Into Thin Air: Omnibus Edition Parts 1 - 3 Read online

  Copyright © 2017 by Mark R Silgram

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  Into Thin Air: Part 1: The Lost Patrol

  Chapter 1

  5th December 1945

  Flight leader Lieutenant Charles Carroll Taylor struggled to control his TBM Avenger torpedo bomber. All his instruments were going ape-shit and the continuing onslaught of wind and rain made his visibility piss-poor at best. He knew they’d have to ditch into the sea soon for they were also running out of fuel. He had but seconds to make a decision, and with the sun dropping fast he radioed to his squadron.

  Then they were hit with a light so bright that at first Taylor thought an atom bomb had exploded. When his vision cleared he saw that he was dangling from a parachute that had got caught in a tree. He unsheathed his knife and proceeded to cut himself free until he saw what was directly below him: a Tyrannosaurus Rex. It hadn’t noticed him yet but his feet were almost brushing its head.

  Until now he had only read about them in books and he’d never imagined he’d come face to face with one. The very thought made him crap himself. For a start its teeth were at least six inches long. Those at the front were D-shaped, made to grip prey, while the back teeth did the business of slicing and dicing meat. Its ears were similar to those of crocodiles, meaning it had good hearing, which wasn’t good news for Taylor considering he was right above it and sweating big time.

  Had he gone back in time or was he just hallucinating? Either way, he would soon find out, because the parachute straps had started to fray. Any minute he’d be the T-Rex’s lunch. He had to do something, but what?

  That’s when he heard someone shout, “Hey, big fella, over here!” Whoever it was started to wave a burning branch and the T-Rex responded with a snort and swung round, getting ready to charge after this newcomer.

  Without thinking about what he was doing, Taylor cut the straps of the parachute, dived onto the creature’s head and started hacking and slashing with his knife. The T-Rex didn’t like that one bit and started shaking its head violently, throwing in the odd snap and roar every now and then.

  Just when he thought the day couldn’t get any weirder, Taylor saw a grenade being launched by his rescuer’s buddy, who wanted to join the dinosaur-killing frenzy, and a second later the creature exploded, sending him cartwheeling through the air before he landed in some conifers.

  Picking bits of T-Rex flesh from his face, Taylor staggered to his feet, only to be met with the barrel of a gun. The last thing he heard was, “You’re coming with us,” then he was hit over the head with the gun and he blacked out.

  The first thing he heard was music then a football hit him on the head. “Sorry, man,” said a black guy, running over. “Do you want a game of five-a-side? It’ll take the edge off almost getting eaten by a T-Rex.”

  Looking around, Taylor saw he was on some sort of beach. A smell of roasting meat came from a barbeque that was well underway. There were about forty people there, a mixture of men and women. Most of the men were bare-chested, which was understandable considering the weather was tropical. The men were either sitting by the campfire drinking or betting on a boxing match that had just got going, while the women were dancing to music, chatting or hanging out clothes to dry. They were all dressed in military uniforms that were torn or vandalised in some way to make them unique or give them a sense of identity. But it was the equipment and military hardware that most caught Taylor’s attention; far more advanced than anything the US military currently had, so did this mean these people were from the future?

  “Welcome to Camp Lucy,” said one of the women, extending her hand. She had a body built for action and her blonde hair was done up in a delicately swirled bun. “You were lucky we found you when we did. My name is Lieutenant Charlotte Anne Ripley of the Forty-three Commando Fleet Protection Group Royal Marines.”

  “Pleased to meet you, Lieutenant Ripley. My name is Charles Carroll Taylor and I’m also a lieutenant, of the US Navy,” Taylor said, shaking her hand. “What year is this?”

  “Well, considering there’s a fucking massive T-Rex roaming the jungle, I’d say this is the Cretaceous Period, wouldn’t you?”

  “O-k-a-y, let me rephrase the question, Lieutenant,” Taylor said, deadly serious. “What year are you from?”

  “Twenty fourteen. We were transporting Trident nuclear warheads from the Atomic Weapons Establishment in Berkshire, England, to the Royal Naval Armaments Depot RNAD Coulport in Argyll, Scotland, when we were hit with a bright light and a bang. Then we found ourselves here. At first we all assumed that one of the nukes had gone off and we’d died, but get this: all the nukes are still intact.”

  “That doesn’t mean we’re not dead, Lieutenant. How else do you explain all this?” Taylor said. Before Charlotte Ripley could reply the black guy came running over.

  “I’m sorry about knocking you out last night, man, but we had to get going before any of the T-Rex’s buddies showed up. I’m Lieutenant Milton Alphonsoe and I’m a Jamaican born and bred.” Milton wore a swanky pair of glasses and he had buck teeth which were at odds with the rest of his body: his muscles rippled underneath his uniform and his head was fully shaven right down to the wood.

  “Just ignore him, Lieutenant Taylor,” Charlotte said with a roll of her eyes. “He’s really from Essex and doesn’t know his Reggae Reggae sauce from his HP sauce. Isn’t that right, pal?” Charlotte said, slapping Milton on his back.

  “Wait a minute. Lieutenant Taylor? You’re not Charles Carroll Taylor by any chance, are you, man?”

  “Yes. Why?”

  “You went missing in the Bermuda Triangle on the fifth of December nineteen forty-five. Flight fifteen. You’re famous, man.”

  “Missing? What do you mean missing?” Taylor said, running his hand through his hair before dropping to his knees. He felt like he was going to pass out and the beach had started to spin. He felt his heart thump in his head and his mind raced. Then he remembered his airmen. “I need to speak to whoever’s in charge. I think I can get us home.”

  Chapter 2

  Present Day

  Seattle, Washington

  One Direction was playing on the radio as toast popped up. No sooner was it buttered than Elizabeth Taylor stuffed it into the mouth of her son, Elliott, just as the school bus beeped. He was still chomping away at it when she pushed him out of the door. That only left Charlie, her eldest. She could already smell cannabis as she knocked on her bedroom door.

  “Are you going to school today or I am going to have to drag you there?” Elizabeth said, bursting in wrenching both the spliff and the cell phone from her hands. “And why can’t you be like a normal teenager and do this behind my back?”

  “What… it’s legal, isn’t it?” Charlie said, bleary-eyed.

  “Only in some states, so it’s a good job we live in Seattle then, isn’t it?” Elizabeth said with a wink, taking a puff. “Now come on, get your butt into gear. You’re going to be late.”

  “Whoopee. Another lesson about dinosaurs. G-r-e-a-t,” Charlie said with all the enthusiasm of someone on death row.

  “It’s important.”

  “It’s lame as shit.”

  “And don’t swear.”

  “Something else I shouldn’t do behind your fucking back then.”

  There came at knock that made them bo
th jump.

  “Put that out and keep the door closed,” Elizabeth said, handing the joint back to Charlie.

  Looking in the mirror she made sure her dark brown frizzy hair was immaculate, and then made her way downstairs. Looking through the spyhole, she saw a man dressed in a Royal Navy uniform.

  “Can I help you?” Elizabeth said, opening the door slightly but keeping the chain on.

  “It’s about your grandfather, Charles Taylor. Can I come in, ma’am?”

  The man spoke with a heavy London accent. He was young, maybe in his mid-twenties, with a mixed-raced complexion, and he obviously worked out a lot because she could see his biceps rippling underneath his uniform. He wore a pair of Ray-Ban sunglasses.

  “No. Anything you’ve got to say you can tell me now. Otherwise fuck off and leave me alone.”

  “Charming.” The marine smiled. “Your grandfather went missing, didn’t he?”

  “Yeah. So?”

  “Well, I know where he is.”

  “You’d better come in. Leave your boots by the door if you don’t mind.”

  Elizabeth poured coffee as the man took out a Marlboro cigarette, lit it, inhaled deeply and blew the smoke out with a satisfied sigh.

  “You know, I haven’t had one of these in months.”

  “Why did you start again?”

  “I didn’t quit in the first place.” The marine laughed. “But cigarettes were hard to come by where I was living a few days ago.”

  “And where was that?”

  “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” The marine must have smelt the weed as he said, “Don’t worry, I used to smoke shit-loads of the stuff myself.”

  “I don’t mean to be rude, but what the fuck is all this about?” Elizabeth said, passing him an ashtray before rifling through her jeans pockets for her own cigarettes and lighter.

  “What if I told you I’m from another world?”

  “You mean like Mars? Because you’re not making any sense so far.” She laughed, lighting a cigarette with a shaking hand.

  “I mean from another Earth.”

  “What’s this got to do with my grandfather?” Elizabeth said, blowing out smoke.

  “So we don’t get confused here, let’s call my Earth A and yours B. On Earth A, Charles Taylor and his squadron went missing in nineteen forty-five and they were never found again. But on Earth B he had a premonition that really spooked him the night before so he never went on that fateful flight and someone else took his place. He then met your grandmother and settled down and had a couple of kids and the rest is history.”

  “But you said that you’ve found my grandfather.”

  “When I said that I’ve found your grandfather I meant the one from my Earth. Yours went missing a few days ago, didn’t he?”

  “Yes, but how did you...”

  But Elizabeth never finished her sentence, for the sedative she had slipped into the marine’s coffee started to take effect. His cup slipped from his hand and shattered on the Laura Ashley pine floor.

  Ever since her grandfather told her that he’d stolen a machine from the US Military that could open tears in time and space and they were now after him, she’d thought he was crazy or having one his paranoid “episodes”. But then he went missing and she started to get funny phone calls and text messages. Now, seeing the marine passed out on her sofa, maybe her grandfather wasn’t as crazy as she first thought.

  She rummaged through the marine’s pockets and found the lighter. On closer inspection it was a rather flash Zippo with an engraving that read: Happy 21st Milton, love Charlotte XXX.

  Chapter 3

  As Taylor was led to what he assumed was the command tent it became obvious to him that Charlotte and Milton and the other marines had been here for a couple of months. They had a hospital and a generator producing electricity and even a cemetery; although crude by modern standards it meant they had given up on being rescued. He also saw military trucks, and sitting right in the middle of the camp was a bomb. He couldn’t figure out at first why such a horrifying weapon was on show for the world and his wife to see and not being guarded, but that was the point: the more eyes on it, the better.

  Hand-drawn maps were spread out on the table in the command tent as Taylor, Charlotte and Milton argued over what to do about his missing airmen and getting home. It turned out that Charlotte had been elected leader after they had arrived the first night and members of her team, including her father, were wiped out. Milton was now her second in command. On the second day more of her people were killed by a Plesiosaur during a fishing expedition using a makeshift boat. Gradually their numbers started to dwindle, to what Taylor saw now: a bunch of scared people trying to make the best of a bad situation.

  “But when we find my plane,” Taylor continued, “it should still have the co-ordinates of my last position, which might lead to… what did you call it before, Milton?” he said, clicking his fingers.

  “Worm hole?”

  ”Yes, that’s it, a worm hole. We load up as many people as we can and fly through this worm hole.”

  “No, absolutely not. I’m not prepared to lose anyone else. Milton, shut the fuck up. You’ve been watching too much Star Trek,” Charlotte said, pacing up and down.

  “And what about my missing airmen, Lieutenant? I’m not going to abandon them,” Taylor said, taking a sip of his brew. “And where did you get tea?”

  “We’re not the first to have been stranded here,” Milton said, looking at Charlotte. “A few weeks ago we came across an airbus loaded with food and clothes and other bits and pieces, but the people inside were nothing more than skeletons and looked like they’d been there for centuries.”

  “Dinosaurs aren’t the only strange things we’ve encountered since we’ve been here,” Charlotte said with sadness in her eyes. “It appears time runs at different speeds depending on where you go in this world. So your airmen, Lieutenant Taylor, might already be long dead.” There was something else in Charlotte’s voice that indicated to Taylor that something awful had happened to her, something beyond terrifying, but he decided not to force the issue.

  “Then I’ll find them on my own.”

  “No, it’s not safe. We all stick together,” Charlotte said.

  Charles was about to argue with her but a marine burst into the tent.

  “Lieutenant Ripley, our friend is back.”

  “Thanks, Lieutenant. I’ll be right out,” Charlotte said, tossing Charles Taylor a rifle. “It looks like your rescue mission will have to wait. Tool up.”

  They stepped outside the tent to be met with absolute chaos. People were running around, screaming in panic or firing guns into the sky. At first Taylor couldn’t see why, and then he saw it, swooping down before flying away with a man or a woman kicking and screaming inside a beak as long as a bus and its wings were at least eight feet.

  “Is that a Pterodactyl?”

  “No and yes. The actual word Pterodactyl encompasses a large range of flying dinosaurs that are part of the Pterosaur group. This is a Pterodactyl and she’s been plaguing us for some time,” Charlotte said, grabbing a gun. “And it looks like she’s brought reinforcements.”

  Sure enough Taylor could see a shit-load flying over the sea, heading for their beach.

  “What do we do?”

  “I think I know why they’re attacking our camp,” Charlotte said with a coy smile.

  A punch from Taylor sent the swaggering bastard flying backwards into a crate of beer. But he was young and confident and managed to gain the upper hand and soon had a knife to Charles Taylor’s throat.

  “Troy, stand down. That’s an order,” Charlotte said. “We need the egg.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about, ma’am.”

  “Charles Taylor, allow me to introduce Troy of the Maritime Sniper Team. Aged just twenty-one, he is an excellent sniper and his hobbies include kick-boxing, women, drink and drugs. Isn’t that right, Lieutenant?”

  “Yes, ma
’am,” Troy said with a smirk.

  “It was Troy who set up the gambling, and he also runs a brothel on the camp. He thrives on chaos. Isn’t that right, Lieutenant?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “What’s the going rate for a fuck these days?”

  “One dinosaur egg.”

  “So why have you not disciplined him, or even better locked the bastard up?” Taylor said, wanting to knock him out but keeping his cool. He wondered why such a young man wore a pirate-like eye patch. Was it was for show or had he lost an eye?

  “She knows that without me they wouldn’t last a week. I’m the sheriff and I do her dirty work. ”

  “I need the egg, Troy. It’s the only thing that will stop them ripping this place apart, and if that happens you can kiss goodbye to your pussy.”

  Troy led them to a tent that was guarded by henchmen seemingly unaware of the carnage that was unfolding around them.

  “A few days ago one of the lads gave me this as a payment,” he said, presenting a Pterodactyl egg.

  “I’ll take that.” Charles Taylor gave the little shit a boot to groan. “And that’s for all the poor women you’ve exploited.”

  “You shouldn’t have done that,” Troy said, trying to sound hard but the words came out in a squeak. “You have no idea who you’re messing with.”

  “You’re no longer the sheriff.”

  “Oh and why’s that?” Troy said, nursing his sore balls.

  “Whatever hold you have over Charlotte you don’t have over me. I’m the camp’s new sheriff and I’m banishing you from this camp for as long as I see fit. Now get out of here and don’t ever come back.”

  “This isn’t over,” Troy said, limping away. “And your new boyfriend better watch his back, Charlotte, because when I’ve finished with you, I’ll be gunning for him in a big way.”

  While racing back to the beach they bumped into Milton. His face and hands were covered in blood.