Paralysis Paradox (Time Travel Through Past Lives Adventure Series Book 1) (21 page)

I started to shiver uncontrollably. Not surprising, as the kindly man whom I considered as good as family had just tried to use me as a hostage in a shoot-out. And my dad had acted so heartless—asking Tom not to ‘damage’ me! Staring at the screen made me feel drowsy. But I didn’t want to drop off again and wait another few days to return. I was somewhere safe; warm even, despite my own shivers, and with a beautiful woman. I sensed Catherine’s hand touch mine.

‘Are you all right, Charlie? You look ever so pale,’ she whispered.

‘I’m fine; it’s just the light.’

‘Oh good,’ she giggled, ‘I don’t want you to injure yourself every time you see me.’

‘It’s just my gallant nature...’

‘Shh!’ someone hissed from behind.

Catherine looked back at the screen, but her warm hand remained on mine. Her touch soothed away the pain I was feeling about Tom. I tried not to wonder where the Mad Hatter had gone to or when I would see my brother Henry again. Feeling myself dropping off, I furiously rubbed my eyes and pinched my leg to ensure that I made it through that diabolic motion picture. At last the curtain fell, the lights came up, and we were free to leave.

Arm in arm, Catherine and I headed across a few streets and started walking home along the River Rea.

‘It is quite late, Charlie; shouldn’t we walk along Alcester Road? I’ve heard that a lot of knackers live along this way.’

I was about to respond that there were no slaughter houses here, but then remembered that the term ‘knackers’ had come to be used here in reference to unsavoury types. It fitted well: the real knackers I knew in my Richard life were indeed mostly unpleasant and unloved.

‘Of course not, this way is much nicer, and faster too,’ I replied.

‘Aren’t you scared?’

‘I oft feel scared, but not of knackers!’ Seeing her look of dejection, I added, ‘Sorry, I am meant to just be manly and say no, am I not?’

‘Oh no, you are manly, Charlie, and bright too. At least that’s what my father used to say.’

I sensed the sadness in her tone when she mentioned the doctor, although I doubted he had ever said that. He had warned me off her, but I wasn’t going to tell her that.

‘I’m so sorry about your father, you know. I—I, um, don’t know what to say. Do you want to ask me anything?’

‘No, why would I?’

‘Well, as I was his last patient, I thought you might have questions—the police had plenty!’ Seeing that she looked concerned, I tried to explain. ‘I learnt from a psychiatrist friend of Dad’s that talking about the past is good, so you can face things and move on from them.’

Oh crap, I was talking about a friend of Vicky’s father!

‘Your father’s friends with a what?’

‘I’m sorry...my own friends often say I don’t make sense!’

‘Yes, Arthur has warned me. But Charlie, let’s turn off and go another way.’ Catherine nodded towards two scruffy old men, who regarded us menacingly as we approached along the path. Her grip around my arm tightened.

‘No, it is fine!’ I declared, liking how she held on to me.

We walked towards these men staring at us with such venom. Part of me wanted Catherine to see that I was brave, as if some masculine, hormonal response to danger when women are threatened had taken over. Anyway I was ready; my mind played through some of the moves in my head and I felt my heart pounding as adrenaline surged through my veins. It was time to put some of Adwoliu’s training to the test.

As we came within a few yards of them, I grinned broadly and tipped my cloth hat. ‘Good evening!’

With that, one man stepped straight into our track and the other stood behind, blocking an escape. I could feel Catherine shaking beside me, but I had to withdraw my arm from her. I turned sideways, so I could see the fellow behind me too.

‘It is for us, aye. Give us your money and pay the toll,’ one man said.

‘Toll for what?’ I asked.

‘The fucking toll for walking out of here ali—’

The back of my palm struck his jugular and the roof of my boot smashed between his legs so rapidly that he was already falling as I twisted my torso to face the other guy. I raised my free hand, in case he was able to land a blow.

‘What the—’ he swung for me. He missed.

Almost automatically, I ducked away from his fist despite my raised arm intercepting it, My defensive move also enticed him off balance, so I easily pushed him from behind. He stumbled and, with another rapid palm punch into his lower back, fell into the river with a yelp and a splash.

Catherine screamed out and I turned, expecting the man I originally hit to have grabbed her, but she was just standing there in the moonlight with her hands to her mouth and looking down. I could see that our first assailant was twitching and having some sort of seizure.

I caught hold of her hand. ‘Come on!’

‘But shouldn’t we help? Look, he’s in trouble.’

‘They just tried to mug us for God’s sake!’ I barked at her.

We ran further along the path for a while at a steady trot. Eventually slowing down, we both looked back, but no one was following us.

‘You see, no problem,’ I declared, rather proud of my act of chivalry.

‘What? How can you say that? You led me along this way, ignoring the fact that I didn’t think it safe, without any consideration for my feelings. It’s not even proper to be out in the dark like this, just the two of us. I dare say you wouldn’t have suggested it if my father were still alive, would you?’

‘That’s not fair!’ I stuttered my defence, genuinely shocked.

Would Vicky be like this, I wondered? Actually, she probably would be. Catherine was angry and venting at me, just as I had managed to release some of my anger on our muggers. I took a slow inhalation; the air felt bracing. It was good. Whether Catherine liked it or not, I had experienced control for a moment. If only I could do this for the rest of my lives!

‘You are only angry because you were afraid.’

‘Yes, I was afraid, and it’s your fault, just like whatever happened to my father is your bloody fault!’ Catherine screamed unexpectedly. ‘If you hadn’t scratched your back and played the dying swan act, my father would still be alive!’ She burst into tears.

I tried to hug her, which I thought was the best thing, but she pushed me away, as if in shame as well as anger. Red-faced, she wiped away her tears.

‘And you wouldn’t dare touch me if my dear Frederick were still alive. I’ve been to two funerals in as many weeks and have somehow taken strength from your kindness. But thinking about how you behaved just now gives me the creeps!’

I gasped. ‘No, please, Catherine, don’t be like this!’ It was as if I was being pushed into the ice-cold river.

‘Just walk me home, please, and we don’t ever have to meet again.’

I considered pleading with her to change her mind, but she started walking at quite a pace. The longer we walked unattached, the harder it became to break the silence. After half an hour of agonising quiet we arrived at her front door, and at last she spoke.

‘Listen, I know it isn’t your fault really, but it’s just that I can’t rest until I know what happened to my father.’

‘I thought the mortician, I mean coroner, concluded that it was misadventure...’ I started before she placed her finger over my mouth. Despite the circumstances, I could feel myself tingling from my lips inwards—she so electrified me, all the more so when she was angry or afraid.

‘I think it’s best that you don’t say anything, Charlie; everything you say seems to upset me. I’m trying to tell you that I cannot see anyone, or feel anything, not really, until my soul is at rest. I need to know the truth. You and I both know that a grown and sober man doesn’t just fall into a pond and drown. And poor Frederick, beaten to death for a few sovereigns. I am sorry!’ She broke off, and ran to the door. I watched as she let herself in, then turned and trudged home.

***

Later, as I neared my home I spied Arthur and Walter standing outside my path. Arthur sat on the metal gate, smoking away, and Walter was kicking him idly back and forth. I had hardly spoken to them since the fight at the pub and the darn police interrogation that followed. I was not in the mood.

‘What do you two want?’ I asked.

‘Oh, Charlie, we’re your friends, remember?’

‘You used to be,’ I replied simply. ‘Excuse me, I’m cold and want to get home now.’

‘Don’t you want to know why we’re here?’

‘Not really.’ I tried to get past, but Walter pulled the gate closed with his foot, and now Arthur sat with his face in mine.

‘Where’s George?’ he asked, as both Evan and Mac appeared. They had been standing, hidden in the dark.

‘You told me he ran away, ’cause of the knife.’

‘No I never—you told me that, Charlie,’ he said, glaring at me.

I took a deep breath and heard my heart pumping again. What about George? George had been missing since the day after the Swanshurst fire. The last time I’d seen him was when Arthur punched me at the parish church. Arthur had said that he’d decided to run away because of his knife, but what if these guys had killed him, too?

I sensed the adrenaline kicking in again. Let the brain go quick, and quiet the heart. You fight cold, not hot. With purpose, with poise, with decisive precision. Choose what level of pain is necessary. Did I need to incapacitate them? No, I would not be running from this fight. My home was just here. I thought about the moves that might stop them hitting me back and give lasting pain. I guess breaking bones might do that, but that was unnecessarily extreme.

‘You are just plain nasty, you know that, Arthur?’ I responded, careful to keep my face just close enough so that he could literally feel my bile as it spat upon him.

He wiped his face, and inside I grinned. My brain was sharp and I was ready to fight again. Part of me longed to see how I would do now against Arthur. He had always been so big. When we were kids I watched quite a few kids get battered by him, but he was a bully and at last I was standing up to him. But I wasn’t finished yet.

‘I have seen what you and Walter are capable of, and I suspect that one of you murdered Catherine’s father and that Frederick oaf, that’s why. Now, can you get out of my way? I’m tired, but I will pray for the both of you!’

I opened the latch and swung the gate, and Arthur on top of it, open. I looked at Arthur but kept Walter in my peripheral vision, feeling sure that if they did attack, it would be together. I could see both my parents standing at the window and was sure that my father would come out any moment now.

‘Pray for yourself, Charlie!’ said Arthur as he let himself down from our gate.

Seeing red, I went to grab him, but an arm slammed into my neck from behind and I fell forwards. Walter kicked first and I heard my nose crack as the cap of his boot hit my face. I closed my eyes after that and tried to bring my legs up as I received several kicks from all around me. Where was my father? Walter and Mac hauled me up and onto my feet. I ached all over and had blood pouring over my mouth, the salty taste reminding me of my humanity. Evan stood to the side, his hands over his mouth. I could not be sure, but I hoped that he had not joined in and kicked me. I had come to like him, just as I had come to distrust my original friends.

‘Just tell us where George is and we’ll stop!’ said Arthur, looming over me.

I yanked my right arm and managed to pull Mac downward, then raised my knee and smacked it into his face. He fell, but both Arthur and Walter jumped on me as I fell on top of him. Now my mind was racing—why was Pa not helping me? I rolled myself into a ball and heard new, older voices. The police! Sensing the boys being pulled off me, I managed to stand up with the help of a policeman. Mac’s face was covered in blood like mine, and I was glad of it.

‘Calm down, lads, no need to make this harder than it needs to be,’ retorted a familiar voice.

It was the same policeman who had talked to me after Catherine’s father’s death. I was expecting him to arrest them for beating me up, but instead he turned to me.

‘Charles Sanders, you are under arrest for the murder of Dr Morris Koestler, Mr Frederick Bates, and Mr George Schmidt, and for intentionally setting Swanshurst Farm alight.’

Arthur, Mac, and Walter smirked, although Evan looked sad, and I watched in amazement as my parents just stayed standing at the front window. It dawned on me that all my friends and family really did blame me. Just as Catherine had earlier. It even made me wonder if I had committed those crimes. My state of confusion was only made worse by Arthur’s parting words.

‘I will be here for you, Charlie; I will stay your friend. Because even though you
can’t remember
, I can...’

I waited above this Alpha’s carcass, noticing how a few of these monkeys had decided to eat some of its cooked bio-based circuitry. Now if you wanted some real nutrients, you would want to tuck in to the super-rare elements used in its transport mechanisms, but then I doubted these scavengers had the stomach for them. In fact there was a chance that even some of the bio-circuitry could be lethal, and clearly these creatures did not have the right senses to avoid such rare toxins, as they had scoffed them down.