Hunters: A Trilogy (109 page)

Mikey and Junior rose to their feet and came to stand behind the others. Standing and sitting in their huddled group, the boys leaning on the shoulders of Ken and Red, the others crowded up around the screen, they waited whilst Ken pushed the buttons to release George’s final briefing.

In typical fashion, they were not to be given what they expected. If it was to be some amazingly long and graphic description of how they were to attend the greatest party of their lives, a lengthy and colourful tale of how and when they should go about things, which they expected to be shown – they were to be sadly disappointed.

The only things to appear on the screen were the following words: ‘Please be in the barn at 05:30hrs tomorrow morning. Everyone must stand inside the rectangle and wear the suits, they are in the barn. Take whatever you decide is necessary. Michael is to ensure that he carries the ships. When you arrive, go to the top of the mountain. He is there, you cannot miss him. Good luck. George.’

The screen blurred for a moment and then cleared. The writing had disappeared and was replaced by the image of a stone doorway. There were no other images present, just the doorway, and they all saw the black mist seeping through the cracks around its edges.

They stared at the picture for a while, remaining in silence for there was very little left to say. After a few moments, Ken leaned forward and gently lowered the lid on the machine. His purposeful action stirred them into life. As one they scraped back their chairs, rose to their feet and started talking amongst themselves. Ken sat and listened for a while.

Jane and Tori were discussing the dilemma of clothing – should they go dressed warmly or perhaps lightly, with a warm coat stuffed into their backpacks in case it became too cold to bear. He listened as he heard the other men talking about what weapons they should take. Junior saying that he was definitely going to take two pistols, Mikey said he might take three, just to be on the safe side.

He heard Red laugh and then say something about how: ‘You’ll need more than a damned pistol for that guy, yessir, a whole heap more!’

As Ken sat listening to their banter and the inevitable laughter, which such talk always seemed to evoke, the incredible nature of their situation once more struck him with its enormity. ‘I’m responsible for these people!’ he thought.

The realisation was a terrible one, but he also knew that there was to be no other way – this was it, the final showdown. In the back of his mind, and for the first time in a long while, Ken began to wish that he was dreaming. Snapping back into the situation at hand, and with a hearty, ‘Right, come on then, let’s get to it!’ he rose to his feet and headed for the barn with the rest of his crew in tow.

Over the next few hours they decided upon what equipment it should be that would accompany them on their trip to the top. They were all now fully aware of the strong possibility that their weapons would be rendered useless by the mist – however, Ken decided that they should still be armed. Even if their weapons did become useless, at least by having them they had the option, and in all honesty, it was his previous experience that drove those feelings. Going into the unknown without any weapons and limited options did not settle easily with him, not at all.

After discussing the problem for a while, they all decided upon taking a rifle and a pistol along with four full magazines for each weapon. ‘If they don’t work, then that’s fine,’ Ken said, ‘but at least we have the choice.’

The others agreed wholeheartedly with his sentiment.

They also sorted out a medical kit, which contained some of the essential lifesaving equipment: tourniquets, shell dressings, some splints and a few other items that Ken decided upon. He wasn’t really sure about what to take – first aid is just that, a temporary measure in order to keep the casualty alive until better help was able to be reached. Ken had no idea where exactly such help may reside, especially when they were due to be half way up some barren mountain in the middle of nowhere, a mountain that most likely lay in another time and place altogether. No, taking the medical pack was in itself nothing more than a gesture – it simply made them feel better, but was unlikely to be of any use in the long term. Ken also sincerely hoped that they wouldn’t need to use it.

He told them all to dress themselves with a least three layers of clothing, the first of which should be the Shrink Down suits. Just as George had said they would be, the suits were in the barn. They had found them folded neatly on top of a small metal box that had appeared in the middle of the concrete floor.

After passing a suit to each member of his team, Ken looked down at the box. It was constructed of a dull, lead-like metal, there was a gold coloured catch that had what appeared to be some kind of glass spike through it, like a nail would be inserted though the hasp of an old door in order to stop it swinging open. The box had an inscription engraved onto its lid.

‘Michael Jack Wildeman’.

That’s all it said, but they knew the true meaning of those words, guessing that what the message really meant was: ‘Hands off, this box is for Michael!’

Ken looked at the young man and then motioned towards the box with his head. ‘Mikey, this one’s for you, fella,’ he said.

Michael nodded and leaned down to retrieve the box. He stood there in some bemusement, almost forlornly, holding the box carefully in his hands, appearing not to know quite what to say.

Ken gave him a leg-up. ‘I guess that’s the thing your Dad used, the black ship – I have the other half in my room,’ he said, quietly. ‘I’ll give it to you in a minute. In the meantime I would suggest that it should be only you who touches it.’ He let his gaze swivel across to where Tori stood.

She nodded, saying: ‘Yes, it can only be Michael who touches the ships, because, apart from the obvious dangers, we are not quite sure how they will react when placed in close proximity to each other. It has been a very long time since they have been conjoined, and even then, the records are very sketchy, to say the least!’ She put her arm around Mikey’s shoulders and the display of her affection for him was plain to see.

Looking him in the eye, Tori said, ‘Do not be afraid, Mikey. There is no harm awaiting you within the body of those ships, none whatsoever – they would not be able to harm you if they tried, you are far too powerful for that!’ She smiled at him, saying: ‘No, we should finish here, go across to the house and let Kenneth bring us the other twin, and then we shall see.’

Her gentle tone seemed to brush Michael’s apprehensions aside. He grinned, placed the box back onto the floor and without another word, continued to help the others with their equipment.

In short order, the team had all they needed. Everything was packed neatly into three back-packs, ammunition and water was stuffed into several chest-rigs, the handy rigs would be slung across the front of the body in such a manner that their carriage did not impede the wearer, whilst at the same time allowing unfettered access to all they contained. Each of the Hunters now had in their possession an AK-47 with two magazines clipped to it, and also a sturdy belt, which carried their pistols and spare magazines. The remainder of the ammunition would be in the chest-rigs carried by Ken and Junior.

It was late afternoon before they picked up all their belongings and made their way over to the house. Ken ordered them to place all of the equipment in a line along the wall of the house. In silence they obeyed, standing and waiting for him to speak once they had stacked their particular belongings on the floor of the veranda.

‘Right,’ he said, ‘all we need to do now is get some water and a few rations into our packs, and then we’ll see how much room is left for a bit of extra clothing – does anybody have some warm hats? They’ll come in handy if you do.’

With the women telling him to leave it to them, Ken then suggested they get some hot food before finalising their packing. Their preparations ended with him going through everyone’s kit; he checked all the weapons, went over the contents of the med kit and then finally gave the go ahead for the others to pack the few items of warm clothing they had managed to round up.

Each of them had a decent jacket of sorts and, in honour of their promise, Jane and Tori had also found an array of warm headwear – Ken wasn’t too sure about the bright yellow one that Red had taken a fancy to. However, the ridiculous expression that appeared on the huge man’s face, when he demonstrated how well the hat fitted, was not something that filled Ken with the desire to ban the wearing of the floppy woollen hat with its long, braided tassels. He supposed that when it came right down to things, the design of some crazy headwear would be the least of his problems.

Turning away, and with a wry grin upon his face, Ken then produced the three ‘space blankets’ he’d been carrying around in his gear for about the last twenty years, or so. The blankets were a survival aid and consisted of some shiny metallic, paper-like, material. They were vacuum packed and were no larger than a slim packet of cigarettes. Once opened, however, they were able to be folded out and would provide a decent thermal covering for at least two people.

Sliding them into the side pouches of the med pack, he said, ‘They won’t be as good as a sleeping bag, but we don’t have any of them, and anyway, I don’t even know if we will have time to sleep – but at least we have the option. If a couple of you budge up underneath them, they’ll help keep the heat in.’ He zipped the pouch up and rose to his feet, saying: ‘Okay, what rations have we available?’

Ken had asked the boys to dig some food out earlier, and in reply to his question, they pointed at the table where they had laid out a variety of tinned goods, chocolate bars and other foodstuffs. There was also a small pile of plastic plates and six plastic beakers, which had an array of knives, forks and spoons stuffed into them. Knowing that they only had one last backpack left, in which to place such items, and wishing he’d asked George to organise some military rations, Ken told them to go ahead and pack enough for at least three days of one decent meal a day. Upon hearing that, Red, the giant of a man who possessed an equally large appetite, looked at him in dismay.

Ken laughed, saying: ‘I’m sorry, mate, but we’re going to have to rough it for a bit, if we were to take all the food you needed, then we’d most likely have to get about six fully-laden donkeys!’ Red looked about ready to wail. Ken, doing his best to allay the big man’s vision of impending starvation, winked at him and said, ‘Don’t worry, Red – we’ll probably only be up there for one night, and if not then maybe we can shoot a mountain goat, or something.’

The imaginary smell of cooking meat only seemed to make matters worse.

Red rose to his feet with a scowl, and whilst stomping off towards the kitchen, started muttering: ‘Well, I’ll be getting myself a whole heap of food right now – yeah, I’m gonna eat for the whole damned night long!’

His demeanour was very entertaining, and with a great deal of laughter the remainder of the gang followed him into the kitchen. In all honesty, the thought of being short of food in the near future had somehow fired up their own appetites. In almost no time at all, they had begun to prepare a feast that would have been more than fit for a king, several kings, in fact.

Ken stayed on the veranda and made one last check of all the equipment. Finally, when he was at last satisfied they had gathered everything they needed, everything they were reasonably able to carry, he sat in Mike’s rocking chair and lit a cigarette. Brushing away the guilt about smoking, he sat and watched as the sunset began a lazy appearance in the evening sky. The time had arrived and he knew that he and the others were as ready as it was possible to be.

For the first time in his life, Ken Robinson was about to embark upon a mission where he had absolutely no idea of how things would work out, in fact he had no idea how they would even start. Sure, he was well-versed in the old ‘best laid plans of mice and men’ cliché, but even so, ‘Hell, I don’t even know where we’re going, or how we’re gonna get there,’ he thought. ‘What’s the score with the mist, who is this guy and how many men does he have? I mean…’ The sound of a bottle, thunking softly as Jane placed it onto the table next to him, thankfully ended the sudden rush of dark thoughts that had decided to make their unwelcome appearance in Ken’s mind. He looked up with relief, smiled at her and reached across for the bottle of cold beer.

‘Thanks, it’s just what I need,’ he said, gratefully. ‘Things were starting to gang up on me then! All this stuff, all the not knowing, it’s doing my head in!’ He shrugged and took a swig of the beer. ‘What a bloody story – I just wish I knew the ending!’ he said, looking across at Jane.

Ken shook his head in despair and proceeded to chug back the rest of his beer. Finishing the drink, and after belching quietly, he looked across and said, ‘Hmm, that’s a lot better, I think I’ll have a few tonight, it might be a while before the next one, huh?’

Jane nodded and said, ‘I know what you mean about this whole thing, but it’s weird because I’m not scared – are you?’

Ken looked at her and shook his head. ‘No,’ he said. ‘It’s more a case of being frustrated, I suppose. I just wish I had some idea of what it is we’re supposed to be doing, I…’ He stopped talking and shook his head in anger.

Taking a deep breath, he said, ‘Have you heard me? Maybe I should just dry my eyes and stop being a princess, perhaps I should just get on with it, eh?’

Jane laughed loudly and leaned across to kiss him on the lips.

He hugged her tightly, whispering into her ear as he held her close: ‘Don’t worry – it’s all going to be fine. We haven’t come this far for nothing – that’s the one thing I’m absolutely sure about!’

She nodded and they stayed in their embrace for a few more moments. Eventually, Jane broke away, kissed his forehead once and then turned to go and fetch some of the required refreshments.

Just before they decided to eat, the whole group gathered around Ken as he sat there, quietly imbibing of the icy beer and reminiscing. He looked up and watched as Michael placed his metal box onto the wooden table. The atmosphere fell silent as they all felt the heavy sense of anticipation surround them.