ON OUR BLOG TODAY WE FEATURE BRILLIANT GUEST AUTHOR, CAROL KERRY-GREEN, WHO IS SHARING CHAPTER THREE OF HER PARANORMAL NOVEL, 'FLIGHT OF THE FALCON'

CHAPTER THREE

Hugh

Imogen drew breath as though she were going to ask him a question, when the fire alarms went off. Even though they were sitting outside, the staff told them they still had to evacuate the area. Hugh could barely hear himself think, and looked around him as people began muttering and leaving the area, though they only went as far as the street.

Hugh noticed that there was a plume of smoke emerging from the kitchen to the right of the building, and wasn’t surprised when the door opened and several members of staff began coming out, several of them coughing because of the smoke.

“Please, everyone!” The waiter who had served them, and some of the other staff were asking the small crowd of onlookers to move further away so the fire engines could get in when they arrived. Already Hugh could hear their distinctive wail getting closer.

Hugh grabbed Imogen’s hand and began moving with her further away from the courtyard. There were more people out in the street now, as residents began swelling the ranks of the patrons from the courtyard. He found himself being pushed and shoved and he lost his hold on Imogen’s hand.

“Not you, Mr McHughes,” the voice was barely recognisable, but Hugh swore it was Swales. “You’re coming with me.”

Hugh went to turn around, then he felt something in his back. The man behind him was holding a gun to him. He went very still, and allowed himself to be manoeuvered away from the crowd towards the main road.

“Don’t struggle. I’d hate to have to use this weapon in this crowd.” Hugh remained silent, cursing all the way as he was thrust in front of the other man.

He followed the direction and found himself out on to Museum Street, where he was pushed towards a Land Rover which was parked across the entrance to the Museum Gardens. No-one was paying them any attention, too busy gawking at the fire engines as they pulled onto Lendal to the Judges Lodgings. Feeling more hands on him, he realised the man with the gun was not on his own.

“Give us your phone.” A gruff voice insisted.

Hugh tried to resist as one of them reached into his pocket and drew out his phone, throwing it as far as he could into the gardens, thankfully missing any pedestrian.

“Get in the car.”

He tried to fight against the other men, but he was outnumbered. Suddenly he felt a blow to his temple and he pulled back from the pain. Stumbling from the dizziness, he was shoved into the back of the Land Rover. Collapsing on the back seat, he tried to stay awake, but he must have been hit harder than he thought and he slipped into unconsciousness.

Hugh came back to consciousness slowly, his head ached and he could feel blood trickling down his cheek. He was still in the back of the Land Rover, though he couldn’t see out of the windows, as he had been shoved unceremoniously onto the floor and a jacket or something thrown over him. He tried not to stir, not wanting to let his captors know he was awake. He had no idea how long he’d been out.

The vehicle slowed and the front driver’s window lowered, there was quiet conversation and then they were moving again.

The back door opened, and he was roughly grabbed by one of Swales’s goons.

“Get out,” he growled at him.

Hugh slowly backed out of the Land Rover, his head throbbing as he felt nauseous. Without warning, he turned round and was sick at the man’s feet. The heavyset man wearing a red parka grumbled as he jumped back from Hugh.

“Bring him,” the other goon, who had a nasty looking scar across his face, growled. The third man had already disappeared.

Hugh felt himself being pulled along between red parka and Scarface. He dragged his feet as much as he could, but he couldn’t resist being pulled in to the house they’d stopped at.

Swales was waiting for him in the hallway.

“Parkin,” he address Scarface. “Put him in the attic room.”

Parkin nodded and dragged Hugh off. He tried to protest, but his head was still groggy from having been knocked out and he didn’t have his full strength.

He was roughly shoved into an attic room, which had a bed, a dressing table and a couple of doors off. He turned round to hear Parkin locking the door behind him.

He collapsed onto the bed, groaning. His head was aching and he still felt a little nauseous. He got off the bed and opened one of the doors, a cupboard, the other door led to a small bathroom.

After being sick in the toilet, he flushed and looked around. There was a small glass standing by the sink, he filled it with water, and rinsed his mouth out. Refilling the glass, he returned to the main room to have a look around. He looked out the window, but it didn’t give him any real clues as to where he was. With nothing else going on he laid back on the bed. He wished he had some pain killers for his head. Closing his eyes he laid back and rested. There was nothing he could do until someone came to his room.

Falcon

Falcon felt as though he was floating. He was being carried down a white corridor, his mind roaming free. He watched as the fluorescent lights went by one by one overhead. Falcon tried to count them, but kept losing where he was up to.

He was dressed in his pyjamas, and the orderly carrying him was being as gentle as he could, but he was still working for the Facility. Falcon’s mind felt as though it was detached from the rest of him, just floating along.

Minutes later he was deposited fairly gently on his bed in the dorm room. His head was still spinning and it took a few moments before he felt the room stop whirling around him.

He knew it was the drugs, and he hated it. Hated every time they gave him a new experimental drug and put him through the tests. His body felt as though he’d been pummeled through the mattress and he slowly tried to sit up.

He felt the bed give and looked over at his little brother Robin. The little boy was missing his legs below his knees. He’d been like that for a few years now. Ever since he’d gotten sepsis in his lower legs after a procedure gone wrong in another experiment.

Robin bounced on his knees on the bed. He was mostly confined to his wheelchair, but had learned to use his knees to move around independently. His little hand felt Falcon’s forehead as he stroked through his hair. Falcon knew he was copying what he himself did when any of them were ill.

Ollie sat on the bed next to him, he was next in age to Falcon and helped him look out for the others. He considered them all his brothers and sisters, but none of them were actually related.

Falcon drew in a deep breath and sat up suddenly. He couldn’t remember much of the dream, only that it had been about their time in the Facility. He tried not to let the memories and nightmares get to him as much now that he was older. Just forever glad that they’d escaped from that hell. All with the help of Francis Byrde. Their saviour had come in and adopted all eight children at the Facility, from Falcon who’d been seventeen at the time down to Robin who was only eight years old.

He felt his heart beating quickly and he gulped in a few more deep breaths. To try and divert his thoughts, he brought up the memory of Hugh McHughes. The man fascinated him. He hadn’t met a man like him before who attracted him as much as Hugh did.

After getting up and getting himself a drink of water, he settled back in bed and was finally able to fall back to sleep without any more dreams.

The early morning found him in that in-between place, not awake and not asleep. He sent his mind and senses out until he felt a connection.

He was soaring high over the city. The whole of York was laid out below him and he could follow the winding River Ouse as it ran through the city. His eyes were now a lot sharper than his human ones, as he watched the world below through the eyes of a lark.

He loved having the freedom to connect with the birds. To follow where they flew and see out of their eyes. He was able to exert a little control over where the bird went and he directed the lark to swoop down towards the courtyard where he now lived. It was early morning, but already people were up and out, going about their early morning activities. Some going to jobs, others to school. A few, the less fortunate, were rolling up the sleeping bags they’d spent the night in, if they were lucky enough to have one, and putting it away. Ready for another day of the streets of the tourist city.

He directed the swallow to dip and dive around the cathedral, enjoying the feeling that was transported to him as he lay in his bed. Deans Park and the roads around it were his playground and he spent the next half hour or so just enjoying his connection to the wild.

Falcon awoke properly when his mobile phone began ringing. He grinned, that was Francis’s ring tone. Reaching over to his bedside table he picked it up.

“Hey, Dad. You home?”

“Got in late last night.” Francis Byrde replied. “Wondered if you wanted to get coffee later today.”

“Sounds great. Meet you at the cafe about 11 am?”

After a few more pleasantries, Falcon ended the call and reluctantly got out of bed. He wanted to see if he could find his copy of The Eagle of the Ninth today. He’d promised Hugh he’d look it out. It would also give him an excuse to see him again. Maybe even invite him out for dinner?

A couple of hours later, he walked through the book shop on his way out to the cafe.

“How’s it going, Abbie,” he asked his niece who was sitting at the computer sending out invoices.

“Great, Uncle Fal. Been a bit quiet today, so am catching up on some admin.”

“Good girl. I’m off to meet your Grandad.”

Abbie whooped. “He’s back?”

“Got in last night. I’ll make sure he comes to visit you before he leaves.”

Abbie grinned at her. Francis made a great grandfather and the triplets loved him. He said his goodbyes and headed over to the cafe.

Francis was there being crushed in a hug by Ella. She was grinning from ear to ear and only broke off when Falcon walked in.

“Hey there, Uncle Fal. Usual?”

He nodded and she went off to make their drinks. Francis led the way to one of the comfy sofas in the coffee shop.

When their drinks came, they spent a little time catching up about Chyna and how she was settling in at university in Jamaica. He thought she’d be very happy there and Fal hoped so, his youngest sister had always wanted to go to university in the Caribbean.

“So,” Francis paused sipping his drink. “How are things going with Father John McKenzie?”

“Hmm,” Fal murmured. “I told you about the research I’ve been doing? I’m not convinced it’s the actual Ninth Legion we’re talking about, and nor does McKenzie. But there is something going on, that’s for sure. Those tunnels, apart from the one we entered being lethal.” He grimaced remembering his ankle. “They’re strange. They’re definitely old, though I’m not sure just how old. Some parts of it were really rough, others reminded me more of Flemish brick work. As though they’d been updated at some time.”

“A conundrum.” Francis said. “When do you intend to go again?”

Before he had a chance to answer him, there was a commotion at the door. A young blonde haired woman dressed in a red crumpled trouser suit was trying to get to the front of the queue.

“Excuse me, sorry.” She said as she made her way to where Ella was serving.

“I’m so sorry,” she said. “Have you seen Hugh today?”

Falcon could see Ella’s frown as she shook her head. He stood up and walked up to the young woman.

“Hugh McHughes?” he asked.

She turned around towards him. He took in her disheveled state and wondered what had happened. He ordered her a chamomile tea from Ella and took her over to where Francis was sitting.

“Here,” he helped her sit down. “I haven’t seen him since yesterday. Are you the friend he was meeting for dinner?”

She nodded and held out her hand. “Imogen Lovell.”

He introduced her to Francis and sat down himself.

“Can you tell us what happened?

“We went for a drink and dinner at the Judges Lodging, after he met me from my train.”

Falcon nodded at her to continue on. Slowly, Imogen told them about the fire alarm and about losing track of Hugh in the melee. Then she told them how she’d not being able to find him afterwards. He wasn’t at the apartment he was staying in and there had been no sign of him since then.

“I spent the night at the flat, but didn’t get much sleep. I was hoping he’d turn up there. I’ve no idea what to do now. I went back to the restaurant this morning and no-one even remembered him being there. It was chaos after the fire alarm went off, but no-one recognised my description of the waiter who served us.”

“Hey, hey, it’ll be okay.” Falcon comforted her.

“Something is obviously happening.” Francis said. “What can you tell us about him.”

Imogen took in a deep breath and looked at the person they’d been sent to spy on. Then, taking a chance, she told them everything she knew and what Hugh was doing there.

https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0DHL4DMBR

COMING SOON: On Friday, 13th June, our fabulous team member, Lorraine Carey, is sharing a chapter from her novel, 'The Good Teacher' - first book of the 'Women of Willow Wood' trilogy.