The following excerpts are the first four chapters of The Infinity Bridge--I hope you'll enjoy them enough to check out the full book!
Chapter 1
1.
The emerald beam sizzled through the air and punched a hole straight through the Pinstripe Man’s chest. He stumbled towards Sam and then collapsed onto the ground. Smoke spiralled from his mouth.
Sam ducked as a second beam etched a flaming trail on a car bonnet. He grabbed hold of the slumped Pinstripe Man and dragged him behind the car. He was surprisingly light, considering he was three times Sam’s fourteen years.
The silence in the multi-storey car park was ominous. Sam chanced a look from behind the car. He couldn’t see where the beams were coming from.
‘Sam,’ the Pinstripe Man said. His voice was a whisper. ‘Sam, you have to get my smart-phone, or we’re both dead.’
The hole in the Pinstripe Man’s chest was still billowing smoke. There was a horrible stench of burnt flesh. Sam could hardly believe he was alive, let alone talking.
‘Where is it?’Sam checked the Man’s suit.
‘I dropped it...when I was shot.’
Sam’s heart plummeted. He could see the smart-phone twenty feet away, in the middle of the car park.
‘I... I can’t,’Sam said. ‘I’ll get shot.’ ‘You...must. It’s the only way to stop them.'
A tremor rippled through Sam’s body. The day’s events flashed through his brain. He began to run from behind the car.
The emerald beam sizzled through the air and punched a hole straight through the Pinstripe Man’s chest. He stumbled towards Sam and then collapsed onto the ground. Smoke spiralled from his mouth.
Sam ducked as a second beam etched a flaming trail on a car bonnet. He grabbed hold of the slumped Pinstripe Man and dragged him behind the car. He was surprisingly light, considering he was three times Sam’s fourteen years.
The silence in the multi-storey car park was ominous. Sam chanced a look from behind the car. He couldn’t see where the beams were coming from.
‘Sam,’ the Pinstripe Man said. His voice was a whisper. ‘Sam, you have to get my smart-phone, or we’re both dead.’
The hole in the Pinstripe Man’s chest was still billowing smoke. There was a horrible stench of burnt flesh. Sam could hardly believe he was alive, let alone talking.
‘Where is it?’Sam checked the Man’s suit.
‘I dropped it...when I was shot.’
Sam’s heart plummeted. He could see the smart-phone twenty feet away, in the middle of the car park.
‘I... I can’t,’Sam said. ‘I’ll get shot.’ ‘You...must. It’s the only way to stop them.'
A tremor rippled through Sam’s body. The day’s events flashed through his brain. He began to run from behind the car.
Chapter 2
2.
Ever since he could remember Sam had seen monsters. That wasn’t quite true—he recalled the first time, so he must have been aware of the time before. His dad had just read him Not Now Bernard, a book about a boy who had found a monster in his garden.
Sam’s monster was actually shimmering behind the radiator, but the irony wasn’t lost on him.
He learned very quickly to keep quiet about it. If you told your parents about this sort of thing then they did one of two things: they either smiled then ruffled your hair or they made odd noises, like constipated hens.
Sam’s brother Ben had told them that he also saw monsters. He currently resided in a psychiatric hospital. That had pretty much made up Sam’s mind on the matter.
***
The music in Sam’s room shook the shelves. It filled every corner of the room. It washed over Sam, cloaked him, calmed him.
This is the only way to listen to Green Day, he thought. Volume ten and on your own. He slouched on his bed. His head rested on his backpack, as he waited to leave.
The door crashed open and Ollie, Sam’s step-brother, stormed into the bedroom. Ollie was the diametric opposite of Sam. His hair was trimmed and neat, Sam’s was died black and spiked; his attire was catalogue perfect, Sam’s was black and punk; his build was six foot rugby player, Sam’s was skeletal-thin.
This last trait gave Ollie a certain ability to throw his weight around the house. He jabbed the off button on Sam’s stereo and rubbed his ears in irritation.
‘It’s bad enough you listen to that rubbish, let alone subject me to it.’
‘It drowns out your whinging when it’s loud,’ Sam replied. ‘Anyhow, you’ll get a two week reprieve from me soon enough.’
‘I’m counting down the seconds.’
‘Oh, you’ve learned to count now? Who says private education is wasted on rugby players?’
Ollie growled. ‘You think you’re so smart, don’t you? So how come you’ve got no mates at school, eh Sam?’
‘The selection is pretty poor, given most of them like you, Ollie.’
‘Yeah, sure, tell yourself that.’ Ollie’s lip curled in a sneer. ‘Perhaps it’s the fact you throw fireworks into people’s faces. How stupid was that, vampire-boy?’
Sam flushed and rolled of his bed. Anger boiled in his chest.
‘That wasn’t my fault. It was an accident.’
‘Oh, right! Not jealousy? Baz was our best fly-half and now he’s off school and out for the season.’
‘Well that’ll save him bullying any more kids at school then won’t it?’
Ollie loomed over Sam, his face red. ‘It’s not bullying. There’s a pecking order at school, a hierarchy—like there is in the real world. Not that you’re likely to ever be part of that.’
Sam stomped towards Ollie, his fists clenched. He may get a pasting if he punched his step-brother, but at least he’d feel better.
‘Boys? Are you ready yet?’
Sam’s mother, Jen, had popped her head into the bedroom. The tension in the room dissipated.
‘What’s going on?’ Jen asked.
The two boys shrugged. Ollie shot Sam a glare before leaving. Sam’s mother lingered by the door as he grabbed his backpack.
‘You are all right about going to your dad’s place while we’re away?’
Sam shrugged. ‘It’s preferable to two weeks in Gran Canaria with Ollie throwing a ball at my head on the beach.’
Jen sighed. ‘Let your dad enjoy your moods for a change. We’re going in five.’
Sam took a last look around his bedroom and then followed her out.
***
Big Dave, Sam’s step-father, gunned the Jaguar through the village. He chatted casually over his shoulder to Ollie. In the back seat both Sam and Ollie cringed as the car missed an old lady in the road by a molecule-width.
‘David! Pay attention to the road,’ Jen said. ‘We have to live in the village even if you run over all the grannies here.’
‘What? Oh, sorry, love. Just asking Ollie if he had the DVD of last year’s Grand Slam with him for the journey.’
Sam rolled his eyes. Dave was a bigger, albeit more pleasant, version of Ollie. He sweated sports—his love of everything physical permeated every moment of his day. Every business trip he made had some ulterior connection with a sporting event. To Sam, who was usually the last to be picked for sides during games lessons, this was bewildering at best.
Dave caught Sam’s eye. Oh God, Sam thought, he’s going to try and be nice to me now. I can just feel it.
‘So, matey,’ Dave said. ‘Your dad got anything, er... cool planned for you this fortnight?’
Ollie interjected before Sam could reply. ‘Like leaving you behind when he’s played a gig?’
‘Ollie!’ Jen scolded. ‘That only happened the once.’
Sam looked out of the window. They were out in the open countryside now, heading down the lanes towards York. The sky was a sinister battleship grey. There was a storm coming.
‘Oh sorry, Jen, I can see how,’ Ollie said. ‘Finish gig. Guitar... check. Six-pack of beer... check. Son tucked away at back because he’s under-age... um, not check.’
‘C’mon, Ollie, you’ll not see Sam for two weeks, let’s be nice, eh?’ Dave said.
Ollie snorted, but didn’t tease further. He’d been furious with Sam ever since the incident with Baz and the firework. Sam didn’t really care—he preferred it when the kids at school stayed away from him. It made it easier to cope with the monsters.
For several minutes there was only the rumble of the road in the car. Jen kept glancing back, as if building up the nerve to say something.
‘Er, Sam?’ she asked ultimately. ‘Are you going to try visit Ben whilst we’re away? The hospital isn’t far from your dad’s shop.’
A sick sensation stirred in Sam’s belly. ‘I’m not sure, Mum. I’ll... see.’
‘It’s just he... he misses your visits. He’s had a bit of a relapse and they’re keeping a closer eye on him. It might help...’
‘I said I’ll see!’ Sam snapped. His heart was thumping and he felt light-headed and nauseous.
Dave and Jen exchanged glances. Sam struggled to draw breath.
‘Stop the car, Dave,’ Sam said.
‘What? Don’t be...’
‘Stop the damn car!’ Sam yelled.
Dave screeched to a halt at the edge of the lane and Sam scrambled out of the car. He leaned over a dry stone wall and gulped down the air. He became aware, after a minute, of his mum stood by him.
‘Sam, I’m sorry.’
‘No, Mum, I’m sorry. I’m just... I just struggle with seeing Ben. That’s all. I’ll try and see him. Promise.’
Jen nodded and put her arm around Sam. Her perfume was fragrant and warm. He rested his head on her shoulder and looked past her into the field they had stopped next to.
Twenty feet away the air was rippling and curling. Sam could see a hint of motion within the distortion. He turned his head away; he didn’t want to ruin the moment by watching monsters.
***
Dave pulled the Jaguar into a ‘park and ride’ on the outskirts of York. He sat in the car with Ollie whilst Sam gave his mum an awkward hug outside. The bus was arriving nearby.
‘The firework thing wasn’t my fault, Mum. He threw it to try and hurt the first former and I just knocked it back towards him.’
‘I know, Sam,’ Jen said. ‘It’s just with all the other problems at school, I think it was the last straw. You have to appreciate how people can misunderstand you... misjudge you.’
Sam nodded and hoisted his backpack onto his shoulders. He slipped on his earphones and made to leave. Jen touched his arm.
‘Sam, Ben wrote you a letter. I understand if you don’t want to see it.’
Sam took the letter from her silently. He walked towards the bus queue.
***
Sam wobbled down the central aisle of the bus as it drove off. He was well prepared for the stares that accompanied his appearance. Two old ladies, faces bright red under their huge fur hats, tutted at him like metronomes. Six tourists gawped at him as if he was one of York’s many attractions.
He sat at the rear of the bus and turned up the volume on his iPod. Several fidgety minutes passed before he tugged out the letter from his leather jacket.
Big Ben
One of the wards (I forget the name)
Bootham Park
Er...today
Hi Sam Spam
You still stealing Mum’s mascara you EMO boy, you? Only teasing. I’m jealous cos if I did it they’d double my medicine.
Anyhow, thought I’d write you a letter. Supposed to be therapy or something daft. Dude—everyone is bonkers in here! Even the staff! I reckon the only way to tell between staff and patients (they call us clients sometimes) are the badges. They’ve moved me to a more secure unit as the old brain’s gone a bit haywire. Reckon I need an upgrade.
Sorry about the handwritten letter. Can’t handle computers at the best of times. Might sound weird, but it feels like something’s alive on the internet. Watching. Waiting. Not evil, as such, but old. Very old.
(Don’t stress—the docs know I think this. Reckon they read all the letters anyway)
They’ve moved me to a secure area because my monster visions are on the increase—think there must be a World of Warcraft party going on in York! The medicine kind of helps. It sort of dulls things, makes it all fuzzy and seem less important. I feel like an old photo in a multi-coloured world.
(Just to re-iterate I do see stuff other than monsters, waving at me through those wounds in the world).
Days are a bit dull on the secure unit. The telly upsets half the patients so is usually off. Scrabble gets a bit random when your opponent insists FWQZHER is a triple point word. Come visit me, buddy. I miss ya! Make sure u get a pass or they’ll keep you in here with me, what with that crow nest haircut of yours.
Later
Big Ben
***
Sam stared out of the window for a long while as the bus crawled through the traffic towards the city walls. An empty vast void occupied his gut. It had been six months since he had visited Ben and that had not gone well. If he was honest, just seeing Ben terrified him.
The bus stopped to allow some passengers on. Sam clicked through some songs on his iPod. He glanced up to watch them sit.
A girl his own age had got on the bus. Her seat was opposite from his. She was remarkably pretty and carried herself with the poise and confidence of an athlete. Paradoxically, she was dressed in clothes that could be best described as Sunday night period drama. Her neat blouse was tucked under a knitted cardigan. Her grey skirt was below knee and her shoes were as shiny as beetles.
She caught Sam looking at her and she smiled faintly. He blushed and looked away. There was something familiar about her, although he was certain she didn’t go to his school. All the girls there had big hair and designer sunglasses.
Ten minutes later the bus pulled up by the station and everyone stood. The girl carried a bag jammed with books. She’d been reading one by Dostoevsky. Sam doubted he’d be able to read the cover, let alone the book. She alighted from the bus and strode off into the crowds that were milling towards the city walls.
Sam had a strange sensation that he was being watched. He looked around and across the far side of the road he saw a man regarding him. The man was slender, with an angular bird-like face. He wore a pinstripe suit and had an umbrella tucked under his arm.
A truck rumbled in front of Sam, obscuring his view. He looked again for the strange figure once it had passed, but the man was gone. Sam suppressed a shudder and walked towards the city centre and his dad’s shop.
Ever since he could remember Sam had seen monsters. That wasn’t quite true—he recalled the first time, so he must have been aware of the time before. His dad had just read him Not Now Bernard, a book about a boy who had found a monster in his garden.
Sam’s monster was actually shimmering behind the radiator, but the irony wasn’t lost on him.
He learned very quickly to keep quiet about it. If you told your parents about this sort of thing then they did one of two things: they either smiled then ruffled your hair or they made odd noises, like constipated hens.
Sam’s brother Ben had told them that he also saw monsters. He currently resided in a psychiatric hospital. That had pretty much made up Sam’s mind on the matter.
***
The music in Sam’s room shook the shelves. It filled every corner of the room. It washed over Sam, cloaked him, calmed him.
This is the only way to listen to Green Day, he thought. Volume ten and on your own. He slouched on his bed. His head rested on his backpack, as he waited to leave.
The door crashed open and Ollie, Sam’s step-brother, stormed into the bedroom. Ollie was the diametric opposite of Sam. His hair was trimmed and neat, Sam’s was died black and spiked; his attire was catalogue perfect, Sam’s was black and punk; his build was six foot rugby player, Sam’s was skeletal-thin.
This last trait gave Ollie a certain ability to throw his weight around the house. He jabbed the off button on Sam’s stereo and rubbed his ears in irritation.
‘It’s bad enough you listen to that rubbish, let alone subject me to it.’
‘It drowns out your whinging when it’s loud,’ Sam replied. ‘Anyhow, you’ll get a two week reprieve from me soon enough.’
‘I’m counting down the seconds.’
‘Oh, you’ve learned to count now? Who says private education is wasted on rugby players?’
Ollie growled. ‘You think you’re so smart, don’t you? So how come you’ve got no mates at school, eh Sam?’
‘The selection is pretty poor, given most of them like you, Ollie.’
‘Yeah, sure, tell yourself that.’ Ollie’s lip curled in a sneer. ‘Perhaps it’s the fact you throw fireworks into people’s faces. How stupid was that, vampire-boy?’
Sam flushed and rolled of his bed. Anger boiled in his chest.
‘That wasn’t my fault. It was an accident.’
‘Oh, right! Not jealousy? Baz was our best fly-half and now he’s off school and out for the season.’
‘Well that’ll save him bullying any more kids at school then won’t it?’
Ollie loomed over Sam, his face red. ‘It’s not bullying. There’s a pecking order at school, a hierarchy—like there is in the real world. Not that you’re likely to ever be part of that.’
Sam stomped towards Ollie, his fists clenched. He may get a pasting if he punched his step-brother, but at least he’d feel better.
‘Boys? Are you ready yet?’
Sam’s mother, Jen, had popped her head into the bedroom. The tension in the room dissipated.
‘What’s going on?’ Jen asked.
The two boys shrugged. Ollie shot Sam a glare before leaving. Sam’s mother lingered by the door as he grabbed his backpack.
‘You are all right about going to your dad’s place while we’re away?’
Sam shrugged. ‘It’s preferable to two weeks in Gran Canaria with Ollie throwing a ball at my head on the beach.’
Jen sighed. ‘Let your dad enjoy your moods for a change. We’re going in five.’
Sam took a last look around his bedroom and then followed her out.
***
Big Dave, Sam’s step-father, gunned the Jaguar through the village. He chatted casually over his shoulder to Ollie. In the back seat both Sam and Ollie cringed as the car missed an old lady in the road by a molecule-width.
‘David! Pay attention to the road,’ Jen said. ‘We have to live in the village even if you run over all the grannies here.’
‘What? Oh, sorry, love. Just asking Ollie if he had the DVD of last year’s Grand Slam with him for the journey.’
Sam rolled his eyes. Dave was a bigger, albeit more pleasant, version of Ollie. He sweated sports—his love of everything physical permeated every moment of his day. Every business trip he made had some ulterior connection with a sporting event. To Sam, who was usually the last to be picked for sides during games lessons, this was bewildering at best.
Dave caught Sam’s eye. Oh God, Sam thought, he’s going to try and be nice to me now. I can just feel it.
‘So, matey,’ Dave said. ‘Your dad got anything, er... cool planned for you this fortnight?’
Ollie interjected before Sam could reply. ‘Like leaving you behind when he’s played a gig?’
‘Ollie!’ Jen scolded. ‘That only happened the once.’
Sam looked out of the window. They were out in the open countryside now, heading down the lanes towards York. The sky was a sinister battleship grey. There was a storm coming.
‘Oh sorry, Jen, I can see how,’ Ollie said. ‘Finish gig. Guitar... check. Six-pack of beer... check. Son tucked away at back because he’s under-age... um, not check.’
‘C’mon, Ollie, you’ll not see Sam for two weeks, let’s be nice, eh?’ Dave said.
Ollie snorted, but didn’t tease further. He’d been furious with Sam ever since the incident with Baz and the firework. Sam didn’t really care—he preferred it when the kids at school stayed away from him. It made it easier to cope with the monsters.
For several minutes there was only the rumble of the road in the car. Jen kept glancing back, as if building up the nerve to say something.
‘Er, Sam?’ she asked ultimately. ‘Are you going to try visit Ben whilst we’re away? The hospital isn’t far from your dad’s shop.’
A sick sensation stirred in Sam’s belly. ‘I’m not sure, Mum. I’ll... see.’
‘It’s just he... he misses your visits. He’s had a bit of a relapse and they’re keeping a closer eye on him. It might help...’
‘I said I’ll see!’ Sam snapped. His heart was thumping and he felt light-headed and nauseous.
Dave and Jen exchanged glances. Sam struggled to draw breath.
‘Stop the car, Dave,’ Sam said.
‘What? Don’t be...’
‘Stop the damn car!’ Sam yelled.
Dave screeched to a halt at the edge of the lane and Sam scrambled out of the car. He leaned over a dry stone wall and gulped down the air. He became aware, after a minute, of his mum stood by him.
‘Sam, I’m sorry.’
‘No, Mum, I’m sorry. I’m just... I just struggle with seeing Ben. That’s all. I’ll try and see him. Promise.’
Jen nodded and put her arm around Sam. Her perfume was fragrant and warm. He rested his head on her shoulder and looked past her into the field they had stopped next to.
Twenty feet away the air was rippling and curling. Sam could see a hint of motion within the distortion. He turned his head away; he didn’t want to ruin the moment by watching monsters.
***
Dave pulled the Jaguar into a ‘park and ride’ on the outskirts of York. He sat in the car with Ollie whilst Sam gave his mum an awkward hug outside. The bus was arriving nearby.
‘The firework thing wasn’t my fault, Mum. He threw it to try and hurt the first former and I just knocked it back towards him.’
‘I know, Sam,’ Jen said. ‘It’s just with all the other problems at school, I think it was the last straw. You have to appreciate how people can misunderstand you... misjudge you.’
Sam nodded and hoisted his backpack onto his shoulders. He slipped on his earphones and made to leave. Jen touched his arm.
‘Sam, Ben wrote you a letter. I understand if you don’t want to see it.’
Sam took the letter from her silently. He walked towards the bus queue.
***
Sam wobbled down the central aisle of the bus as it drove off. He was well prepared for the stares that accompanied his appearance. Two old ladies, faces bright red under their huge fur hats, tutted at him like metronomes. Six tourists gawped at him as if he was one of York’s many attractions.
He sat at the rear of the bus and turned up the volume on his iPod. Several fidgety minutes passed before he tugged out the letter from his leather jacket.
Big Ben
One of the wards (I forget the name)
Bootham Park
Er...today
Hi Sam Spam
You still stealing Mum’s mascara you EMO boy, you? Only teasing. I’m jealous cos if I did it they’d double my medicine.
Anyhow, thought I’d write you a letter. Supposed to be therapy or something daft. Dude—everyone is bonkers in here! Even the staff! I reckon the only way to tell between staff and patients (they call us clients sometimes) are the badges. They’ve moved me to a more secure unit as the old brain’s gone a bit haywire. Reckon I need an upgrade.
Sorry about the handwritten letter. Can’t handle computers at the best of times. Might sound weird, but it feels like something’s alive on the internet. Watching. Waiting. Not evil, as such, but old. Very old.
(Don’t stress—the docs know I think this. Reckon they read all the letters anyway)
They’ve moved me to a secure area because my monster visions are on the increase—think there must be a World of Warcraft party going on in York! The medicine kind of helps. It sort of dulls things, makes it all fuzzy and seem less important. I feel like an old photo in a multi-coloured world.
(Just to re-iterate I do see stuff other than monsters, waving at me through those wounds in the world).
Days are a bit dull on the secure unit. The telly upsets half the patients so is usually off. Scrabble gets a bit random when your opponent insists FWQZHER is a triple point word. Come visit me, buddy. I miss ya! Make sure u get a pass or they’ll keep you in here with me, what with that crow nest haircut of yours.
Later
Big Ben
***
Sam stared out of the window for a long while as the bus crawled through the traffic towards the city walls. An empty vast void occupied his gut. It had been six months since he had visited Ben and that had not gone well. If he was honest, just seeing Ben terrified him.
The bus stopped to allow some passengers on. Sam clicked through some songs on his iPod. He glanced up to watch them sit.
A girl his own age had got on the bus. Her seat was opposite from his. She was remarkably pretty and carried herself with the poise and confidence of an athlete. Paradoxically, she was dressed in clothes that could be best described as Sunday night period drama. Her neat blouse was tucked under a knitted cardigan. Her grey skirt was below knee and her shoes were as shiny as beetles.
She caught Sam looking at her and she smiled faintly. He blushed and looked away. There was something familiar about her, although he was certain she didn’t go to his school. All the girls there had big hair and designer sunglasses.
Ten minutes later the bus pulled up by the station and everyone stood. The girl carried a bag jammed with books. She’d been reading one by Dostoevsky. Sam doubted he’d be able to read the cover, let alone the book. She alighted from the bus and strode off into the crowds that were milling towards the city walls.
Sam had a strange sensation that he was being watched. He looked around and across the far side of the road he saw a man regarding him. The man was slender, with an angular bird-like face. He wore a pinstripe suit and had an umbrella tucked under his arm.
A truck rumbled in front of Sam, obscuring his view. He looked again for the strange figure once it had passed, but the man was gone. Sam suppressed a shudder and walked towards the city centre and his dad’s shop.
Chapter 3
Sam’s dad, Rob, owned a record shop on Lower Petergate, a stone’s throw from the Minster. It nestled between coffee shops and wine bars like a forgotten sibling. Rob held out against repeated requests to sell the place and against all odds the shop kept breaking even.
The interior of the shop paid homage to Rob’s love of old tunes. A vintage jukebox glowed like a rainbow in the corner. A continual selection of Fifties rock and roll boomed throughout the shop. The walls were decorated with yellowed LPs and rare singles. A signed record by Elvis had its pride of place above the till.
Sam was greeted by Roy O, his dad’s partner, when he entered. Roy O had a Brylcreamed quiff and wore black sunglasses despite the gloom of the day.
‘Sammy-O,’ Roy said. ‘How’s life in the alternate generation on this fine February day?’
‘Not too bad, Roy,’ Sam replied. ‘Dad around?’
‘Sure is, Sammy-O. He’s in the back sorting out his gee-tar for the gig tonight.’
Roy-O liked to affect a Southern US drawl, which merged badly with his Yorkshire accent. Sam had a sinking feeling.‘Gig? He’s playing a gig?’
‘Umm, you betcha! Maybe y’all should go on through.
Sam slipped behind the till and through into the rear of the shop. The room was small. It was cluttered with memorabilia and dusty boxes of
records and CDs. Rob was kneeling in the corner changing some guitar strings.
‘Dad, what’s this about a gig? You know I’m too young to go in pubs at night.’
Rob jumped to his feet. He displayed a wide smile. His greying hair was tied in a ponytail and he was wearing a Dead Kennedys t-shirt.
‘Sam! Now then, son. You’re looking way cool.’
'Don’t change the subject, Dad, at least not so obviously. The gig?’
‘Oh, Sam, it was a last minute thing. It’s a great slot—it could be my big break.’
‘If Mum found out it’d be the big break for your neck. She was fuming after that last time.’
Rob winced. ‘She still going on about that? How is everyone? Hulk and Hulk junior keeping well?’
Sam couldn’t help but laugh at the reference to Big Dave and Ollie.
‘They’re still sharing the brain cell between them. Mum’s OK though.’ Rob passed Sam a bottle of Coke. Holding the guitar under his arm, Rob strode back into the shop. Sam swigged the coke, letting his irritation ebb and then followed him through.
‘I’ve asked Auntie Gaynor to look after you tonight, at her place.’ Rob tucked his guitar away in its case. ‘She’s despatched Nerdy Nick
to meet you at three outside the Minster.’
'Dad! You can’t call him Nerdy Nick—he’s the only friend I’ve got.’
‘C’mon, Sam. He’s geeky and proud. It’s the continual diet of mung beans and lentils from Gaynor.’
Sam laughed and rubbed his aching stomach. ‘Any chance of a fiver for some decent lunch then?’
Rob rolled his eyes and tugged a crumpled five pound note out of his jeans. ‘Go and splash out on an exploitive corporate burger and shake, son. You’ll need the energy...’
***
York was busy, despite the dark clouds that tinted the sky a malevolent shade. Sam munched on his burger as he weaved through the tourists and shoppers. Tudor buildings leaned over the street as if peeking at what was going on below. Strains of a busker’s melody drifted on the breeze, enticing memories of sunnier days.
Sam had had a feeling of apprehension ever since he had left his dad’s shop. He went to sit on a bench, but the tiny puddles of water that rippled on the top changed his mind. The crowds were starting to feel oppressive, yet he knew returning to his dad’s shop would tempt nagging about visiting Ben.
Sam slipped down an alleyway between two shops and onto a cobbled back street. The clamour of the main street faded and he felt his anxiety ebb. He sat on a dry step outside a flaking back door and pondered how to kill the hour until he met his cousin Nick.
At the far end of the lonely back street the air began to ripple and shimmer. Sam could feel a headache building rapidly. He rose, with a sigh, and wandered towards the distortion in the air. In the centre of the rippling air he could see figures, perhaps eight in total. They were walking in a cobbled street, attired in top hats and brandishing ornate canes. Above their heads he could see huge balloons, like zeppelins, drifting across the sky. Sam reached for the image, but his hand passed through it as if it were featureless
air.
‘Makes a change from monsters, I suppose,’ he said to himself.
A tingle ran down his neck. Sam turned and saw a tall figure walking down the alley towards the backstreet. His heart skipped a beat. It was the man in the pinstripe suit he had seen earlier.
Sam ran, past the shimmering image and out of the far end of the back street. It was irrational, sure, but something about this Pinstripe Man creeped him out. Sam emerged back onto the busy street and slipped through the throng of people and towards the river.
The Pinstripe Man emerged from the alley and looked around with a sigh. He tugged a smart-phone from his breast-pocket, tapped the screen and then strolled down the street.
***
The River Ouse was a sombre grey, emulating the darkening sky, as Sam crossed the bridge. He was probably just feeling a bit paranoid today, he reflected. Ben’s letter had upset him more than he thought.
Sam ambled by the riverside, sipping from his Coke. There was no sign of the Pinstripe Man so he relaxed. He passed a family splashing in the brown puddles that decorated the stone flags at the side of the river. One of the children laughed at Sam’s black spiky hair. He fixed his gaze past them.
Further down the riverside he sawthe girl from the bus. She had obviously been to the library as she was carrying half a dozen books. He stared at her, trying to place her face and then it hit him. She lived in Auntie Gaynor and Nick’s village. She was one of those kids whose parents tutored them at home, except in her case Sam thought it was her granddad who did it.
He made to catch her up when he saw four lads saunter down to the riverside, laughing and shouting. Sam winced as he recognised the
largest as Hugo ‘Baz’ Barrett, Ollie’s bullying friend. His lumpy features still bore the scar from the firework incident.
‘Good afternoon, my pretty,’ Baz said loudly. ‘I’m afraid there is a toll to pass along the riverbank today.’
His rugby-sweatered friends snickered. Baz’s voice was intrinsically irritating, a mixture of arrogance and posh-schooling.
‘I... I don’t want any trouble,’ the girl replied. Her accent was crisp and refined. She looked between the four lads.
‘There won’t be any, my sweet,’ Baz leered. ‘For the price of a kiss.’
‘You are joking?’ the girl said.
‘Since you are kept away from both real men and school, I thought it the least I could do.’ Baz made to grab her.
Sam hardly saw her move. She dropped the books, side-stepped and flipped Baz over her hip. He crashed onto the flagstones of the riverside path.
Baz staggered to his feet, his face distorted in fury. ‘Grab her, you idiots. She needs a lesson in manners.’
The three huge lads lunged for the girl. Sam hurried towards the scene, but then slowed as he saw her dart between the three.
The first fell with a punch to the nose; the second with a kick to the chest; the third with an elbow to the mouth. Baz grabbed the girl from behind. He tugged viciously on her long hair. His brawny arms looked huge around her slender figure.
Without thinking, Sam ran up and flung his coke into Baz’s face. He yelled in surprise and loosened his grip. The girl pivoted and threw him over her shoulder and into the river. Baz flailed in the water as his moaning friends stumbled to the edge of the water.
Across the river, outside the cafes and pubs, a crowd had gathered.
'Thanks, but I had it handled,’ the girl said.
'Don’t mention it. I think we need to get out of here—Baz isn’t likely to see the funny side,’ Sam replied.
The girl put her hands on her hips. ‘I’m not afraid of...’
Her statement faded as she caught sight of someone in the crowd opposite. The colour drained from her face. Sam looked over in confusion and, to his horror, saw the Pinstripe Man within the crowd.
'Run. Now,’ the girl said.
She grabbed Sam’s hand and pulled him away from the riverside. Sam glanced back and saw a furious Baz in the act of clambering out of the river.
Sam didn’t need telling twice.
***
The pair hurtled through the streets of York, Baz and his cronies in pursuit. Sam clutched his side, a sharp stitch in his chest. The girl hadn’t even broken a sweat. They dodged past a gaggle of European tourists, whose cameras flashed like a movie premiere. They careened down the narrow ginnals between buildings, generating curses and shaken fists in their wake. Sam realised with dismay they were heading in the opposite direction to his dad’s shop.
The girl abruptly dragged him through a doorway and along a concrete corridor that smelt like a public toilet. They emerged into a multi-storey car park. The girl pulled him down behind a car and indicated silence. Sam felt sick, mainly with the vigorous run, partly with nerves. After two minutes no-one had come through the door. The girl peered around at the ramps to the other levels of the car park. It was deserted and so they both stood.
‘I think we’ve lost him,’ she said.
‘Who...? Sorry, who are you... and what’s going on?’ Sam wiped sweat from his eyes.
‘I’m Annie,’ she replied. ‘Annie Jones.’
‘Sam. I’m Sam.’
‘Ok, Sam. It’s... difficult to explain. I saw a man, across the river, that I have been warned is very dangerous. By my grandfather.’
‘The Pinstripe Man?’
Annie looked perplexed. ‘Er... no. He was wearing a black leather jacket. Why, who are you thinking of?’
Sam began to explain when the door flew open and Baz charged through with his friends. Annie moved into a defensive posture, but Baz slammed into her before she could stop him. A fist thudded into Sam’s cheek. He stumbled, white flashes across his vision. Large hands grabbed his jacket and swung him into the side of a parked car. The breath exploded from him.
Annie spun around and kicked one of Baz’s friends in the chest. Baz lunged forward again and shoved Annie with all his strength. Annie slipped back and fell over the barrier with a cry.
‘Annie!’ Sam yelled. He staggered to the barrier as the four lads all looked on in surprise.
Annie lay crumpled two levels down on the concrete floor. A pool of blood spread outwards from her head.
***
Sam began to move to help her. Baz grabbed hold of him and pinned him against the car again.
'Not so fast, vampire-boy. I owe you a good kicking for this scar.’
‘She’s hurt, you moron,’ Sam said.
‘He’s right, Baz,’ said one of the other lads. ‘We should get out of here.’
‘Shut up!’ Baz screamed. ‘The little cow had it coming. As does Sammy here.’
Baz slapped Sam hard across his face. The world spun around him. He had to go and help Annie.
‘Let the child loose,’ a deep voice echoed. Through his blurred vision, Sam could just see the Pinstripe Man walking across the deserted car park.
‘Get stuffed,’ Baz said. He brought back his fist. The Pinstripe Man pressed his smart-phone screen and a pulse of red light emanated from the device. Baz and his three friends slumped to the floor, eyes wide.
Sam looked at them in horror. ‘Oh my God, what did you do?’
‘It’s a neural inhibitor. They are only stunned. It has the added advantage of retrograde amnesia.’
Sam backed away as the Pinstripe Man approached. His heart was thundering in his ears.
‘That’s... impossible. What’s going on?’ Sam said.
‘I haven’t got time to explain,’ the Pinstripe Man said. ‘You are both in grave danger. You must come with me immediately.’
‘You’re mental if you think I’m going anywhere with you,’ Sam said. ‘And Annie’s hurt.’
‘Listen...’ the Pinstripe Man began.
An emerald beam of light flashed across the car park and burnt a hole through the Pinstripe Man’s chest.
Chapter 4
Sam suppressed his terror as he dove for the smart-phone. A bright green beam flashed within inches of his head. A plume of flame erupted from the concrete of the wall.
His hands grasped the phone and he dodged back as another beam melted a hole in the car window. If one of those hits the petrol tank we’re done for, he thought.
The Pinstripe Man’s face was wax-pale as Sam ducked back behind the car. Wisps of smoke twisted from his mouth like ethereal snakes. He
pressed the smart-phone urgently into the Man’s hand.
Sam could hear footsteps echoing across the car park as the Pinstripe Man pressed the screen. They were slow and steady, as if their assailant knew that they would have no chance to flee. Panic gripped Sam’s throat and the temptation to look around the car bonnet was intense.
The footsteps were nearing. Bile rose into Sam’s mouth. A shadow fell across the floor.
A flash of purple light illuminated the air around Sam. His skin felt as if a million ants were running across it. In an instant all the lights in the car park went out, plunging it into gloom. A loud clang sounded from the car and a figure rolled from the bonnet and onto the floor.
The figure had a shaven head and a black leather jacket. His eyes were open and unseeing. They were steely grey. He had cracked the concrete floor where he had fallen.
‘EMP,’ the Pinstripe Man croaked. ‘It’ll keep... him out... for a few minutes.’
‘Who is he? What were those green beams?’ Sam’s whole body shook.
‘He’s... like an android. Beams... are his weapon. Bio-energy... look, I haven’t long... you need to go.’
‘I’ll call the police... an ambulance,’ Sam said. He pulled out his phone. It had no power.
‘No... no hospital. I’ll be dead... before... they come.’ He coughed and smoke puffed from his mouth, along with chunks of soot.
‘And... no police. Can’t trust... the Hidden... watching. The knights betrayed.’
‘I don’t understand.’ Sam’s eyes were fixed on the unconscious android. ‘This is mad.’
‘This is... reality, Sam. Madness is... when people deny it. Go... take my... phone.’
He pressed the device into Sam’s tremulous hand. The screen was dull. The Pinstripe Man coughed once more and then his head lolled back.
He was dead.
Sam stood and looked at the devastation around him. Smoke poured from holes in the car park floor and the car he had taken cover behind. Baz and his friends were slumped on the floor, drooling but breathing. The body of the Pinstripe Man lay next to the recumbent android.
Sam’s hand shook as he reached out to touch the android. Its skin was rubbery and cold. He pressed more firmly, and then whipped back his hand. There were metal lumps under the skin. And they were starting to move.
An intense feeling of claustrophobia seized Sam. He had to get away from here, go and get some help for him and Annie.
Annie! He’d almost forgotten her. Sam stumbled from the bodies and made his way down the ramps to the level where she had fallen. The lights were still off and the shadows of the car park were deep and threatening.
Annie was gone.
The pool of blood was congealed and dark on the concrete. Sam clutched his head. He stepped away from the blood and then ran from the car park.
***
The air was cold but welcome as he ran out of the car park and into the street. Several people were pressing their phones in irritation as he went past them. His mind whirled. He had to get some help, whatever the Pinstripe Man had said. If the android awoke before Baz and the others he would surely kill them. Sam didn’t need that on his conscience.
His finger jabbed on the screen of the smart-phone, but it was blank. He pulled loose his own phone, but that was flat too. Sam swore under his breath. On the adjacent street dozens of people wandered oblivious to the chaos he had just left. A middle-aged woman was chatting on her phone. Sam stopped in front of her. She looked at him in annoyance.
‘Can I use your phone, please?’ he asked.
‘You are joking? You’ll be off with it before I can blink.'
‘No, please, I won’t... there’s been... an accident.’
Something in Sam’s voice convinced her and she hung up her call and passed him the phone. She watched him with narrowed eyes. Sam dialled 999.
‘Uhm, hello, I need police. I’m calling from Micklegate. There’s been... a murder... at the multi-storey car park. Come, quickly...’
He shoved the phone back at the woman and ran. Sam could hear her talking on the phone, saying she didn’t know the caller’s name and if it was serious or not.
Sam didn’t stop until he reached the bridge over the Ouse. He clung to the side and calmed his breathing.
This is insane; that couldn’t have just happened. But in his pocket he could feel the hard surface of the smart-phone. He wasn’t imagining that.
***
Nick sat under the statue of Constantine the Great in the shadow of York Minster. He could smell the prospect of rain in the air and with irritation he remembered he had no coat. The earlier shower had left the pale stone of York Minster dappled like a giant horse.
Where was Sam? As chaotic as his cousin could be, he was usually punctual. That was assuming that Uncle Rob had passed
the message on. Now, there was the x-factor in this equation.
A group of drunken students meandered past. One pointed at his jumper and burst out laughing. Nick shrugged off the mockery. Clothes were a superficial concern to him and his intellect probably exceeded their alcohol-addled minds anyway. Nick spotted Sam rushing across the small square before the Minster. He stood to greet him.
‘Sam, it’s unlike you to be late.’
‘Nick, mate, I’ve had a crazy day... I... what are you wearing?’
‘It’s a hand-knitted jumper with a likeness of the revolutionary Che Guevara. Mother’s idea to make me more socially aware. Do you like it?’
‘Uh, no,’ Sam said. He seemed vague to Nick.
‘That’s unfortunate. I think she’s knitting one for your birthday. You all right?’
‘I’m not sure. I’ve had the most unbelievable hour of my life.’
‘That’s up against some pretty strong competition. What’s happened? Ollie renounced pointlessly violent sports and begun wearing a pink dress?’
Sam slumped against the base of the statue. Nick’s smile faded and he helped his cousin sit on the drying pavement. Hesitantly, Sam began to tell Nick the events of the last hour. Nick felt an uneasy knot in his stomach as Sam elaborated.
‘That’s... ah, incredible.’ Nick took his glasses off and wiped them. ‘This some Gonzo-YouTube-type wind-up?’
‘It’s the truth, damn it,’ Sam shouted. ‘When have I ever lied to you?’
‘Not since we were six. Sorry, it’s just a bit random, that’s all. I mean, I’m sure you believe what you saw was happening.’
Sam flushed with anger and pushed Nick away. He tottered to his feet and yanked out the smart-phone.
‘Damn it, Nick, I’m not going mad. I’m not. I swear to you, on whatever you want me to, it happened. That’s how I got
this.’
Nick held his hands out. ‘Sam, calm down. I’m sorry. You know me... no messing, I say what I think. It’s somewhat bonkers, that’s all. Can I look at the phone?’
Sam passed it over. ‘It’s not working. Not since the ENP.’
‘EMP. Electro-magnetic pulse. It knocks out all the electricity in a radius. It’s the sort of thing that needs a nuclear bomb or a lightning
strike... outside of sci- fi films.’
‘For the last time—it happened.’
‘All right! Stop chewing my head off. I’m talking aloud. This is such a weird smart-phone. There doesn’t seem to be any joins, any battery casing, just this slot in its side.’
Sam shivered and Nick looked in concern at him. Every instinct told Nick that Sam must be losing his mind, the same way Sam’s brother Ben had. Yet Sam’s conviction was total and the phone was unlike anything Nick had ever seen. And Nick was the guru of all matters technical.
‘Let’s get back to my house and work out what to do,’ Nick said. ‘Uncle Rob will be out of the shop now anyway. Perhaps we can check up and see if Annie got home. It’s not so far.’
He put his arms around Sam’s side. Sam winced as Nick pressed on his bruised ribs.
‘Sorry about not liking your sweater,’ Sam said.
‘Don’t stress,’ Nick replied. ‘It’s geek-chic. I’m proud to be one—a militant nerd. They reckon the geek shall inherit the earth.’
Sam smiled as they walked towards the bus stop. Nick hid his look of apprehension from him.
Chapters 1 to 4 from the Infinity Bridge. Published by Myrddin Publishing Group. Copyright Ross M Kitson 2012.
His hands grasped the phone and he dodged back as another beam melted a hole in the car window. If one of those hits the petrol tank we’re done for, he thought.
The Pinstripe Man’s face was wax-pale as Sam ducked back behind the car. Wisps of smoke twisted from his mouth like ethereal snakes. He
pressed the smart-phone urgently into the Man’s hand.
Sam could hear footsteps echoing across the car park as the Pinstripe Man pressed the screen. They were slow and steady, as if their assailant knew that they would have no chance to flee. Panic gripped Sam’s throat and the temptation to look around the car bonnet was intense.
The footsteps were nearing. Bile rose into Sam’s mouth. A shadow fell across the floor.
A flash of purple light illuminated the air around Sam. His skin felt as if a million ants were running across it. In an instant all the lights in the car park went out, plunging it into gloom. A loud clang sounded from the car and a figure rolled from the bonnet and onto the floor.
The figure had a shaven head and a black leather jacket. His eyes were open and unseeing. They were steely grey. He had cracked the concrete floor where he had fallen.
‘EMP,’ the Pinstripe Man croaked. ‘It’ll keep... him out... for a few minutes.’
‘Who is he? What were those green beams?’ Sam’s whole body shook.
‘He’s... like an android. Beams... are his weapon. Bio-energy... look, I haven’t long... you need to go.’
‘I’ll call the police... an ambulance,’ Sam said. He pulled out his phone. It had no power.
‘No... no hospital. I’ll be dead... before... they come.’ He coughed and smoke puffed from his mouth, along with chunks of soot.
‘And... no police. Can’t trust... the Hidden... watching. The knights betrayed.’
‘I don’t understand.’ Sam’s eyes were fixed on the unconscious android. ‘This is mad.’
‘This is... reality, Sam. Madness is... when people deny it. Go... take my... phone.’
He pressed the device into Sam’s tremulous hand. The screen was dull. The Pinstripe Man coughed once more and then his head lolled back.
He was dead.
Sam stood and looked at the devastation around him. Smoke poured from holes in the car park floor and the car he had taken cover behind. Baz and his friends were slumped on the floor, drooling but breathing. The body of the Pinstripe Man lay next to the recumbent android.
Sam’s hand shook as he reached out to touch the android. Its skin was rubbery and cold. He pressed more firmly, and then whipped back his hand. There were metal lumps under the skin. And they were starting to move.
An intense feeling of claustrophobia seized Sam. He had to get away from here, go and get some help for him and Annie.
Annie! He’d almost forgotten her. Sam stumbled from the bodies and made his way down the ramps to the level where she had fallen. The lights were still off and the shadows of the car park were deep and threatening.
Annie was gone.
The pool of blood was congealed and dark on the concrete. Sam clutched his head. He stepped away from the blood and then ran from the car park.
***
The air was cold but welcome as he ran out of the car park and into the street. Several people were pressing their phones in irritation as he went past them. His mind whirled. He had to get some help, whatever the Pinstripe Man had said. If the android awoke before Baz and the others he would surely kill them. Sam didn’t need that on his conscience.
His finger jabbed on the screen of the smart-phone, but it was blank. He pulled loose his own phone, but that was flat too. Sam swore under his breath. On the adjacent street dozens of people wandered oblivious to the chaos he had just left. A middle-aged woman was chatting on her phone. Sam stopped in front of her. She looked at him in annoyance.
‘Can I use your phone, please?’ he asked.
‘You are joking? You’ll be off with it before I can blink.'
‘No, please, I won’t... there’s been... an accident.’
Something in Sam’s voice convinced her and she hung up her call and passed him the phone. She watched him with narrowed eyes. Sam dialled 999.
‘Uhm, hello, I need police. I’m calling from Micklegate. There’s been... a murder... at the multi-storey car park. Come, quickly...’
He shoved the phone back at the woman and ran. Sam could hear her talking on the phone, saying she didn’t know the caller’s name and if it was serious or not.
Sam didn’t stop until he reached the bridge over the Ouse. He clung to the side and calmed his breathing.
This is insane; that couldn’t have just happened. But in his pocket he could feel the hard surface of the smart-phone. He wasn’t imagining that.
***
Nick sat under the statue of Constantine the Great in the shadow of York Minster. He could smell the prospect of rain in the air and with irritation he remembered he had no coat. The earlier shower had left the pale stone of York Minster dappled like a giant horse.
Where was Sam? As chaotic as his cousin could be, he was usually punctual. That was assuming that Uncle Rob had passed
the message on. Now, there was the x-factor in this equation.
A group of drunken students meandered past. One pointed at his jumper and burst out laughing. Nick shrugged off the mockery. Clothes were a superficial concern to him and his intellect probably exceeded their alcohol-addled minds anyway. Nick spotted Sam rushing across the small square before the Minster. He stood to greet him.
‘Sam, it’s unlike you to be late.’
‘Nick, mate, I’ve had a crazy day... I... what are you wearing?’
‘It’s a hand-knitted jumper with a likeness of the revolutionary Che Guevara. Mother’s idea to make me more socially aware. Do you like it?’
‘Uh, no,’ Sam said. He seemed vague to Nick.
‘That’s unfortunate. I think she’s knitting one for your birthday. You all right?’
‘I’m not sure. I’ve had the most unbelievable hour of my life.’
‘That’s up against some pretty strong competition. What’s happened? Ollie renounced pointlessly violent sports and begun wearing a pink dress?’
Sam slumped against the base of the statue. Nick’s smile faded and he helped his cousin sit on the drying pavement. Hesitantly, Sam began to tell Nick the events of the last hour. Nick felt an uneasy knot in his stomach as Sam elaborated.
‘That’s... ah, incredible.’ Nick took his glasses off and wiped them. ‘This some Gonzo-YouTube-type wind-up?’
‘It’s the truth, damn it,’ Sam shouted. ‘When have I ever lied to you?’
‘Not since we were six. Sorry, it’s just a bit random, that’s all. I mean, I’m sure you believe what you saw was happening.’
Sam flushed with anger and pushed Nick away. He tottered to his feet and yanked out the smart-phone.
‘Damn it, Nick, I’m not going mad. I’m not. I swear to you, on whatever you want me to, it happened. That’s how I got
this.’
Nick held his hands out. ‘Sam, calm down. I’m sorry. You know me... no messing, I say what I think. It’s somewhat bonkers, that’s all. Can I look at the phone?’
Sam passed it over. ‘It’s not working. Not since the ENP.’
‘EMP. Electro-magnetic pulse. It knocks out all the electricity in a radius. It’s the sort of thing that needs a nuclear bomb or a lightning
strike... outside of sci- fi films.’
‘For the last time—it happened.’
‘All right! Stop chewing my head off. I’m talking aloud. This is such a weird smart-phone. There doesn’t seem to be any joins, any battery casing, just this slot in its side.’
Sam shivered and Nick looked in concern at him. Every instinct told Nick that Sam must be losing his mind, the same way Sam’s brother Ben had. Yet Sam’s conviction was total and the phone was unlike anything Nick had ever seen. And Nick was the guru of all matters technical.
‘Let’s get back to my house and work out what to do,’ Nick said. ‘Uncle Rob will be out of the shop now anyway. Perhaps we can check up and see if Annie got home. It’s not so far.’
He put his arms around Sam’s side. Sam winced as Nick pressed on his bruised ribs.
‘Sorry about not liking your sweater,’ Sam said.
‘Don’t stress,’ Nick replied. ‘It’s geek-chic. I’m proud to be one—a militant nerd. They reckon the geek shall inherit the earth.’
Sam smiled as they walked towards the bus stop. Nick hid his look of apprehension from him.
Chapters 1 to 4 from the Infinity Bridge. Published by Myrddin Publishing Group. Copyright Ross M Kitson 2012.