Portent (42 page)

    And prior to all these calamitous and astonishing events, strange lights were observed. Some claimed to have seen only a single but wonderfully bright star, while others swore there were clusters of lights performing in odd ways, skimming erratically through the sky, circling each other, soaring up to the heavens to glide earthwards again without ever touching the ground; a few said the stars had joined together as one mass of shining light…

    

    

    The journey to Hazelrod was long and arduous. The roads near to London were jammed with traffic as those who were able to fled the ruined capital, afraid of the aftershock that might follow the earthquake. Emergency services called in from the closest counties rushed by in the opposite direction, lights flashing, sirens wailing. Private vehicles headed towards the disaster area too, and Rivers could only surmise that the drivers were either ghoulish sightseers or those who had family or friends caught up in the earthquake. Perhaps others merely wanted to help.

    After filling up with petrol, Rivers had avoided the motorway completely, deciding the minor roads might be less congested. And so they were, but only relatively so.

    In exposed stretches the wind, which had strengthened considerably, rocked the car and bent the branches of trees. The sky had darkened even more as the clouds hurried south: they were black turbulent masses that hid the sun and turned daylight into dusk. Rain had begun to fall in torrents and was whipped by the wind into a driving force that beat at the windscreen and roof of the car. Thunder rolled in the distance and each time they heard it, Rivers and Diane wondered if the sound was from the skies or the earth below.

    They drove past accidents more than once, cars jammed into each other because their drivers had been distracted by their own concerns or by the pelting rain. More fire engines roared past them in both directions and at other times it was ambulances or police cars. Sometimes it was all three together. Diane switched on the radio, but interference was so bad from local radio stations that they soon gave up trying to listen. From the main London frequencies there was nothing at all.

    When they had travelled quite a distance and were approaching the town of Guildford, the car began to vibrate. They pulled over to the side of the road but the tremor did not last long. It hadn't been strong, but it increased their tension.

    Diane checked on Josh to find him sleeping. His face was pale and occasionally his lips moved as if he were carrying on a conversation in his dream. She thought it wise to leave him be even though his sleep seemed troubled.

    Their journey took them through country towns and villages, some of whose streets were deserted as if the residents were hiding from something more than just the storm. In a few of the larger towns the roads were blocked solid with traffic with perhaps one policeman or traffic warden trying to sort out the mess and inevitably making it worse. Rivers asked Diane to try the radio again and this time, although static was still bad, they managed to catch snatches of news. The obvious topic was the London earthquake, but the newscaster on the local frequency they had picked up gave reports of other global disasters, many of them as cataclysmic as England's.

    'Now perhaps they'll understand,' Rivers had commented and Diane was not sure if he meant Sheridan and those he had to advise, or the world in general. She switched off when the interference worsened and they drove on in silence. It took a long time to work through some of the traffic's snarl-ups, but after a while they found themselves on open roads. Diane tried to reach Hazelrod again from a remote telephone box in one of the lanes they were passing through; she returned to the car frowning and shook her head when Rivers raised his eyebrows at her. By now she was desperately worried and urged him to make better progress, but because of the conditions there was little he could do to hasten their journey.

    They saw lightning flashes, mostly on the horizon, and the clouds were low and heavy. Now and again the rain eased, but this was due to shifts in the wind rather than an alleviation in the downpour. Once or twice they saw in the distance more of the white steaming towers of boiling water rising from open countryside or cultivated fields. The thunder was moving closer and a cornfield they were passing suddenly blazed as a lightning bolt struck it; the persistent rain soon doused the fire, but the event triggered something in Rivers' mind.

    'The lights we saw over the city,' he said, diverting Diane's attention from the still-sleeping boy.

    'The warnings? What about them, Jim?'

    'Lightning rises from the earth or grounded object to the sky, not the other way round as most people imagine. It's caused when the negatively charged base of a cloud induces a positive charge from the ground and the current leaps up along the conductive channel of negative particles from above.'

    'The energy came from the lights themselves?'

    'I think so.'

    'But the lightning also joined them together.'

    'Some kind of chain reaction between positive and negative. The lights must contain both.'

    'You're saying these things are more than just pretty illuminations?'

    'They're full of concentrated energy, don't you see?'

    She did see, but wasn't sure where the notion led them. The Dream Man had told Rivers that the lights were portents, warnings that something was about to happen, without explaining their origin. 'Then I don't understand where this energy comes from,' she said. They have to have a source… don't they?'

    Rivers did not reply. He kept his eyes on the road ahead, but Diane could tell by his expression that his mind was a turmoil of thought. Then he said, 'I think they come from us.'

    The main street of the next village they came to was blocked by fallen masonry; they soon learned that the area had suffered an earth tremor powerful enough to demolish the spire and tower of the village's ancient church. It took quite a time for Rivers to reverse and find another route that would lead them back on to the right roads again.

    The blackened sky was lit up by lightning flashes every few minutes or so by now, with no indication that the storm would soon pass, and Diane began to wonder just how much longer Rivers could continue this nightmare journey; he'd had little sleep the night before and had been exhausted when he had returned to the hotel. She offered to take over the wheel, but he declined; he told her he preferred to be doing something while the world around them went to hell.

    They had to stop several times and use other roads when the way ahead was flooded; and sometimes the sheer force of the rain obscured their vision totally, despite the overworked wipers, and they were forced to halt and wait for the worst to pass. Eventually they were within a mile of Hazelrod, but by now night had fallen and added to the darkness around them.

    And before they had reached the muddy track that would lead them to the house, Josh started screaming.

    

    

    He steadied himself as the walls around him, the roof above him, and the ground beneath him shuddered. He felt the vibration course through his thin legs, but he was no longer afraid. At least, he was not as afraid as he had been.

    The final moment was nearly here.

    The final moment for him.

    But perhaps a new beginning for mankind.

    If those who laboured towards a different outcome were defeated.

    And if they learned the lesson of this terrestrial holocaust.

    A deeper judder nearly sent the old man backwards, but he recovered and staggered to the door. Once outside he took five steps forward and stopped. From above he heard the shrill cry of the eagle. Was it leaving this valley in search of a safer abode as the other birds had? Surely it was protected on the high ground? But no, rocks would have tumbled, crevasses would have opened, and nowhere was safe. Better to seek new ground, for food alone would be hard to find for some time.

    The roaring was from both directions, his keen ears told him, a seething maelstrom of sound, a rushing storm of water; but one was closer.

    The Great Glen had finally succumbed to the wise man's prophecy. The Earth itself had shifted along the massive trench rift and the seas from both shores were pouring in to fill the deep channel it had created. Ah, pity those who had perished either in the eruption itself, or now, under the deluge as ocean and sea raced to join with each other. He prayed for their souls, and he prayed for the lives of those left behind, not just here in these rugged regions of the north, but for those who would survive the Earth's grand tragedy, for there would be much for them to accomplish once peace returned and the terrible forces were rested once more, much for them to sow, and much for them to learn again. The world, they would find, was to be a different place.

    If…

    He shuffled around to his right, wind and rain pounding at his upturned face, for there the noise was loudest. It was from there, along that long and thin gulley that eventually led to the western coast and the Atlantic Ocean that the waters would arrive first.

    The trembling of the land had ceased, but it was the old man himself who trembled now as fear returned. Yes, he knew fear, for death itself was invariably painful and the paradise that was waiting was hard to contemplate at such a time. Still he prayed, and not for himself: he prayed for those who, at this very moment of earthly metamorphosis, fought the evil that sought to destroy. The evil that endeavoured to end it here. In the hands-in the minds-of the innocents lay mankind's destiny and only their champions could deliver them from the physical malevolence that conspired against them. He thought of the one who had found him only yesterday, a man who knew suffering, and one who bore the frailties and weaknesses so inherent in the human race, yet still had the goodness in him to achieve so much; and he wondered if this man was resolute enough to succeed. His task, like that of so many others around the world, was to help the little ones to assert their power. But would he-would they be firm enough in spirit? Some would lose, the law of uncertainly decreed that. But others would win through and he prayed there would be enough of them.

    Yet the answer to this he would never know. At least, not in this world would he know.

    He heard his animals bleat their terror as they fled or sought false sanctuary within the walls of the cottage and he felt sadness for them. Just as he felt pity for every living creature in this wonderful but abused planet. His blind old eyes wept for them even though it was too late for such pity.

    He fell to his knees as the waters rushed into the valley towards him, and its booming terror took any other sounds from his ears.

    And when they crushed his weary body he welcomed the oblivion and hoped for the paradise.

    

    

    'Hush, Josh, it's just a bad dream. Everything's okay now, we're nearly home.'

    Rivers had stopped the car so that Diane could climb into the back and comfort her near-hysterical son.

    'The witch…' Josh was saying over and over again '… she's waiting… she's here…'

    The interior light was on and Rivers could see the stark terror in the boy's eyes and the drawn whiteness of his face.

    'There's no witch, Josh,' Diane told him soothingly. 'You've had a nasty dream, like the one you had the other night, that's all.' On the night they had been unable to wake Eva, she reminded herself. Had they both had the same nightmare? 'Not far to go now, Josh, just a little ways. Don't you want to see Eva? I bet she's wide awake waiting for us to come home.'

    Josh clutched his mother even more tightly. 'The witch lady, Mama, Eva knows the witch lady.'

    Diane looked at Rivers in desperation.

    'Maybe he'll calm down once he's back in familiar surroundings,' he said quietly to her. 'It's hardly surprising he's in a state with everything we've seen today.'

    Diane nodded. 'Let's get him home.'

    Rivers swung round and engaged gear once again. Although the wind still nudged the car, the rain had become a drizzle, and the headlights cut through the darkness, rendering the trees and shrubbery peculiarly one-dimensional. Josh's cries had become a weary whimpering by the time Rivers turned the car into the muddy track leading down to Hazelrod. By the time they pulled into the courtyard, he was quiet.

    Rivers slammed down on the brake just inside the entrance, sending Diane and her son sliding forward in their seats. She stopped them both from slipping on to the floor by pushing her elbow against the back of Rivers' seat. She looked at him in surprise, then followed his gaze towards the house. In all there were three cars inside the courtyard: Hugo Poggs' Toyota, Mack's pick-up parked across the yard outside his apartment over the stables, and a metallic grey Grenada. But it was something lying close to the porch steps that Rivers was staring at.

    Diane spoke with a flat kind of dread in her voice. 'It looks like a body,' she said, then added, 'Oh God.'

    Advancing slowly, his foot soft on the pedal, Rivers swung the car around slightly so that the lights played fully on the object on the ground. He brought the car to a gentle halt.

    'I think it's…' Diane began to say, but he had already switched off the engine and opened the door.

    'Wait here,' he told her.

    'No, I'm coming with you.' She was out of the car and moving towards the body before he could protest. Rivers turned before he got out to warn Josh to stay where he was and it was at that moment that flash lightning lit up the car's interior. Josh was frozen in that brief, flickering blaze: he could have been made of white marble, he was so still and pale, his eyes wide but not moving. The light was soon gone, but the thought lingered on: with his shock of black hair against his pallid skin, Josh had looked like a tiny elfin-creature from a child's storybook. Thunder rumbled somewhere in the distant hills.