Glitch

GLITCH

Published by Shane Daly at Smashwords

Copyright 2014 Shane Daly

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

For Sally and her once heroic tolerance of my flighty scheme

and for Nickolas who makes me feel super.

Table of Contents

Birthday Prologue

Chapter 1 - A Hero Falls

Chapter 2 - Unexpected Truths

Chapter 3 - The Pursuit of Answers

Chapter 4 - New Twists

Chapter 5 - Convergence

Chapter 6 - Traps and Partners

Chapter 7 - Uneasy Calm

Chapter 8 - Dark Knowledge

Chapter 9 - Vulnerability

Chapter 10 - Probably Not a Good Idea

Chapter 11 - Plans, Patience and the Glory of Sensorama

Chapter 12 - Running the Storm

Chapter 13 - Conclusions

Chapter 14 - Epilogue

Superspeed and Progeria

About Shane Daly

Connect with Shane Daly

Birthday Prologue

Happy Birthday Morgan

Found this in an old $2 book bin. It’s a bit dated and whoever wrote it appears to have been a bit liberal with (as in no idea of) Australian geography but I thought it would be a worthy inclusion to your book shelves. You’ll see why when you read it. Hope you enjoy it and I look forward to shelving it on my next visit.

Many happy returns

Stuart

Chapter 1 - A Hero Falls

Saturday clouds were always the worst. It was just something learned from school. Clouds during the week were okay while you were in class, and clouds on Sunday didn’t matter much anyway because you knew the next day was Monday and that the weekend was all but over. Actually in many ways clouds on a Sunday seemed appropriate. But clouds on Saturday really screwed things right up. They interfered with sports, messed up family outings; in fact their appearance was enough to ruin any enjoyment for the weekend to come.

Anthony eyed the dark clouds gathering overhead with a deep suspicion. Where they real or something the Council had planned?

Then, bitterly, he remembered the planes that had been circling earlier and spat in disgust. Those bastards were certainly not beyond seeding the clouds to get the right atmosphere for the funeral of the century. After all how often was it that one of these guys died? The Council would see it as both giving the masses what they wanted while simultaneously gloating at the death of one of their enemies.

He shook his head. Normally he wouldn’t care about this sort of thing but The Glitch had saved him twice over the last two years and … well… he didn’t like to see the little guy’s funeral turned into a publicity parade.

There were still a couple of hours before the open-air funeral began and already there were few places in the cemetery that were not covered by tourists and other gawkers. Even the rooftops of the various mausoleums dotted about the grounds held people carrying cameras with telescopic lenses, except for the ones that held strategically placed police officers. Security was very tight for this event. In about half an hour or so, armed guards would scour the cemetery for uninvited guests and usher them out to where the hordes of other tourists waited beyond the fence, like parasites.

Anthony, although he didn’t feel it, was one of the lucky ones in that he’d been invited. Why, he didn’t know, but his editor, Martin Styleman had told him to come and not look a gift horse in the mouth.

‘For some reason, someone in authority wants you there,’ he had said, ‘Who are we to say no?’ Marty had said it in an amiable tone but his eyes had made it very clear that Anthony would be at the funeral or else.

So here he was with his tape recorder in hand to make notes if needed but he had already decided what he would write. Nothing except a rehash of all the publicity material the paper had received from City Hall. Who would know? All he knew was that he had liked the Glitch and had no intention of jumping on the bandwagon of his death.

Anthony moved from his vantage-point and began to make his way downhill through the trees to the older, more secluded, part of the funeral gardens. The main cemetery was hidden from this section by a ring of trees and a steep, reasonably sized slope. No one down here could see anything of what happened in the main gardens above and, as such, this place was relatively deserted. Relatively except for the patrols posted here to stop unwelcome access from the river. Anthony was questioned but showed his invitation pass and was waved on. He felt another twinge of sadness at all this fuss for such a quiet withdrawn individual as The Glitch had been. Poor little guy, he thought, would have hated all this.

Anthony made his way to a point where a bench overlooked the river among the walls of cremation jars and sat, wrapping his jacket around him against the cold breeze that whipped up spray from the water beneath. Although winter had not yet truly arrived this June, now and again it would send a touch of icy weather as if to remind people that it was still coming even if it was fashionably late. He sat quietly gazing out at the National Forest on the opposing bank. The day was darkening and the river reflected the greyness of the clouds, broken only by the line of trees along the bank. A few fat droplets splashed against the concrete floor.

Bloody Council and their seeding, he thought. His only consolation would be if the rain came and went too soon for the effect required. With a grim smile he made for the relative protection of the trees again as a curtain of rain swept up the river towards him.

An audible groan came from the hill above him as the vulturous crowd felt the first drops of the shower to come. Poor little guy, he thought again.

Another sound from the crowd caused him to lift his head. Something was happening. He picked up his pace and, changing direction, made his way back to his previous vantage-point as a peculiar whine was heard in the air. He looked upwards like a thousand others and saw a dark figure drop from the sky. V-TOL.

The man in black leather and flying helmet landed gently and the whine from the engine on his back died down. Although he must have seen the crowd from the air, he scanned it again on the ground as if seeing it for the first time. He did a slow sweep, turning almost 360 degrees to see the full swarm of people that had gathered. In the silence that had descended since his arrival he finished his scan and then gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head.

He’s as unhappy by all this as I am. Anthony watched the figure turn and move to the place where the Glitch would finally be put to rest. V-TOL bent down, probably to check that all was ready for the ceremony. When he appeared satisfied he straightened up once again and then looked to where Anthony was standing. At this distance, Anthony must only have appeared as one of many press people but still V-TOL nodded as if satisfied.

Someone really wants me to be here if they send a super hero to check up on me. Anthony found the idea slightly disturbing as he wondered who might have orchestrated his invitation and had the clout to get V-TOL to verify that he had attended.

His thoughts were then broken by another high pitched whine as V-TOL lifted from the ground and turned towards the direction of the city. There was now only an hour before the funeral procession would arrive and V-TOL would be going to Burke City Hall to take his place within the motorcade. It was strange that the Council had decided to hold the funeral here at the Burke City Cemetery rather than at a Harbourton one.

Not really so strange, he mused, Burke Cemetery was the oldest in the Shire, the largest - so much so that the people of Burke referred to it as Necropolis - and still the most elite. It was fitting to bury one of the Shire’s heroes here. Perhaps the Council had a heart after all.

Anthony watched the dark man disappear into the distance and then turned to look at the crowd as V-TOL had done. He thought about the thousand or so people here, the thousands more who would be lining the procession route and the hundreds of invited guests who were even now attending the service at St Christopher’s Cathedral. He thought about how the City Council was now calling today ‘Fallen Day’ and the annual holiday that it would become. He thought about the merchants that he’d noticed as he had arrived, selling T-shirts, mugs, comics and action figures. It was all in extremely bad taste and would have made the Glitch want to hurl. Funny, it was hard to imagine a super hero hurling, especially the Glitch who of them all stayed the most in the background. He had not been one to promote himself at all. In fact, Anthony could not ever remember the Glitch speaking publicly, not to the press, to any of the people he saved, not even to the other heroes for that matter. Anthony had met him twice and the Glitch had spoken only a single word. And now all this was taking place in his name. No. He would’ve hated all this.

Suddenly it was all too much. Anthony’s head began to spin and he leaned against a tree. He couldn’t stay here, no matter what Marty said to him. No matter who it was that had sent V-TOL to check on him. He couldn’t stay here.

Anthony stood up and headed down the hill again to the Memorial Gardens. He would stay on-site but that was about all. The excitement of V-TOL’s visit and the nearness of the hour kept the crowd up near the main burial plot. Even the police patrols had abandoned their positions down here and were nowhere to be seen. Anthony sat on the bench down near the river again. The clouds were just starting to pass and golden sunlight was glimmering off the water downstream. Anthony smiled at the thought of the Council’s plans being spoiled. He took out his mobile phone and turned it off, he felt like being incommunicado for a while – a very long while.

Time passed. The shadows grew longer as he heard the arrival of the funeral party and listened to the sounds of the ceremony above him; the typical political speeches blared across the temporary P.A. system, the cries of anguish on the wind, the national anthem and the memorial song written for the occasion ‘It takes One to make a Difference’.

And then, finally, it was silent again and evening twilight began to settle gently across the gardens. Anthony continued to sit and listen to the lapping of waves against the rocks and the sea birds crying.

Eventually the lights along the path flickered on and in the distance the lights on Bayes Bridge further down the river began to reflect in the dark water. A new sound came to his ears, the whirring of an electric motor. He turned to see a wheelchair making its way slowly down the path. Its occupant shifted the chair deftly using one arm on a joystick. His other sleeve was folded up to the shoulder and the blanket over his lap showed that the lower half of the chair was obviously empty. The elderly man manoeuvred through the numerous brick walls and then stopped before a plaque and started talking softly to it. Anthony turned back to the river, not wishing to intrude. Coming upstream chugged a Council craft carrying a crane and other equipment. It slowed as it approached and, passing him, turned slowly into a small inlet slightly up the river but hidden from Anthony by the trees. In the evening stillness, he heard the engines turn off and the distant sounds of voices. His mind drifted off again and he found himself lulled by the droning of the mosquitoes.

‘You might want to take a look at that.’ A gruff, deep voice rasped in his ear. Anthony jumped awake and turned to the sound. It was the man in the wheelchair.

‘What?’ When had this guy come over? Anthony chided himself for falling asleep.

‘That boat that pulled up yonder. You might want to take a look.’ The man’s face seemed orange under the sodium lights of the Gardens.

‘Boat? What boat?’ Anthony stood up. Memory of the Council boat came back to him. ‘What’s wrong with the boat?’

‘It’s still there!’ was the hissed reply.

‘What? Well, what’s wrong with that? It was a Council boat and there’s supposed to be some sort of new stormwater drain being built around here somewhere. They could be working on that.’ As he said it, Anthony looked towards where he had seen the boat vanish behind the point and he knew something was wrong. If it was a construction crew then where were their lights? Night time workers always had huge lights that shone like day. The point was strangely dark. Anthony began to move.

‘Exactly!’ An electric whirring from behind told him that the invalid was following. ‘There have been some strange things happening over there for a few nights now. I come down every night to talk to my friends and I’ve seen this boat come down the river for about a week now. Hey, wait for me.’

Anthony was now striding along the paths leading through the trees. He came to the fence that marked the boundary of the Gardens from the undeveloped cemetery land, looking about as the wheelchair joined him, before turning his gaze back to the natural bush sliver of land that lead to a small shoreline nestled beneath the cliff that rose substantially above the river. There were still no lights to be seen from where the boat had supposedly berthed. Anthony grabbed his phone. He should call Marty about this.

‘What are you doing?’ the old man hissed, ‘Do you want them to know you’re here?’ He was right. If the phone were to ring, it would be heard for miles out here, and no doubt Marty would be trying to reach him by now. He would be wondering why Anthony hadn’t called in after the funeral. He put his phone back into his pocket and then vaulted the fence.

‘What are you doing?’ the old man asked again.

‘I’m going to see what’s going on.’ He answered. ‘This is very strange. Stay here while I check it out.’ He said this before he thought about it. The man in the wheelchair couldn’t do anything else but stay on the path. Anthony was about to apologise but the old man had a twinkle in his eyes and a smile played on the corner of his mouth.

‘No worries, son. Go do what you have to do. I’ll stay here and raise the alarm if you don’t return.’

Anthony nodded once, smiled, and ducked through the bushes. Away from the lights in the gardens he was instantly in darkness. Slowly, carefully he made his way down to the waterfront and then walked the fifty metres along the glistening rocks towards the inlet. Even from here he should have seen some lights if there was any sort of construction going on but the river was dark. A small ledge of bush-covered rock led round into the inlet and he crept along it silently. The sound of water lapping against the sides of the boat rocking slightly came to him on the breeze and he could see, beyond the shadow of the boat, the outlet of the storm water drain as a wide opening of darkness framed in concrete grey. Other than that the area was completely black, no running lights, no ambient lighting at all except for that provided by the stars. There was no movement on the silhouette of the boat and no sounds at all came across the water.

Anthony was about to turn back and tell the old man what he’d seen when there was the faint sound of a motor. In the distance he could see a small shadow rounding the bend in the river, its bow carving a silver wake. It also carried no lights and presently the motor went dead. There soon came the thrum of a high pitched underwater engine as the small craft nosed its way towards the first boat. In no time at all they were beside each other and dark figures began to dart across the decks fastening lines. As Anthony watched, someone seemed to jump from the smaller runabout to the larger vessel. He was thankful for the dark clothes he had worn for the funeral. In these shadows he would not be noticed. Mutterings from the boat carried clearly across the still water.

‘Report.’

‘Nothing downstream. How soon before we can get started.’

‘Best wait another half hour for the tide to peak and then we’ll go in.’

‘I don’t like this waiting around. There’s bound to be people still about following the funeral. We could be discovered.’

‘Best to be discovered doing nothing than get stuck with the goods by going too early. Our orders were to wait and so we will wait.’

Silence descended again. Anthony had another half an hour or so before he would see what they were here for. He decided to make his way back, after all the old man would probably still be waiting for him. Retracing his way back through the bushes, he noticed that some of the rocks he had used as stepping-stones were now under water and he realised that most of the shelf would be submerged by the time he came back. Well that couldn’t be helped. He had some things that he now needed to do before he returned.

He was back with the old man in no time.

‘What is it? What’s happening?’ The old man grinned toothlessly at him.

‘You were right, Mr…?’

‘Pellcer, Robert Pellcer. Please call me Bob.’

‘Well, Bob, there are two boats waiting in the inlet for the full tide and then they plan to do ... well something. I need to call this in and go back to my car for a few things. And then I’m going back.’

‘What can I do?’ Bob was eager and Anthony couldn’t help but smile.

‘Nothing. You’ve done enough by telling me and if something does go wrong then I don’t want anything to happen to you because of it.’

Bob’s face fell and he was silent. Then he slowly nodded his head.

‘Yeah you’re right. It was just the thought of a little action again. Tell you what though, if anything happens to you, I can go to the police and tell them what I saw. It’s not much but it’s something.’ Bob backed up and headed off along the path. Anthony quickly caught up with him.

‘No. Don’t wait for me, young fella. Do what you have to do. I’ll be fine.’

‘Thanks Bob. I hope I’ll see you around again.’

‘Yes, I hope so too.’

Anthony ran up the path to the empty cemetery. It was funny to think that only a couple of hours ago this place had been full of people. Even now there were a few mourners at the grave. Anthony barely spared them a glance as he headed back to his car. These would be the real mourners, the people who had really been affected by the Glitch in some way or another. It would not be right to disturb them.

He reached his old Toyota, thankful now that he had come so early as to guarantee a parking place so close. Only a half-hour later and the traffic had ground to a halt. He grinned. Forward planning saves the day again. He quickly opened the car and took out a penlight, some batteries and his towing cable, which he looped around his waist. He also opened the glove box to get his multi-purpose knife and retrieve a Snickers bar that he kept there for ‘emergencies’.

He then sat in the passenger side seat and turned on his phone. It rang immediately but Anthony had been ready for this and had cut it off before the first ring could echo through the tombstones.

‘Where the hell are you?’ Marty’s voice boomed through the earpiece. ‘I’ve been waiting for you to call for hours.’

‘Marty, shut up and listen. I’m still at the cemetery. Something is happening and I’m going to find out what. I don’t know when I’ll be able to get in touch again.’

There was silence on the line. ‘Something big?’

‘Looks like it but I can’t say more than that.’

‘If you’re screwing me around I’ll have your balls, you know that.’

‘Yes. Look I have to go. I’ll let you know what I find soon, I promise.’

‘You be careful….’ But Anthony had already turned the phone off again and was heading back down to the Memorial Gardens. He paused once to look at the new grave. It was resplendent in stone and marble on which stood a small statue of the Glitch. The inscription, on a concrete representation of an open book, read: -

The Glitch

A Hero Fallen

In the Line of Duty

And Honour

He will be missed

Not bad, Anthony thought, simple and to the point. The rest of the grave was a touch overstated but the epitaph was a least dignified. He hurried on down the path.

15 minutes to go. The Glitch could probably have made the journey about 10 times in that period. A pang of sadness tightened at his chest as the realisation hit him that the Glitch would never be speeding his way around the shire of Twin Rivers again. He took another look at the grave over his shoulder. Poor little guy.

Back down to the Gardens and through to the boundary fence which he vaulted and plunged once more into the dark bush. Bob was nowhere to be seen. His stepping stones were now completely under water, as he had thought, so he kept to the base of the cliff where there was still a small dry ledge of grass. He was more exposed this way but could still rely upon the cover given by the shadow of the few trees that were there and the absolute shade beneath the cliff.

As he came upon the inlet again, he saw that he was just in time. A pale light now illuminated the deck of the larger vessel. It was a Council Construction boat as he had thought. There were men flitting across the deck in the process of lowering a small flat-bottomed barge. Already in the water were a smaller inflatable and about half a dozen men in wet suits.

Once the barge was lowered, the men pushed it towards the opening of the storm water drain with the smaller inflatable being towed behind. It sat very low in the water and Anthony could see the dark shapes of various pieces of equipment in it. One by one everything vanished into the dark maw of the drain.

A sound from the boat alerted Anthony to the fact that there were still crewmen on board, who, under the pale blue light could be seen carrying walkie-talkies and one or two had rifles. This was definitely something major that he had stumbled across. He thought both silent thanks and a curse to Bob for getting him involved in this and then smiled. He wouldn’t have missed this for the world. The question was what to do now.

That was not really a question. He knew where he had to be and that was inside the storm water drain. The question was how. If he crept around to the opening by land he would soon run out of ground and it would be easier to see him from the boat. He could enter the water where he was without much fear of discovery but then it would take him longer to reach his destination. Not much choice really.

He made sure that his things were secure in the waterproof pockets of his dark Drizabone coat. It had cost him a fortune and his mates at the paper had laughed at him but it had proved itself over and over again. And it would do so again tonight, he thought grimly and hopefully in the future as well if he survived this.

He kept fully dressed. He had no idea where this adventure would lead him and so didn’t like the idea of leaving anything behind. Also the weight of his wet clothes would help keep him submerged which would help him avoid detection. Of course it would also hinder him coming up for breath but, hey, you can’t have everything. He crouched down and entered the water crocodile style, head first on his belly. This made the minimum of noise. He made sure of his bearings, took a huge lungful of air and went down into the blackness of the river. The wintry chill of it also made him catch his breath but he forced himself to let his clothes fill with water and then drag him to the bottom.

He used his hands to guide himself along the rocks, following the shoreline. Every second he expected to feel the thump of a bullet hitting him in the back. His lungs were just beginning to burn and he knew that soon he would have to surface for breath, when his fingers felt the smooth concrete of the opening’s lower lip. Gritting his teeth, he made his way in and along the passageway. The going now was hampered by the greasiness of the concrete and the fact that he had no idea how far away the team of divers was.

However it was no good. His head was thumping. He would have to surface and breathe. Heading for the surface he fought to keep the involuntary response of gasping under control, knowing that the echoes in the drain would amplify any sound that he made and possibly alert those ahead. His struggles were in vain. The sound of his gasp thundered in his ears and his laboured panting covered the sounds of people coming to get him.

Or so it would have been had not the drain been filled with the echoing roar of a hydraulic engine. It was this sound, Anthony realised, that had made his head thump while underwater. Looking back the way he came, he could just make out the drain’s opening against the darkness of the night. He was further in than he thought and thanked the still in-coming tide that must have carried him. He looked the other way into the drain. All was pitch black but that was the direction he had to go. His teeth were chattering and his clothes were now threatening to drag him back under the water permanently. Still he made his way to the side of the circular drain where he hoped to find some hand holds and some degree of footing while he carefully followed the sound.

The drain suddenly did a ninety-degree turn to the left. Now up ahead was a glimmer of light. Cautiously he continued to swim forward where there awaited another ninety-degree turn only this time to the right. There was more light now and Anthony could see that not too far ahead was another ninety degree also to the right. He increased his stroke and quickly came to the corner. Ahead was a ninety-degree turn to the left and the passageway was fully lit. Anthony wondered why anyone would design a storm water drain with a U bend but then the answer was staring him quite literally in the face. This light must have been on all the time he had made his way through the turns and he had not seen it until he had rounded the last two bends. From the river, the drain would still be dark and no one would even suspect that something was going on in here.

He peered around the last corner to see the two boats docked to a small concrete landing against the left hand wall of the drain. One man stood on this landing but the others were nowhere to be seen. Anthony slipt beneath the water again and made his way forward, trusting that any noise he might have made would be covered by the sounds of the engine. His head broke the surface next to the smaller inflatable and he gasped a breath just as the engine noise stopped. Silence echoed eerily throughout the drain and then came the distant sound of footfalls. He took a risk and climbed up slightly to peer over the edge of the landing only to see the man peering away from him into an open doorway. Through this doorway could be heard the footsteps.

‘Progress.’ The man on the landing barely whispered the word but it echoed clearly around the drain and apparently up to the other men as well.

‘We’re through the outer wall.’ The answer came back through the doorway and floated in the air with an unsettling disembodied quality. ‘About to enter the vault.’

‘Received.’ The man on the landing uttered the word and spun round to check up and down the drain, barely giving Anthony time to duck down to water level once again.

For the next fifteen minutes he dangled at the water’s edge, thankful for the small set of underwater steps on which he sat. These would presumably run down to the drain’s floor in the event of a very low tide. The guard on the landing moved periodically causing him to duck beneath the surface but other than that he had plenty of time to merely listen for the sounds coming from the door and think about what he had discovered.

The ‘Who’ of it was easily answered – these were definitely Council workers. The ‘Where’ was also easy to work out as they were obviously still under the cemetery. Anthony could see the ‘How’ of it but it was the ‘What’ and ‘Why’ aspects that were causing theories to spin around and around in his mind. Well not spin exactly as he was pretty sure by now that it was the Glitch’s body that they were after. It was the only explanation, however macabre that may be. But why would the Council want the Glitch’s body and what would they do with it?

He was no closer to an answer when a sound came from the door, three sharp metallic taps like a shovel on concrete. The guard immediately turned to the door before going to check on the boats. The cause for his activity was soon apparent as the sounds of approaching footsteps echoed from the door.

In no time there appeared the other five men. Four of them were carrying a casket while the fifth carried a large engine strapped to his back and pushed a small trolley containing pipes and metallic hoses. He put these into the larger boat while the others lowered the casket into the inflatable. He then turned to the door and closed it. The sound it made thundered through the drain.

‘Everything secure?’ The question was directed to the open air

‘Check’ was the reply. The leader checked that everything was in place and then, with a gesture, all of them jumped into the water.

While the attention had been directed to the doorway, Anthony had taken the opportunity to swim underwater further into the drain passed the landing. There he had waited at the other end until he could safely come back. He saw the men take their positions around the larger boat. The smaller inflatable was tethered to the larger boat as before and floated behind. It gave him an idea and he slipped through the water towards the inflatable.

The leader took his position at the bow of the boat and doused the lamp that had been providing the light. The drain was instantly pitch black, a roaring velvety darkness that was almost tangible. With barely a sound they deftly made their way through the U bend and headed towards the drain’s opening which now appeared very bright. Anthony hung onto the inflatable, thankful that he had made it before the light had been extinguished, and allowed them to take him out to the open air. If they had wondered about the extra weight they would take it for the weight of the casket.

His mind raced with various scenarios of escape. His easiest option was to release his grip, sink to the bottom and make his way to the bank, but then he would lose the trail and he wanted to see this one through. It was his job, after all, to expose how the Council had stolen the Glitch’s body but he wanted, no not wanted, needed to know why they wanted it. He had to make his decision soon as they were rapidly nearing the Council work vessel. His dark clothing wouldn’t keep him hidden for very much longer and he was very mindful of the rifles that the guards on the boat had been carrying.

Suddenly something black moved beneath him, a dark shape that surged up from the bottom past him and latched onto the inflatable. Anthony let go but was suddenly clamped by a pair of powerful black tendrils. There was a small crackling sound and the water around him tingled for a brief second before the inflatable surged away at a tremendous speed. Anthony fought for breath and the sounds of shots cracked in the still night air but his ears screamed with the high pitched whine of a powerful turbine engine. The speed was incredible especially in such a short time but he was still having trouble getting breath. He managed to struggle enough against his constraints to get his head above the water to draw a much needed lungful. Instantly the pressure surrounding him eased and he was able to reposition himself so that breathing was easier. He was still clamped tightly though and their speed had not lessened

The sounds of shouting carried across the water.

‘Now for some fun.’ The voice was electronic but Anthony could hear humour behind it. ‘Hold on to your hat, we’re going to try for some height.’ The water churned around him as they broke through the surface. The clamps holding him trembled and he could feel the power humming through them. His ears were filled with a high pitched whine and burned in the wind that whipped at his drenched clothing chilling him to the bone. The ride however was now not quite as smooth.

‘Damn,’ spat the electronic voice ‘this is going to be difficult.’

Anthony was being buffeted by the wind but now came the sensation of yawing and sliding from side to side as he was lifted away from the water’s churning surface. His stomach heaved and he could feel bile rising in his throat.

The terrifying ride suddenly dipped to the left and plummeted about six feet. This was halted by a dramatic climb that whip-lashed his head back and to the side. The contents of his stomach splashed through his chattering teeth and down the front of his coat. He couldn’t tell if it was nausea or the continuing terrifying ride that was causing his head to swim when he was whipped over onto his front and could feel himself falling straight down. The river hit him like a wall and everything went black.

He awoke to pitch black. No, not quite pitch black. Above he could see stars dipping in and out of shadows and around him the wind was whistling. Leaves. He was in a forest.

‘Where the …’ A hand clapped itself around his mouth. A hard hand covered in cold metallic ridges.

‘Shhh.’ The electronic voice hissed in his ear like static. ‘If you’re up to it, we’ll have to move from here very quickly. They don’t know we’ve come ashore but it won’t take them long to figure it out.’

Anthony turned his head to see a black shadow that gleamed metallically in the occasional starlight. He shook his head to rid himself of the hand silencing him. It was released and a black shadow detached itself from the general darkness in which he lay and stood above him.

‘V-TOL?’

‘Yes.’ The electronic voice sounded harshly in the darkness. Anthony’s eyes were getting accustomed to the gloom. They were in a forest and not far from them he could see the riverbank where the inflatable bobbed. From the river came the sounds of angry voices and of a large boat cruising close by. Suddenly a spotlight came on and swept across the river and into the trees some hundred meters away from where they were.

‘Can you move?’ The voice was insistent.

‘Yes. I can move’

‘Right.’ He went to the bank and dragged ashore the inflatable. He removed the casket from it and then covered it with branches. He then picked up the casket and came back to where Anthony lay.

‘Follow me. We’ll head away from the river and I will look for easy paths. I’ll have my hands full with this so let me know if you’re having trouble keeping up or if you get lost. Understand?’

Anthony nodded and stood groggily. He was still feeling sick but the darkness was soothing his head and he felt better to be on dry land. The wind was cold though and his teeth chattered. He was about to say something but V-TOL was already on the move. Anthony had to hurry or he would quickly lose the black-clad hero in the dark. In fact that was already past tense. V-TOL had disappeared.

‘Where are you? I can’t see you in the dark.’

‘Is this better?’ The voice came from all around but Anthony could suddenly see a red light pulsing about ten steps in front of him. It hovered motionless for a moment and then continued forward.

‘Much better, thanks.’ Anthony followed the light as best as he could in the dark forest. Ebony vines reached out for his legs and feet. Branches grabbed at his coat. All the time the red light stayed consistently in front of him but he could hear the sounds of V-TOL making his way through the scrub. Anthony’s legs were beginning to go numb with the cold and fatigue.

Twenty minutes later they came to a stop in the midst of a small clearing. Anthony fell to the ground panting and trying to rub some life back into his legs. V-TOL also sat, placing the casket gently to the ground before he did so. He seemed unaffected by their exertions but it was hard to tell in the darkness. Certainly no sound came from him. The only sound other than the wind was Anthony’s gasps for breath.

When these had subsided he sat silently waiting for instructions. V-TOL sat very still, his head cocked as if listening.

‘They’ve come ashore.’ He said suddenly ‘We don’t have much time. Look.’

Anthony turned and saw lights flickering through the trees in the distance.

‘How do you feel?’

Anthony was surprised at the concern for his welfare in such a situation.

‘Okay I guess. My stomach’s settled down a bit.’

‘Good. This was not exactly the way things were supposed to go tonight’ V-TOL came over to him ‘Pretty scary ride huh?’

Anthony was instantly apprehensive.

‘Yes.’

The hero’s face was a smooth plate of opaque glass but Anthony could almost sense the smile that was behind it.

‘Splendid, because the worst is yet to come.’ The electronic voice gave the definite impression of amusement. ‘We need to get this casket out of here in a hurry. Normally I would just fly it out but my instructions this evening were only to take you with me for a pre-arranged appointment. This grave-robbing situation was not anticipated.’ He paused, ‘Any suggestions? I have a couple but I want to hear your thoughts.’

Nothing came to Anthony’s mind, other than a concern about what the pre-arranged appointment could be and with whom, and the moment’s silence that followed was quite embarrassing. Although he couldn’t see V-TOL’s expression, he could almost feel the man’s smile hitch up another notch.

‘Fine then. Here’s what I suggest. I will carry the casket on my back and you will ride on top of the casket. It’ll be a strain but manageable. You’ll have to hold on though.’

Anthony’s expression must have indicated his thoughts on this suggestion because V-TOL barked an electronic laugh.

‘I’m open to other offers.’ The silence descended once again. Anthony looked at the casket. The only handholds that he could see were the handles on either side and he didn’t relish the idea of trying to hold on to these. It would mean that he had to press himself against the top to reach them and the way he was feeling he didn’t think he could maintain his grip for long. What he needed was something else to hang on to.

With that thought he remembered the tow rope he had brought from his car. He quickly opened his coat and unwound the rope from around his waist.

‘Well, aren’t you full of surprises?’ V-TOL was amused but he came forward and took the rope. He wound it twice around the casket and, after hoisting the casket onto his back, attached it to his breastplate beneath the armpits. Once done he crouched down on the ground.

‘Rig up for yourself something that you can hang on with.’

Anthony took the remaining ends of the rope and brought them up through the handles again and fashioned them into a loop.

‘Done.’

‘Good. Now hop on.’

‘What?’

‘Hop on. I’m going to have to take off from this position and it won’t be easy. You concentrate on staying up there and I’ll concentrate on getting us away.’

Anthony climbed on board, feeling very precarious. The lights through the trees were coming closer and he could hear shouted voices. He gripped the rope loop very tightly and a high-pitched whine came from beneath him.

Very slowly they rose into the air. Although the whine was constant in his ears he could hear from the voices that their cover was gone and the lights were now swinging into their direction. They would soon come crashing through the trees.

V-TOL now had them up at the level of the lower branches, his arms extended downwards. Something seemed to kick in because the whine increased in pitch and Anthony felt them jump upwards at a faster rate now. They were at the level of the treetops when a shot rang out in the air. The men must have burst into the clearing and were now firing at them. Hovering like this they were a sitting target.

Suddenly a brilliant light flashed in a stroboscopic moment leaving yellow blobs dancing across his retina. The light seemed to pierce through to his brain, bringing on his nausea again. He buried his face onto the lid of the casket trying to get his stomach under control.

By the time he raised his head again, they were flying quickly through the treetops. All he could see were the stars above and dark branches around him which they swayed and swerved to avoid. Occasionally through the trees he could see the distant lights of warehouses and factories, flicking by to the right.

Must be the Bayes Industrial area, he thought. We’re heading north.

Over trees they flew. The National Park extended north for hundreds of kilometres and west to the ranges, beyond which were Crown State Forest and a few farms. But it did not seem that they would be going that far. V-TOL was gradually curving to the left towards the ranges but he stayed low to the treetops, following natural valleys wherever he could.

Getting over his shock, Anthony tried to rise up into a sitting position. Instantly the casket rocked violently and they lost a few metres of height before V-TOL stabilised again. Anthony gave up the attempt and gripped tighter. In the darkness he could see all he needed to by simply raising his head. The wind was cold and seemed to cut into his cheeks and eyes. The dark trees blurred past. He wondered how long they would remain airborne. Then he wondered how long V-TOL could remain airborne, as it seemed that a fair deal of time had passed since they had taken off. Of course, he realised, in his position even a minute would seem like a long time. He needed to do something to occupy his mind, to help pass the time. His legs were starting to tremble from the effort of gripping the casket. He loosened his grip slightly. The trembling eased but he still stayed more or less firmly positioned. His right wrist was through the loop and he was lying on top of it. This was his anchor it seemed and so long as he hooked his legs and feet over the sides, he would stay on reasonably well. His right hand would start to get sore after a while but he would worry about that when it happened.

Something else was gnawing at the back of his mind. Something was not quite right. It caused