Authors: Matt Drabble
M.S Drabble
Table of Contents
CHAPTER VII
not so happy trails
101
CHAPTER VIV
pride and falls
122
CHAPTER X
controls are spiralling
140
BEGINNINGS
“I
am the Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the ending,
Saith the Lord, which is, and which was,
and which is to come, the Almighty
”
.
Revelation 1:8
The sound of foot
steps echo in the dark herald
a purposeful stride, the man is around 6ft tall, his stocky frame is encased in a padded waterproof coat,
his
hood pulled hea
vily forward obscuring a
dishelved
face. His muddy boots are stomping and splashing along
Westgate Street
hidden in the imposing black shadows of the Millennium Stadium, the man repeatedly turns, whipping his head nervously, glancing around on all sides.
Gerald Wilk
es was
cold,
wet and as worried
as any one man can possibly become without dro
pping dead of an embolism. He was
already
running
dangerously
late, a fact confirmed by every glance at his illuminated
watch;
the soft green glow from the watches light illustrates the stress and worry on his heavily
stubbled
face.
The small
envelope
secr
eted inside his large jacket
weighed next to nothing,
but it carried its own force of gravity slowing his once determined walk to a crawl.
Gerald headed along the dark and des
erted street, his heart pounded and his chest w
h
eezed,
his whole body was starting to emit a rank smell of
sweating
desperation despite the cold night air. The small brown
envelope
was burning a hole through his clothes and into his soul causing a cloak of despair to begin eating him alive.
Gerald wa
s scared, Gerald was miserable and
Gerald felt more ali
ve than he had ever felt before. His body was now moving involuntarily forward, his pace gathered momentum as his final destination grew inevitably closer. Up ahead he could see the
vague
outlines of shapes moving in the murk under the railway bridge. Several hundred yards to the left the city stood in
its
urban surroundings,
civilisation
held aloft beacons of technology and advancement, but Gerald knew that
where he was heading
three hundred yards
may as well have been three thousand years. As he neared the meeting point under the railway bridge
,
he could see the figures more clearly, a non descript dark blue Ford Fiesta was pulled up onto the pavement, at this hour and in the this area of the c
ity
the chances of interruption, or,
as the thought flashed through his mind
worryingly
, help,
were pretty much nil.