SHIAM Conspiracy- Book 1 (27 page)

. . .

He was uncertain how much time had passed
before he realized that everything was suddenly quiet. The ground
felt harder than it should have...concrete hard. He was
disoriented. His head throbbed, felt swollen to the touch where it
had been hit, and he instinctively knew that the warm liquid he
felt on his fingertips was blood.

“Knocking me around is getting to be a habit
with you. Get off of me!” Megan angrily pushed against him. Then
the anger drained from her voice. “I smell blood!”

“It’s just my head, don’t worry about it,”
Zak mumbled. He attempted to sit up, but slumped back down in
dizziness.

“Are you all right?” The transition to
concern he detected in Megan’s voice comforted him, her unexpected
touch grounding his fuzzy thoughts as she groped to find his wound.
“You may have a concussion.”

He tried sitting up again. Before he could
manage it, he froze, the fact that they were no longer in the
forest suddenly registering. The place was dark. He switched to his
Elf vision without realizing it, until he felt the pain in his head
begin to grow. A soft reddish glow drew his attention and he
focused on the familiar sight of the small prefab office of
Tanner’s Warehouse.

His first clear thought was how could it be
dark already? He immediately felt foolish, remembering that they
were in virtuality. Day could turn to night in the blinking of an
eye. He made a quick visual sweep of their surroundings. Again they
seemed to be in a perfect reproduction of Tanner’s Warehouse, this
time at ground level. There were no cops. Everything was dark and
deathly still.

“I’m all right.” He finally said to Megan,
shrugging her probing hands away. After realizing he was sitting on
the concrete floor, he attempted to stand in spite of the
dizziness, but didn’t get far before he ended up back on the hard
cement.

“There is more blood here than yours” Megan’s
voice trembled.

Her remark called his attention to it. The
tangy smell of fresh blood registered with his senses. The air was
thick with it. They searched for the blood source and found Harry
lying dead still on the concrete floor not far away. As Megan
rushed to Harry’s side, Mashkkha’s voice suddenly called out from
the darkness.

“Where are we?” He sounded groggy and
confused.

Zak guessed that he’d just regained
consciousness. “Tanner’s Warehouse, it would seem.”

“What in demon’s hell is going on!” Mashkkha
demanded. “If we’re back in the warehouse, how did it get dark
already? And where are my people?”

Zak made no comment. Now was not the time to
argue over the reality of their situation. Or the lack of it. He
made another attempt to stand. His head protested the move. He
abandoned his Elf vision hoping it would relieve some of the pain
and forced himself to his feet. The pain remained, both in his head
and in his left shoulder. His left arm also felt numb. He tried
gently rotating his shoulder as he stood. The pain surged, but he
concluded that the injury wasn’t serious.

“How’s Harry?” he asked Megan.

“He is in really bad shape,” Megan answered
from the darkness. “I have used a healing incantation to help
stabilize him, but we need to get him out of here. He needs a
doctor or a proper healer!”

Before Zak could respond, he was suddenly
overcome by another sensation. Death hung thickly in the blackness
that surrounded them. It was so strong he wondered how he could not
have detected it until now. He heard a startled sound catch in
Megan’s throat and knew her Elvish senses had just kicked in as
well.

He wished he had a flashlight with him, but
no such luck. He made an involuntary grimace as he switched back to
his Elf vision.

It didn’t take him long to get his bearings.
He slowly moved toward the line of workbenches not far away. The
bodies were right where he and Megan had found them the night
before. He looked down in disbelief. The wounds were fresh, still
in the process of bleeding out. The pooling blood beneath each Elf
appeared nearly black in the darkness. Bending down he checked the
first body and confirmed that it was still warm. These Elves had
been shot only minutes before. Suddenly he was not so sure that
this was virtuality. But it had to be, his logic insisted. If they
were somehow in the real world, that would mean they had travelled
back five days in time.

The unmistakable sound of a large shipping
door sliding closed echoed through the dark silence of the
warehouse. They had just missed the thieving murderers by
minutes.

Zak was tempted to go after them, but Megan
called out to him. There was no time for pursuit. No time to debate
whether they were still in virtuality, or theorize over the
possibility of time travel. Harry’s injuries had to take priority
for the moment.

Megan looked up at Zak as he returned, her
expression haunted.

She knew what he had found. She knew, but
resisted going to see for herself. The pain was in her eyes, in the
drawn expression on her face. Zak wished there was something he
could do to comfort her.

“Let’s try to get him to the security office.
Maybe I can figure out how to get us back to the world from there.”
His head continued to pound, the stress of using his Elf vision
adding to the effects from the blows he’d taken.

Time and space... Real or virtual... He was
not feeling very self-assured at all right now.

T
hey had gotten only part way to the
stairs leading up to the security office when their surroundings
again blinked out. When they blinked back in they found themselves
back among tall trees, the sun filtering down through branches
dense with lush green leaves. With all that had happened none of
them even raised the question of where they were. At this point,
all that mattered was that they find a way to get Harry medical
assistance as soon as possible.

“So, now what?” Mashkkha asked.

He and Zak were sharing the burden of
carrying Harry. They had him braced between them, using their
clasped hands as a makeshift seat, his arms thrown over and
dangling from their shoulders. Harry was in bad shape, as Megan had
said. He was unconscious. His forehead was a deep purple from an
ugly bruise, his right arm broken. Zak felt a wetness running down
his own arm, the hole in Harry’s side leaking blood again. Before
they moved him, Megan had removed a large piece of tree branch from
the wound. She had been able to stop the bleeding and had
stabilized him the best she could, but the wound had reopened. He
had other minor cuts and bruises as well. It was all too obvious
that Harry had taken the brunt of the blast back at the
clearing.

Zak motioned to Mashkkha to set Harry down
and they gently lowered him onto the narrow path they now found
themselves on.

“We should keep moving,” Megan said, after
tending to Harry. “At least we can put some distance between us and
the portal.”

“Or hope we do,” Zak said. His injured
shoulder was throbbing from carrying the injured wizard and he
rubbed at it, hoping it would provide some relief from the constant
pain. It didn’t. He tried to put it out of his mind and added, “The
way we are popping in and out all over the place, it’s hard to say
where we’re going to turn up next.”

“I’m going to bust Aakil down to beat cop
when I get out of here,” Mashkkha’s ruddy complexion was a few
shades darker than normal, indicating that he also was not in the
best of shape to carry Harry through the woods. “Aakil should have
pulled us out when he saw we were in trouble!”

“Perhaps he has tried and could not,” Megan
said.

“Well, let’s hope he doesn’t pull us out now
until we can find an exit,” Zak said. “If the exit protocols aren’t
in place, the shock even to a healthy person would be pretty hard
on their system. It could very well kill Harry in his
condition.”

“Well, that’s just great!” Mashkkha
growled.

“We don’t have time to stand here and discuss
it.” Zak bent down and waited for Mashkkha to help lift Harry once
again. “We seem to be on some sort of foot path. I don’t have a
clue what kind of virtual setting this is supposed to be, but a
path usually means people...virtual or otherwise. If we can find
help, virtual healing can often be just as effective as real
medical care when it comes to injuries that occur in
virtuality.”

Megan took the lead and slowly they made
their way along the twisted path. Both Zak and Mashkkha struggled
as they carried Harry’s limp form. They were both injured and
tired. The narrow path made it even more difficult, as dead
branches and exposed roots hidden beneath dead leaves made their
footing treacherous. They went as fast as they could manage without
jostling the injured wizard any more than necessary. And that meant
they moved pretty slowly. Zak did the best he could to look for an
access point along the way, but there didn’t seem to be any in this
stretch of virtuality.

They made frequent stops for Megan to check
on Harry’s condition. She never commented, but Zak could see the
concern on her face grow with each stop. Harry remained unconscious
all the while.

The poorly tended trail eventually turned
into a wider path. They had been travelling for some time without
any abrupt changes to their surroundings. Dense woods continued to
border either side of them until they finally came to another
clearing.

This one was much more pleasant than the
previous clearing they’d come upon. An open gate hung loosely from
a wood rail fence, beyond a small cabin stood in a well groomed
yard. An abundance of flowers and shrubs had been neatly planted
throughout the yard, softening the frontier style of the cabin, its
roughly hewn logs stacked one upon another and packed with dried
earth to seal the cracks between them. A wood shingled roof sloped
relatively low to the ground, indicating that the cabin was a
single-story dwelling. The front door at the centre of the
structure had been shaped with equally rough blows from an axe and
the windows on either side of the door were no more than
rectangular cut outs without the benefit of glass. Heavy shutters,
of the same workmanship as the door, hung from each window for
security. These were now open, however, with only ragged looking
burlap curtains hanging from each window as a means of separating
outdoors from in.

To the left of the house a pile of uncut logs
waited to become firewood. An overturned wheelbarrow lay not too
far from the woodpile, as though someone had dropped it and left in
a hurry. The place seemed deserted in the deep silence of the
forest surrounding it, although it had not been abandoned long
judging by the condition of the yard.

Zak called out several times as they stopped
at the open gate. There was no answer.

“Nobody here,” he concluded.

“You guys take Harry inside and get him
comfortable,” Megan said. She turned off to the right just before
the entrance into the yard. “I am going to look around for some
medicinal plants or herbs.”

“Wait and I’ll come with you,” Zak said.

“I am a big girl,” she answered. “I can take
care of myself.”

“I’m not sure what would happen if we shift
again and we’re not together. I’ll come with you!” Zak
insisted.

“You take care of Harry,” she said. As she
disappeared among the tall trees she called back, “Keep him
warm!”

Zak cursed under his breath. There was little
he could do to stop her until he was able to get Harry situated. He
said to Mashkkha, “Hurry up and let’s get him inside.”

They found the door to the cabin not only
unlocked, but unlatched as well. Inside, the cabin was small but
cozy. A fireplace was inlaid in one wall, a large black cooking pot
hanging in it. Although there was no fire burning at the moment, a
pile of cut logs in the near corner was ready for use. Furniture
was sparse and, like pretty much everything else in the cabin, cut
from logs. Four stools were gathered around the fireplace, each
roughly cut and supported by three short legs. A wood table stood
against another wall. Four bowls and a collection of utensils were
set out on the table, along with a couple of ceramic jars. A
sleeping loft had been constructed in the roof peak and several
blankets could be seen heaped in a pile near the edge, a ladder
propped against the far wall was the only access.

No way were they going to get Harry up to the
sleeping area in his condition. They eased him down onto the dirt
floor.

“We need to keep him warm. I’ll go up and get
some blankets.”

Zak was three quarters of the way up the
ladder when something down below caught his attention. A large
burlap sack sat in the corner near the fireplace. In bold black
lettering printed across the side of the bag were the words
Tahmore General Store
. The memory trigger was immediate.
Tahmore
. It was the name on the sign Megan had seen in her
vision while making contact with the portal inside Tanner’s
Warehouse. And the sense of familiarity came back stronger than
ever. “By the Maker, I
know
I’ve heard of Tahmore somewhere
else before!”

“What?” Mashkkha asked, turning toward him
with a puzzled look on his face.

“Nothing,” he said, but his mind continued to
search for where he’d heard the name before. He remained distracted
as he climbed the ladder to the loft and retrieved two blankets
from one of the straw mats he found up there. As he began making
his way down the ladder, Zak absently glanced out the nearby
window, which looked out onto the rear of the cabin. His blood
froze.

“Oh, crap!” He scrambled down the ladder and,
throwing the blankets in Mashkkha’s general direction, ran straight
out the door.

He kept running all the way around to the
rear of the cabin. Mashkkha followed close behind, Harry forgotten
for the moment, his gruff voice calling out, “What... What is
it?”