eyes and full cheeks. The body was protected by a suit of gleaming armour, and from the waist hung a jewelled sword belt.

“My name is Henry the Ninth, to whom am I addressing?”

Realising that this was the future, Triad bowed courteously and gave their names.

It seemed that the monarch recognised them. He walked forward and took the woman’s hand.

“Where did you find this prey tell me?”

Triad noted that his own ring was identical.

“Foxley battlefield my liege.”

The king smiled.

“Had you known of its time travel properties I believe that you would still have put it on.”

“We like investigating the unknown,” Peters added.

“Come with me out of this hellish rain then. Bring hot soup for our guests.”

The interior was much dryer and much warmer than the outside world. A square chamber it was with thick tapestries hanging from the walls. The room was dominated by a thick wooden table and a royal throne.

“Please be seated,” the king said happily. “We get too few guests these days.”

After being made comfortable, Triad said, “You don’t seem too surprised to see us.”

The king nodded.

“After leaving your time, I realised that the harlot’s ring had been left behind. It would be found sooner or later.”

“You were fighting the queen then?” Peters asked.

“After her rebellion I had no choice. The battle cost too many lives.”

“I hate to be a silly bugger my liege, but what year is it?”

The king laughed.

“We do not use calendars now my dear. I will say this though; your men could be really useful.”

“The rebellion is still ongoing?” Peters asked.

“There are still groups lurking around.”

“We managed to deal with one of those,” Triad said.

“Glad you did. Gave them hell I hope.”

“There is one thing I’d like to ask, Peters said. “Can we get back to our own time?”

The king nodded.

“The device works in both directions. It will activate again in twelve hours.”

“Whatever you want us to do sire, it cannot last a second longer.”

The soup duly arrived and they tucked in quickly. With it came large brown chunks of fresh bread that was delicious to savour.

As they ate, a thought stirred inside the woman’s brain. She waited
until the meal was finished before daring to ask.

“On what side did Charly fight sire?”

The king nodded his understanding.

“With my forces. He and Grant are brave indeed.”

Triad screwed her eyes at the unusual choice of words.

“I saw their bodies sire,” she said softly.

“You may have done but you still don’t understand.”

“What are we supposed to understand?” the doc asked.

“I think an explanation is in order. Follow me.”

The monarch led them into another chamber and up a rickety staircase. At the first wooden door, he stopped and entered.

“We have guests,” the king said.

Triad walked inside and damn near fainted with shock. Sitting upon a leather sofa was Grant and Charly.

“We wondered when you would arrive,” Charly said grinning.

“How come? I’ve ordered your ruddy cremation.”

“You can blame him,” Grant said pointing at the king. “I’ve been resurrected twice now.”

“You restored life?” the doc asked.

“Do we look dead to you?” Charly asked.

“Someone better explain,” Triad said sitting.

“I returned to do the deed,” the monarch explained. However, they insisted on duplicates being left behind. Apparently they desired to retire.”

“What about my cat?”

Triad looked at him.

“She’s being looked after.”

“She had better. After this little escapade is over I’ll come back with you to collect her.”

“You would prefer to stay here?”

“Why not? You lot don’t really need me. Despite the constant rainstorm, this world is a lot better. No cars you see.”

“I’m sorry to hear that Charly,” Triad said coldly. “Especially after the killing of Nixon and Percy.”

Charly’s face blanched.

“I didn’t know. I told them not to leave the ruddy station.”

“They both died just outside,” she added.

“By the queen’s men?” the king asked.

“We don’t know sire.”

Grant stood up, and stroked his long grey beard.

“That changes nothing. Has the king explained our situation?”

“About the band of rebels? Yes he has,” Peters said.

“They are a little group of upstarts,” Charly said quietly. “Grant and I tracked them to a hideaway only this morning.”

“So why didn’t you deal with them then?” Triad asked.

“We were unarmed as usual. The king was planning an overnight raid.”

“With twelve hours remaining it should be overnight,” the king added.

“You have a plan sire?”

“I intend to take my best knights into that rabbit warren of mountain paths.”

“That really does not sound like a smart thing to do,” Triad advised. They would pick you off.”

“You have an alternate then?” Grant asked.

“A small raiding party would be best. How many are there?”

“Not more than ten,” Charly said. “Heavily armed though.”

Triad looked at the troopers.

“Don’t worry sir. We can handle it.”

The woman smiled as the monarch said, “Then it is agreed. I shall lead you myself.”

“I would rather you stayed here sire,” she said. “I really know what to do. Your presence would be a rather dangerous distraction.”

The king scowled and Charly interrupted.

“I tend to agree sire. She really is the best you know.”

The king paced the stone floor.

“My instinct is to lead but on this occasion I will yield.”

Triad smiled happily.

“Shall we leave at three then?”

When the hour came, the troop left the safety of the castle and set off through the hideous rain for the nearby hills. Grant and Charly wore woollen smocks and hats to keep them from getting drenched to the skin.

Within their trusty hands lay crossbows that they had learned to use during their short stay. Arrows were slung over their backs as they plodded on.

“Does it rain here all of the time?” Triad asked.

“Sure does,” Grant replied. “This world has gone to hell. Brigandia is one of only two countries that still boast a population.”

“What’s the other one?” the doc asked.

“Would you believe France? Less than a million between them though.”

“What happened?” Triad asked.

“A mix of natural and man-made disaster,” Charly explained. “We can’t discuss it though. To be truthful the kings knows little about it.”

“Don’t they have records?” the doc asked.

“Very little survived the disaster,” Charly said sadly. “Did you notice that lake?”

Triad nodded.

“That’s where Foxley used to be,” Charly said grimly.

They reached the paths and began climbing slowly up the hillside.
The troopers readied their weapons as Charly and Grant led the way.

“It’s not much further you know,” Charly whispered. “They have an encampment at the summit.”

As they approached, a bolt struck a trooper’s chest.

His comrades opened fire at the attacker who fell at once before
Charly and Grant led the charge. Bullets and bolts rained in all directions as the rebels bolted.

When they reached the summit, bolts forced the troopers to take cover as fire was returned.

“They don’t like going quietly do they?” Triad asked.

“If you were facing an axe, death by battle seems a lot brighter,” Grant said.

Triad pointed to a small gulley and two troopers ran for it. As covering fire was given, a few grenades helped to keep the enemy down.

“We have them outflanked now,” Triad whispered. “I just can’t kill them though.”

“What have you planned?” Grant asked.

Triad raised her voice and shouted, “This is useless. Throw down your weapons and surrender.”

Only bolts replied to the desperate entreaty.

“You have no choice now,” the doc reminded her.

With a sad expression, she gave the order.

First of all the two troopers ran from the gully as Triad’s second force opened up. With machine guns blazing, the two men reached the enemy position and cleared it out.

An arm was raised to indicate that it was over.

“I don’t want to look at them,” Triad said. “Come on, let’s go home.”

The remaining hours passed quickly enough, and as they stood upon the hill, the ring activated once more. Appearing in their own time,
Triad and the team set off for Foxley.

When Charly saw his smashed door, he was rather annoyed. When Triad located the flat where the cat waited, she knocked gently as Charly hid in the background.

Triad managed to persuade the owner to relinquish the animal before restoring it to its proper owner.

Christine meowed and cried continuously as they made their way back onto the street. Charly gazed at the familiar town and stroked his beloved cat with thanks.

“Will that ruddy ring get you back?” Triad asked handing it to him.

“Don’t doubt it for one second. Grant and I have an archery
competition on the morrow.”

Triad smiled and took his hand.

“Is this really the end?”

“I think so my dear. My life is no longer in this time.”

She watched as he walked away and was surprised when he stopped.

“I damn near forgot.”

He swivelled and tossed the keys to the ancient mini.

“Keep it eh? You know what?”

“No I don’t,” Triad said.

“I don’t know your ruddy name.”

“State secret Charly.”

He shook his head.

“I’ll tell you mine if you go first.”

Triad resigned herself.

“Helen Carter.”

Charly smiled.

“Lovely name by the way.”

“Now your turn. Fair is fair.”

“Charles Olivia Darling.”

“Good God!”

Charly laughed.

“Why do you think I prefer Charly? With a ‘Y’?”

“I know why Charles. I can update my file now.”

“You do that,” he said vanishing into time.