Hexad: The Chamber
Read Hexad: The Chamber Online
Authors: Al K. Line
"The First Rule of Time Travel...
Hexad
The Chamber
(Hexad Book 2)
Copyright © 2015 Al K. Line
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All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Digging
Present Day
"Who the hell are you?" Dale felt beads of sweat pricking his skin in rolling waves, shivering over his body like he was lying on the shores of his own sanity, a cold madness trying to drag him under.
"Huh? What do you mean Dale? It's me, Amanda. Go to sleep, you just had a bad dream." Amanda put her head back on the pillow, hair cascading over onto his side of the bed.
What's wrong with me? This doesn't feel right; this doesn't feel right at all
.
Dale looked at the face of the already sleeping Amanda, then glanced over at the clock, a retro Bakelite gift she had got him when his old one broke, orange curves making it as much a work of art as a functional object.
His head felt funny. Everything felt funny, even reality, and the woman beside him definitely felt wrong. What was going on? Ah, the booze, that was it. The wine from the night before, and the conversation. That damn conversation.
What had they talked about? Time travel, that was right. They'd gone totally off on one about how crazy it would be if in the morning they went and dug up proof that time travel existed from under the apple tree.
It's messing with my head, that's all.
Dale knew he wouldn't be able to get back to sleep, and besides, his head was hurting and he needed a glass of water. Overriding all else however was the undeniable fact he was in desperate need of a pee.
Mind clouded by confusion and alcohol, Dale staggered to the bathroom and relieved himself. He drank water from the tap until he felt like his belly would burst, then popped a couple of paracetamol before creeping slowly back into the bedroom, dread crawling up his back like his cerebrospinal fluid had been replaced with liquid nitrogen.
He got dressed quietly, taking surreptitious glances at the sleeping form in the bed. What was wrong with him? How could this not be Amanda? It was that time travel talk, it must be. Putting stupid ideas in his head, mixing everything up until it made no sense and all he could think of was different timelines, different universes — realities where anything and everything could happen and he could have just this minute gone off, changed his own reality, so that he now had no concept of a future he had once lived but would now never come to pass.
Ugh, it was enough to make your head split open, and the pills certainly weren't going to help if he kept thinking such strange thoughts.
Dale took one more look at Amanda before moving closer and kissing her on the temple — it didn't help. There was that fragrance again. That wasn't her, not what she smelled like. He knew her scent anywhere. He knew what she smelled like when fresh from the shower, after love-making, when sweaty from exercise and any other possible situation.
This wasn't her.
With a head feeling like cotton wool, Dale went into the kitchen. He needed coffee; lots of it.
~~~
Somehow he found himself out in the garden, grabbing a trowel from the shed. Feeling very embarrassed and like a first class idiot he began to dig a hole three paces to the right and one back from the old apple tree that already had tiny fruit growing amid the cascade of dense green foliage.
A squirrel watched with interest from the safety of the hedge Dale had neglected to trim, and the resident robin chattered impatiently from the apple tree then decided to risk it and landed quickly on the pile of excavated earth, snapped up a worm, and took off again.
Christ, I'm such a muppet. If Amanda wakes up and sees me doing this she's never going to let me hear the last of it.
Dale dug deeper, jeans damp from the morning dew on the lawn that really needed a mow. He'd get to that later, after he'd finished with his idiocy.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you," said Amanda.
"Hellfire, you scared the life out of me. Thought you were still sleeping?" Dale looked up at Amanda, shading his eyes from the early morning sun — it promised to be a glorious day in suburbia.
Amanda's shadow darkened the patch of bare earth where he had begun to dig, highlighting his idiocy. Amanda said nothing, just carried on staring down at him, as if waiting for something more than for him to simply admit he was feeling rather embarrassed.
"Okay, look, I know, all right? But I couldn't get it out of my head. I just had to do it." Dale was expecting her to burst into laughter, to mock him and never let him hear the end of doing such a daft thing, but instead she simply stood there, shifting slightly from one foot to the other.
Dale was starting to feel really uncomfortable, as if he knew the day was just going to get more weird than it already was, not to mention that Amanda was being way too intense. Normally she'd be totally making fun of him by now. Maybe she was still annoyed at him? After all, it's not every day you get woken up and are accused of not being you.
Dale got to his feet, brushing the mud from his knees, realized his jeans were soaked through so wiped his hands on them, giving it up as a lost cause.
Amanda was still just standing there, hands on hips, head tilted to the side so her long golden hair hung like a flag without a breeze, as if accusing him of something. Something really wasn't right. She must be seriously annoyed with him.
"I'm sorry okay? I just woke up and felt weird; you felt weird. Not felt, just smelled different. I'm sorry." Dale waited. "What, you not going to say anything? You not going to make fun of me for digging for time travel proof like a total idiot?"
"You mean like this?" said Amanda, pulling a strange silver tube-like device from a pocket in her thin cotton jacket.
Where did she get that from? He'd never seen it before.
"What's that?" Dale got the feeling he really didn't want to know. It was the booze, it must be, playing with his head. He needed coffee. Maybe life wouldn't seem quite so surreal once the caffeine hit.
The strange object seemed to be flashing blue on its domed top, and Amanda was holding it out like she expected him to recognize it. Dale just shook his head, trying to get some clarity.
A gentle breeze lifted Amanda's beautiful hair — how she'd got it fixed so quickly this morning was a bit of a mystery, normally she took forever to get it just right.
The breeze tickled Dale's face as it passed, carrying that all-too-familiar scent of the woman he loved more than anything in the world.
Hey, wait a minute...
"Amanda? It's you, isn't it?"
Before Dale knew what was happening Amanda was clutching him tight like she hadn't seen him for a lifetime. He hugged her back, cupping the back of her head in his hand.
Is she crying? She is, she's crying.
Dale pulled back. Her face was soaking; she looked totally distraught.
"It's you, isn't it? Not... not the you in the bedroom? Ugh, what's happening? I think my head's gone funny."
"Oh Dale, I've missed you so much. I love you."
"I love you too honey. That was weird this morning, right? Your new perfume must have thrown me, sorry about that."
"Dale, I haven't got new perfume, this is me. That isn't." Amanda pointed to the bedroom window — the curtains were still pulled tightly shut, as if she hadn't got up, had a shower, done her hair and then come outside.
"What? What's going on?" asked Dale tentatively, knowing that he really wasn't going to like the answer one little bit.
"I think we better have a little chat. But I've missed you so much."
"Haha, don't be silly, I saw you ten minutes ago. Now, if you'd just tell me how you can get showered and dressed so quickly we could probably make a million."
"Dale, that woman, that woman you woke up to, it isn't me. This is me, right here."
"Very funny. You know not to try and pull that kind of stuff on me. I know I'm digging up the lawn but it doesn't mean I'm that gullible."
"Go and take a look then, but don't wake her, don't you dare," warned Amanda, more serious than Dale had ever seen her. "This is too important to mess up... again."
"This isn't funny anymore. I'm going to make some coffee." Dale headed back to the house before turning and saying, "You know, I'd prefer it if you just made fun of me, not acted so weird and like I've done something wrong. This was just me being stupid." Dale pointed at the half-dug hole.
"Just go and look. I'll be waiting."
~~~
Dale wandered into the kitchen feeling cross. Why Amanda was being so strange he had no idea. He knew he'd acted odd himself when he first woke up, but c'mon, he was just out of sorts from feeling hungover and got a bit weirded out. But something wasn't right. Her scent was different, that was for sure, but now it was right again, so it was just one of those tricks of the mind that happens when you first wake up and are a little confused... wasn't it?
Dale flipped the kettle on and put a spoon of Nescafe in two mugs, then stood there tapping his foot, willing the water to boil so he could clear his head and hopefully just get on with the rest of the day normally — no digging like an idiot. Although, what if...? Maybe he would finish his digging after all, just to be sure.
"Ugh, you muppet Dale. As if."
Then it hit him. What was Amanda holding? What had she said? 'I wouldn't do that if I were you.' What did she mean by that? It wasn't exactly just her mocking him, was it? It was almost as if she believed he'd find something.
Dale tiptoed down the hall of the bungalow and quietly opened the door to the bedroom, shaking his head at his own actions, feeling stupid to be so sneaky when she was outside. God, what a way to start a Saturday morning.
Dale's heart skipped a beat, ice clawed up his spine and froze his brain as he heard the gentle snoring of Amanda from the bed, something she refused to admit she did, but was what Dale awoke to most mornings.
Dale glanced at the windows, still covered by the drapes. Could she have run around the house and got in through the window then closed it, got into bed and pretended to be snoring so quickly? He ran back into the kitchen, peering out through the window.
Bloody hell, she's still stood in the same spot.
In a daze, Dale poured the coffee and took two mugs outside — he'd forgotten the milk.
He handed Amanda a steaming mug; he had the distinct feeling this was not going to be a relaxing day of mowing the lawn and maybe having a beer over a long lunch.
"Thanks," said Amanda.
"Um, your welcome."
How am I not running around screaming?