 
THE TREMBLING

By

Wayne Roux

THE TREMBLING

Published by Wayne Roux at Smashwords

Copyright 2014 Wayne Roux

Special Acknowledgements:

Editing and Proofreading by Joni Proper and Craig Banks

Cover design by Cover Grafix

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

Thank you for purchasing and downloading this eBook. This eBook remains the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be reproduced, copied and distributed for commercial or non-commercial purposes without his express permission. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to purchase or download their own copy at Smashwords.com, where they can also discover other works by this author.

Thank you for your support of Indie authors. Reviews are much appreciated.

This book is dedicated to Craig Banks and Fiona Deane – both fans. One a nutcase artist with a wild imagination, who kept me laughing and writing, and the other a persistent pain who made sure I finished what I started – no matter what! I sincerely thank you both. Without you, this story would not have been completed.

"The life I touch for good or ill, will touch another life, and that in turn will touch another, until who knows where the trembling stops or in what far place my touch will be felt."

\- Frederick Buechner

### Chapter 1

The driver of the metallic silver Mazda 3 was keeping his eye on the heat gauge, which was neatly set in the dashboard behind the steering wheel. The tiny needle had crept above the halfway mark and was now hovering below the red section, threatening to set off all the alarm bells in the world if they eventually met each other. The sudden sound of a car horn blaring angrily from behind made the driver look up and at the car behind him. He could barely make out the shape of the driver in the vehicle through the reflection of burnt orange sky on the other car's windscreen, but raised his hand apologetically anyway. He shifted the Car into gear and drove forward, covering the few short metres between himself and the car in front, before the line of traffic came to a standstill again. It had been this way for at least twenty minutes; bumper to bumper congestion on the N2 highway towards the seaside village of Gonubie, twenty kilometres out of East London on the eastern coastline of South Africa. It was almost six pm, mid-October, and the sun would set completely in the next thirty minutes or so.

Further blasting of the horn from the car behind them had Blake Turner clenching his hands on the steering wheel.

What's this guy's problem, he thought? Hooting wasn't going to speed up the traffic. He shook his head resignedly, before turning to the passenger seated next to him.

"You okay, Mom?"

The older woman, in her mid-forties, smiled back at him and nodded. She looked tired, and Blake was concerned - more so than he dared say out loud. They were returning from a doctor's appointment in town. Blake had left work early in order to fetch his mother from their townhouse in Gonubie, and drive her through to the doctor's offices at the Medicross centre in Berea. She had been complaining of stomach pains for the past few days already, and it had taken all of Blake's persuasion skills to convince her to make the appointment. The doctor had performed several tests and scans, and had promised feedback on these within the next two days. In the meantime, Sharon Turner had been given some pain medication as a temporary relief.

"These pills are making me drowsy, that's all" she said.

"This damn traffic." Blake cursed softly. "It gets worse every year."

The small car in front of them, a peculiarly shaped bright yellow Ford Ka, had started moving forward again, and then jerked suddenly - a plume of steam erupting from under the hood. Blake could hear the hissing sound it made as the driver - a woman - put her hazard lights on and tried to pull over to the left, into the emergency lane. The little car had decided that was not going to happen, and had stalled instead. Almost immediately the impatient driver in the car behind them lay into his horn again - the sound slicing through Blake's head like a meat cleaver.

"Great." Blake shook his head. "Just what we need."

"The poor girl." Sharon Turner said sympathetically. "Go give her a hand."

"Really?" Blake asked. "That's going to put us even further back in the queue."

His mother frowned at him. "I raised you to be a gentleman, didn't I?"

Blake chuckled. "You did, mother, you did. I'm just worried about you, that's all. You need to get home and into bed."

"I'll be fine. Go help the girl."

Blake nodded, before pulling into the emergency lane to the left of the stricken vehicle. He switched the car off and opened the door. The incredible heat outside slammed into him as though it were a Springbok front row rugby player, and he was a skinny All Black wing, holding the ball. He closed the door hurriedly behind him, not wanting to let the cool air from the air-conditioner escape. As he made his way around the back of the yellow Ford, the impatient driver that had been behind them closed the gap where Blake's car had been. He was driving a black BMW 3-series, and revved the engine angrily as he stopped mere inches away from the Ford's rear bumper. He blasted the horn again.

Blake turned to glare at the driver, who was still just a shadowy shape in the reflective windscreen, shaking his head in disapproval and raising his hand to ask the man to wait. When he reached the driver's door of the stricken car, he leaned down and smiled in at the driver, a young and pretty girl.

"Need some help?" he asked.

She squinted up at him, somewhat embarrassed and frustrated. For a moment the sun caught a shiny silver clip in her hair, flashing brightly back into Blake's eyes. He crouched down on his haunches beside her window.

"It just died." She said, smiling hesitantly back at him.

For an instant Blake felt his heart skip a beat. The girl was really pretty - even bordering on beautiful - with her long brown hair tied up in a loose bun, and the startling green of her eyes mesmerising, as they danced in his direction, seemingly looking straight through him and into his soul.

"I noticed." He replied, surprised to find his throat suddenly dry. "It looks like a water-hose that burst. Let's get you off the road."

"Thank you." She replied, relieved.

He stood up and made his way to the back of the car, ready to push it forward.

"Move that piece of shit."

The angry shout came from behind him, and Blake turned to glare at the BMW. The driver was leaning out of his window now, gesturing his hand angrily, and spittle flying from his mouth.

"Take it easy." Blake said calmly. "Can't you see I'm working on it? Instead of honking your horn the whole time, why don't you get out and give us a hand?"

"Why don't you go fuck yourself?" the angry man yelled back.

"I beg your pardon?" Blake frowned, anger welling up inside.

"Forget him." The girl said, looking back at Blake from her window, the slight breeze lifting the hair from her brow and dropping it back gently again. She seemed to be getting nervous, and was obviously embarrassed about causing the backup in traffic.

The anger quickly dissipated, and Blake nodded, shaking his head momentarily. He placed his full weight behind the car and gave it a push, while the girl steered it towards the side of the road. It was surprisingly heavy for such a small car, and he immediately broke into a light sweat. After several muscle-aching seconds the car finally came to a stop, parked awkwardly in front of his car. He straightened and wiped his brow. The girl had climbed out by then and approached him. She was a head shorter than Blake was, despite the added height of the bun of hair on the top of her head, and she was wearing a light flowery summer dress with a pair of brown leather flat shoes. Blake couldn't help but notice how the perfect curves of her body teased the fabric of the dress and his imagination simultaneously. He felt like a school boy, crushing on the unattainable cheerleader.

"My hero." she smiled. "I don't know how to thank you."

"Slow down there, miss." Blake smiled back, blushing and averting his eyes from the distraction of her toned body. "I'm not done yet. We can't exactly leave you here on the side of the road, now can we."

"We?"

"Oh." He gestured at his car. "My mother and I."

The girl shielded her eyes from the sun and waved towards where Sharon Turner was seated in the passenger seat of Blake's car. Sharon waved back, smiling ridiculously.

Blake shook his head. He knew exactly what his mother was thinking right now. She had been trying to set him up on blind dates with her friends daughters' for months, always carrying on about how Blake shouldn't wait too long, and how it was important that he settle down before he got too old. The sight of this pretty girl, single and in trouble, had obviously kicked her imagination into overdrive again.

Single? How could you know that? Blake chuckled at the thought, not surprised that the first thing he had looked for when he saw the girl for the first time was the presence of a ring on her finger. Had all his mother's lecturing finally begun wearing him down? The fact that she wasn't wearing a ring did little to ease his nervousness.

"She's pretty." The girl said.

"I'm sorry?"

"Your mom - she's pretty for her age."

"Well, thank you."

"It's not your doing." She chuckled. "I think she was pretty way before you came along."

"Yeah, I know." Blake fumbled, confused as to why he was blushing. "I just meant..."

The cursed blaring of the horn cut his words short, as the BMW took the space where the girl's car had been. Blake noticed the driver was glaring angrily at them through the passenger window. It rolled down and he shouted through it.

"Stay off the fucking roads, you village idiots."

Blake was about to reply, when he caught a movement to his left, and was surprised to see the girl raising her middle finger at the uncouth driver. He couldn't help but laugh out loud. For a moment the perplexed driver was silenced, obviously amazed by the gesture he was being offered, and Blake was ready to believe he'd now finally move on, but to his surprise the driver switched his car off and opened the door angrily instead.

"Who the fuck do you think you are, you little bitch." he spat, as he marched around the front of his car, ignoring the protesting drivers behind him. He was headed straight for the girl, and Blake found himself stepping between them almost instinctively. His heart was racing furiously, as the incident was bringing back memories of school yard fights, most of them on the losing end, and he was finding it hard to believe that he was back in that situation again, after all these years.

The angry driver was both taller and wider than Blake, by large amounts, and the intense look of fury on his face only added an unappealing menace to his towering demeanour. He was dressed in a grey business suit, the pale blue of his shirt stained in sweat around the collar where the tie had earlier been yanked off. The suit and the man's actions did not seem to fit. The anger in him was almost tangible. He paused a few feet from where Blake was standing, trying awkwardly to protect the tiny girl behind him.

"What are you going to do?" the driver spat angrily at Blake. "I'll wipe you off the face of this earth, you little shit."

"Relax." Blake replied. "I know you're worked up. It's hot, the traffic's a killer, and everybody wants to get home, but just take it easy."

"Tell your little bitch with the itchy finger to take it fucking easy." the driver yelled, Blake's words only seeming to anger him more.

"Hey." Blake snapped back, starting to feel anger himself now. "That's a lady you're talking about."

"It's okay." The girl said from behind him, touching Blake gently on the shoulder. "I apologise, sir. I wasn't thinking."

"No." the driver laughed now, a crazy sound on the side of the highway. "You're damn right, you weren't. I'd imagine it's not something you're used to doing, is it? Thinking."

"That's enough!" Blake yelled suddenly, deciding he'd had enough of this bully and his verbal abuse.

"What is it, pussy?" the driver stepped closer to Blake, almost nose to nose, glaring down at him as beads of sweat ran down the side of his face, and the slightest stench of sweat and liquor-breath closed the gap between them. "What are you going to do?"

In his mind, Blake could see himself raising his fist suddenly and punching the brute in the throat, but even before he could translate the thought into an action, he felt the strange sensation in his stomach begin... the wave of calm that was growing in there, like a seed sprouting into a plant, stabbing through his organs and entering his blood stream, filling his entire body with warmth... and something else... something surreal. The tentacle fingers of this sensation seemed to pierce through his outer skin, radiating towards the man who towered over him, as if drawn to the darkness that was his soul. Instead of a fist, Blake found himself inexplicably raising the palm of his hand and placing it gently against the angry driver's chest.

His actions were controlled and calm, the actions of a fearless man, but inside he was thinking:

I'm going to die.

### Chapter 2

Blake seemed to have completely confused the angry driver. For a moment he glanced between the hand on his chest and the couple in front of him, frowning and uncertain, but the moment passed quickly and the confusion was replaced with anger again as he grabbed Blake's wrist.

"What the fuck do you think...?"

Blake felt himself directing the warm tentacle sensation in his body towards his outstretched hand, felt his palm tingle against the fabric of the suit, and almost instantly the driver stopped talking. Instead, he stared blankly at Blake for few seconds, as if he had been temporarily hypnotized, before stepping uncomfortably backwards, breaking the contact between them. He looked around uncertainly, as if unsure of what had just happened, as if he had forgotten why he was there. He swallowed hard, pulling at the collar of his shirt as if trying to get more air, before he unexpectedly swung around and returned to his car, starting the engine and driving away without another word, to join the rest of the slow-moving traffic headed towards Gonubie.

Blake felt an immense sense of relief as he turned to face the girl, the adrenalin pumping through his veins.

"Did you see that...?" he asked, smiling broadly, but the smile became a frown when he noticed the confusion and fear on the girl's face. She was trembling, despite the impressive humidity, and Blake placed his hand on her shoulder. "Hey. It's okay. He's gone now. Relax."

The girl shook her head and gave a weak smile. "I'm fine."

"You're shaking like a leaf."

"It was just a shock, I guess. How can somebody get so angry... over nothing?"

Blake shrugged. "Stress, I guess. Anyway, forget about Road Rage Man. It's over. My name is Blake, by the way. Blake Turner. And the lovely lady in the car there is Sharon."

She placed her hand in his, and the soft sensation of her skin sent tiny ripples of electricity through Blake's body.

"Jade." She smiled. "Jade Vega."

"That sounds exotic."

She nodded, smiling. "I guess. So what happens now, Mr. Turner?"

"Well, Miss Vega, I guess we call a tow-truck and wait. Luckily for you I have a friend in the business. We'll get you home in no time."

"That's sweet of you." She smiled. "Thank you, once again."

Blake waved her away. "It's nothing, really. Come, take a seat in my car while we wait. I've got the air-con running – it's a lot better than out here in this heat."

He led her to the rear door of the Mazda, opening it up for her. As she climbed in, her dress crept up, revealing her golden brown shapely legs, and Blake's heart skipped a beat. He quickly closed the door and moved over to the front passenger window, which wound down as he approached.

"Mom" he said, "This is Jade. Jade... my mother, Sharon. I'm just going to make a quick phone call – can you pass me my cell?"

Sharon Turner frowned as she handed it to him.

"That man was really angry. I was worried he was going to do something stupid."

"It's over." Blake smiled. "Forget him."

He stepped away from the car, leaving the two women to get to know each other.

The sun had almost set by this time, and as Blake dialled the number of his tow-truck friend, he admired the way the sky was turning a deep shade of purple, forming a beautiful backdrop to the row of red taillights of the cars lined up along the highway for as far as he could see. He turned away as his friend picked up, and after a few minutes he hung up, returning to the driver's side and climbing in.

"Eddie will be here in about half an hour." He said, turning to face Jade in the back seat.

"I feel terrible that you have to wait here with me." Jade replied. "Really, you guys can go ahead. I'll be fine."

"Nonsense." Sharon exclaimed. "We're in no rush, right Blake?"

Blake nodded. "Sure. It's no hassle."

"Well, thank you, both of you." She smiled sheepishly. "I'm really lucky you came along."

"So Jade stays in Gonubie as well." Sharon said to Blake, as if she had just handed him an important piece of information from the President.

"Really?" Blake said, frowning at his mother.

"Yes." Jade replied. "My father and I moved here a few months ago from Stellenbosch. He is an engineering consultant and we tend to move around a lot."

"That's fascinating." Sharon said. "Blake is an engineer too. He designs and manufactures vaults for banks."

Blake laughed. "No, not really. I work for a vault manufacturer. There's a difference."

"It's the same thing." Sharon brushed him off. "That company wouldn't be where it is today if it wasn't for you, and you know it."

"Well, I think it's interesting, either way." Jade smiled, catching Blake's eye for the briefest moment before looking sheepishly away. "And where is Mr. Turner?"

"You mean Blake's father?" Sharon asked, and Jade nodded. "We lost him several years ago – to cancer, unfortunately."

"I'm so sorry." Jade apologized. "That's awful."

Sharon nodded. "It was. He was only 59 year's old." She paused for a moment, the silence filled with the slightest after-taste of grief, but she quickly pushed it aside. "He was a good man, and he had a good life. And, most importantly, he raised a good son." She added, rubbing Blake's shoulder.

"Yes, he did." Jade smiled. "My hero." She paused for a moment. "My mother passed away when I was really young too, so I guess I understand a little – my father has shaped who I am today as well."

"You should taste Blake's cooking." Sharon smiled back, changing the entire subject. "He makes the best lasagne." A light-bulb seemed to have gone off in her head as she suddenly turned excitedly to look at Jade. "Why don't you come over for supper some time?"

"Mom." Blake scolded. "Leave the poor girl alone."

Jade smiled, glancing briefly across at Blake. "I'd love to."

Sharon beamed a smile at Jade before turning to Blake. He could tell how proud she was of herself just by looking at the smug grin on her face.

"Great." He chuckled. "I guess I'm cooking for three again soon."

"Four." Sharon added. "Why don't you bring your father along too?"

Jade shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "I'm not sure that would be possible. My dad's kind of private. He doesn't really interact well with others, if that makes any sense."

"Okay." Sharon nodded. "He's shy. I get that. Well then, you come anyway. We'll eventually get around to warming your father up."

"It sounds as if this is going to be a long-term friendship, then." Jade smiled.

Blake felt an overwhelming sense of butterflies in his stomach every time she looked at him, and he was still trying to come to terms with the sensation.

"How's tomorrow night?" Sharon asked eagerly.

"Saturday? Perfect." Jade replied.

"Great."

They were distracted by an orange flashing light from behind, and Blake checked the rear-view mirror to see the familiar shape of the 1-ton tow truck that belonged to his friend, pulling up behind them.

"Help is here." He said, as he opened the door and stepped out, heading over to the truck.

He shook hands with his friend, quickly gave him a breakdown of what they needed, and then returned to the car as the truck overtook them on the left-hand shoulder of the road, pulling up in front of Jade's car. The driver proceeded to hoist her car up with the wheel-lift mechanism on the back of the pickup and after a few short minutes waved back at them that he was ready.

"Where to?" Blake asked, starting the car.

"Ninth Avenue." Jade replied, and Blake swung the car out into the line of traffic, which had started diminishing and was now flowing a lot easier. The tow truck, with Jade's car in tow, fell in behind them as they crawled towards the nearby off-ramp into Gonubie.

They pulled up in front of Jade's house a little less than a half an hour later. By this time the sun had set completely, the narrow street outside the house lit only by a few streetlights, casting their pale yellow glow from above. Blake guided Eddie as he reversed the tow truck into the driveway, parking it on the side of the yard, out of the path of other vehicles that may need access. Once his friend had unhooked the vehicle, he walked over to where Blake and Jade were standing.

"All set, buddy."

"Thanks, man." Blake said, shaking Eddie's hand. "How much do I owe you?"

"Don't be silly." Eddie smiled. "We go way back."

"No, please." Jade objected. "Really, how much?"

Eddie waved her away. "I don't charge my friends. Here..." he reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card, handing it to Jade. "This is the number of a mechanic friend of mine. Drop my name and he'll give you a good discount on repairing that radiator hose."

"Thank you so much." Jade beamed. "I really appreciate that."

"Any friend of Blake's, is a friend of mine."

He said goodbye and climbed into his car, pulling away before they could convince him to change his mind about accepting payment.

"You really saved my ass today." Jade turned to Blake. "I don't know how to thank you."

"Take my mother up on that dinner invitation." Blake replied before thinking, and almost immediately wanted to take his words back, but it was too late. "It will make her happy." He added awkwardly.

"It's a deal. Tomorrow night, right?"

"Right."

"Right."

They stared at each other for a moment, before Jade burst out laughing. "So do I get an address?"

Blake blushed suddenly, realising that he'd never told her where they lived, and feeling idiotic for forgetting. "I'm sorry. Let me write it down for you."

He found an old till slip from a Pick n Pay supermarket in his pocket and wrote their address on the back of it.

"I put my cell number there as well." He said, half embarrassed, as he handed it to her. "Just in case you get lost."

"I won't." she smiled, taking the piece of paper and placing it in her handbag, pulling out a business card in the process. "But thanks anyway. Here's my card."

Blake took the card from her, studying it briefly. It was black, with a surreal twist of pink smoke in the background and the picture of a beautiful red and white burning candle on the foreground. The words were written in bold white letters:

VEGA CANDLES.

"You make candles?" Blake asked, as he tucked the card into his pocket. "That's fascinating."

"It's something I've always loved doing." She smiled.

"So are you sure you'll be alright from here?" Blake asked, looking up at the house which was still dark, except for a few outside lights.

"I'll be fine." Jade replied. "My dad will be home soon anyway, and he'll be hungry so I guess I should start supper."

"Okay then."

"Okay."

Blake stood there awkwardly for a moment, not sure if he should lean in and hug his new friend, or just turn and walk away, but Jade raised her hand towards him. He took it in his, shaking it gently, thrilled once again at the soft touch of her skin.

"See you tomorrow." He said finally, before forcing himself to turn and walk down the driveway.

Once he'd started the car and made a quick U-turn in the narrow road, he headed off towards their house, on the other side of the seaside village. He drove in silence, replaying the events of the past hour in his mind, struggling to get the image of Jade out of his thoughts.

"You look like the cat that swallowed the mouse." Sharon Turner gloated beside him, and Blake looked at her, frowning as if she was crazy.

"What are you talking about?" he asked, trying to sound surprised.

"You know." His mother smiled at him. "I wasn't born yesterday. You like this girl."

Blake shrugged nonchalantly. "She's okay."

"Ha."

"What do you mean, ha?"

"Ha." Sharon repeated.

Blake chuckled and shook his head, leaning forward and turning up the volume on the car stereo, which was tuned to the local radio station. They were playing one of Pink's latest hits, and he drummed his fingers on the steering wheel in tune to the song as they approached the traffic lights on Main Road, trying hard to wipe the stupid smile off his face. The traffic lights were green for them, but the line of cars in front were not moving, and Blake waited patiently behind them, trying to see past the motionless vehicles to figure out what the delay was. He could just make out the flashing blue lights of a Traffic Officer's vehicle up ahead at the intersection.

"What is it?" Sharon asked, craning her neck to try and see for herself.

"It looks like an accident or something."

After a few minutes without moving, Blake noticed some of the drivers of the vehicles in front of them were climbing out and walking towards the intersection. He switched the car's engine off and opened his door.

"I'm going to check it out." He said, leaning back in to speak to his mother. "If it looks like it's going to take a while, we can turn around and make a detour."

"Okay." She nodded solemnly. "I hope everyone's alright, though."

He closed the car's door and followed the few people that were walking towards the intersection. As he approached he could see that there were several Traffic Officers on the scene, as well as the bright red flashing of lights as an Ambulance pulled up and parked on the opposite end of the intersection. In the eclectic flashing of blue and red lights he could just make out the crumpled remains of a vehicle in the middle of the intersection, while a large truck was parked off to the left, halfway across the pavement. It appeared the passenger vehicle had been crushed by the truck, the result of one of the vehicles jumping a red light, it appeared. Blake joined the small crowd that had gathered along Main Road, and he was amazed how tragedies such as this always attracted people like flies to a piece of rotting meat.

"What happened?" he asked the young guy standing next to him, a well-tanned surfer dressed in board shorts and a billabong vest, despite the apparent lack of sunshine.

"Dude in the Beemer jumped the robot." he replied. "Went right under the truck. It's gross, bro."

"Holy shit." Blake replied. "Is he okay? Was there anyone else in the car?"

"No, dude. And no, dude – I don't think so."

Blake left the surfer's side, pushing his way through the small crowd to try and get a better view. As the intersection came into sight, he was amazed at the state of the vehicle that had been hit by the truck. It was almost unrecognisable, just a crumpled mess of metal, plastic and leaking fluids. Glass littered the intersection, sparkling like multi-coloured fireflies as the tiny pieces reflected the red and blue emergency lights. Traffic officials were busy cordoning off the area, setting up orange cones in order to redirect the traffic, while two paramedics were removing a stretcher from the rear of the ambulance. Despite the current state of the smashed vehicle, Drake could still make out the familiar grill and blue and white badge of a BMW on what used to be the front of the car. He shook his head in dismay, and was about to turn around and head back to the car to find another route home, when his eye caught a flash of pale blue somewhere in the mangled remains of the car, and above it the glimpse of the pale face of the person trapped inside. Blood made the crushed face unrecognizable, but the stained blue shirt and the grey business suit the man was wearing sent a shiver instantly down Blake's spine. He knew this person. Less than an hour ago he had threatened to pummel Blake into oblivion for holding up the traffic! Suddenly Blake recognised the crumpled car as well, a black BMW 3-series. This was the car that Road Rage Man had been driving, except he wasn't angry anymore.

He was dead!

### Chapter 3

For the rest of the drive home, back down towards 3rd Avenue and then east towards the next intersection on Main Road, Blake was lost in thought. He just couldn't get the image of Road Rage Man out of his head. Flashing memories of the big guy screaming into his face earlier, spittle and sweat flying everywhere, had filled Blake's mind like an overflowing fish bowl. The man had been bursting with energy then, biting at the bit with all the pent-up anger and frustration inside him, prepared to get into a random fist fight on the side of a highway with strangers, yet less than an hour later he was dead. Not just dead - crushed to death by a 14-ton delivery truck, mangled in his car like some macabre Transformer machine. It could have happened to anyone, Blake knew that, randomness and coincidence were the trademarks of the natural world we lived in - organised chaos as the human race tried its best to find a reason to survive. It could have been just that - a coincidence. But Blake knew differently. He knew what had happened earlier - what he had done.

What had he done, exactly? Blake was struggling to put the event into words that he could understand, even in his own mind. He had reached out and touched the man at the height of his anger, and he had passed something onto him, calmness - peace, even. He had felt the tentacle-like sensation grow in his stomach, and reach out through his hands into the man. It wasn't butterflies - he knew what those felt like. This had been something else. Something... darker? The thought sent a shiver down his spine, and he automatically reached for the heater gauge on the dashboard, turning it up.

"What's the matter?" Sharon Turner asked concernedly, noticing Blake's silence since returning from the accident scene.

"It's nothing, Mom, really. I guess I'm just a bit freaked out by the sight of that car, you know?"

"The poor man." Sharon sighed in agreement. "What an awful way to die."

Blake wanted to tell her how he felt right now - that sensation of responsibility, that had latched onto the top of his spine like a soul-sucking leech, that was pounding against his skull - but he hadn't mentioned that he had recognised the driver - felt it was something she was better off not knowing.

This is your fault.

He ignored the voice in his head, not wanting to think about that possibility, but the words rang loud and true, and were proving impossible to block out. Had he caused the accident somehow? Had the supernatural sensation of whatever it was that he'd experienced somehow affected the driver's awareness and caused him to turn in front of that truck without seeing it? It was the only thing that really made any sense right now, and Blake wished that he could know for sure - for his own sanity's sake. But then, on the opposite side of the coin, another voice was repeating a single word - coincidence.

They pulled into their driveway a few minutes later and Blake soaked in the silence that descended over them as he switched the engine off. It was peaceful there, and he wished he could stay in that moment for ever.

"Come on." Sharon nudged him on the arm as she opened her door, flooding the inside of the car in the pale yellow glow of the interior light. "I'm starved."

Blake climbed out reluctantly, activating the alarm and central locking as he followed his mother up the short flight of stairs to the landing at the front door of their house. The house was modern, but modest. A single-story face brick building with all the aluminium trimmings that were so popular along the coastline, with large sea-facing windows that allowed for fantastic views of the Indian Ocean during the day, and which reflected the peaceful lighting of streetlamps along Ocean View Drive at night. They had bought the house shortly after James Turner, Blake's father, had passed away, using the money from his provident fund. Having the house fully paid for, and no monthly rentals aside from the annual rates and taxes, allowed them to survive comfortably on Blake's salary alone. Sharon Turner had always been a working wife, right up to the point where her husband had discovered he had cancer, but the treatments and the care he required had forced her to resign from her job as a Sales Manager for a local food distribution company to look after him.

The effect of his passing on her had been worse than he or anyone else could have imagined it would be, and the result had been the development of several ailments and illnesses - most of them subconsciously created by her psyche, her mind's way of dealing with her husband of thirty-two years' death, Blake guessed. He had supported her through this stage, a deep understanding of her grief, as he was experiencing that grief with her. His relationship with his father had been incredible. With Blake being the only son, James Turner had devoted a large portion of his free time to him. Fishing trips to the Great Kei River, camping up in the mountains at Hogsback, even sky-diving in Grahamstown... all memories that Blake shared with his father. These trips were never just for fun, though. His father had used them as opportunities to impart his life-lessons on Blake, trying desperately to help him avoid the silly mistakes he had made in his own life, but also encouraging Blake to make some of his own - stressing the importance of learning from failure, and the satisfaction of getting up again thereafter. Even at the height of his illness, as the smell of the cancer-rot permeated every inch of the hospital room, James Turner remained positive and happy. In his final moment he was smiling through the pain, while around him his family grieved at his passing.

Blake had an older sister, Nordika, who had travelled down from Rustenburg where she lived with her husband and two children, to spend those last few days with them - at that point where they knew it would be time for him to go soon. Her life, so far away, kept her extremely busy, and they seldom got the time to catch up with each other - but there had always been a bit of distance between them - not just the physical kilometres that separated the two cities, but also the emotional distance that came from him feeling like an outsider in his own family, and also the fact that she perceived him to be his father's favourite. Although James Turner had a deep love and respect for his son, he struggled to show that same love and affection towards his daughter - and the result had been that she had left the house as soon as she could, running off to marry a man she had met in a nightclub less than a month before. Blake knew this had played on his father's mind, as he regretted not spending more time with Nordika as she grew up, and he tried desperately to make amends for it later in his life - but by that time Nordika had her own family to care for, and the wounds of her childhood were no longer as important to her. They settled instead for the occasional telephone call and the odd parcel of photographs of the grandchildren, finger paintings and the like.

Since the passing though, even those little things had dwindled off. Blake couldn't remember when last he had spoken to Nordika, but he was almost certain it hadn't been since the funeral more than three years ago.

The interior of their little seaside house was a clash of two styles. His mother had kept some of their old furniture from their previous house - the sofas, rugs, curtains and a few antique coffee tables mostly - while Blake had added a few of the modern luxuries such as a flat screen plasma television, surround sound hi-fi, modern lamps and even more modern art. Despite the contrast, the two styles seemed to complement each other, one highlighting the beauty of the other in its own unique way.

Sharon Turner headed straight for the open-plan kitchen and started pulling out food from the refrigerator, but Blake scolded her instead and ushered her towards the living room.

"You need to rest."

"I'm fine, honey." she protested, but Blake was insistent and made her sit on the sofa with her feet up, handing her the television remote.

"Watch TV." He said. "I'm making supper - something light?"

Sharon nodded, flicking through the channels until she settled on one, a repeat of one of her favourite series. "Tuna salad, perhaps?"

"Sounds good." Blake replied, and then set about preparing their meal.

As he worked he tried desperately not to think about Road Rage Man or crushed vehicles or the slow mixing of body and engine fluids on cooling tar, focusing instead on the fresh green of the lettuce leaves, the cold feel of tomatoes in his hands as he rinsed them, and the sharp burn of onions on his tear ducts as he sliced and chopped them up. The death images flashed occasionally through his mind, and he found the only way to completely shut them out, the only way to make them stop, was to think about the girl.

The girl. Even whispering those words in his mind had his heart racing. He couldn't remember when last he had felt this way. There had been a few girlfriends in the years between high school and now, some more serious than others. College girls, friends who became more than friends, even, ashamedly, an unhappily married woman - once. None of them came close to eliciting the same emotions he was feeling right now, though. None had impacted on his soul to this degree of severity before. There was something about Jade Vega that just twisted his entire being into a pretzel shape instantly. It was ridiculous, he knew that. He was mature enough to have gone past the belief that there was such a thing as love at first sight, those were thoughts nurtured by teenagers and romantics. He was neither. Yet, somehow, the more he listened to the thumping of his heart against his chest at the thought of her, the more he felt the blood coursing through his veins at breakneck speed at the silent whisper of her name, the more he had to believe that perhaps, somehow, the notion actually existed. There was no other logical conclusion.

Thinking about her had left him with a warm and satisfied feeling - and he felt the change in himself immediately as he handed Sharon her bowl of salad, leaning down to kiss her gently on the forehead.

"What was that for?" she asked, smiling up at him with tired eyes.

"For nothing." He replied happily. "Can't a son show his love?"

"Okay." Sharon chuckled. "I'm not complaining. But let's be honest - we both know why you're so happy right now... it's that girl, isn't it?"

"What girl?" Drake asked, raising his eyebrows in mock surprise.

"Jade."

"Who?"

Sharon laughed. "Oh, well in that case - I don't see the need to invite a strange girl over for supper tomorrow night if you don't even remember who she was. Have you still got her phone number - I need to call and cancel."

"Oh." Blake smiled, flopping down on the sofa next to her. "You wouldn't do that."

"Try me."

Blake nodded, savouring a bit of tuna salad before turning seriously towards his mother. "I think I know better than that."

"Damn right." Sharon replied dramatically, putting on her best Italian mafia accent. "I'll pop a cap in your ass."

They both laughed hysterically, and for the moment all thoughts of dead BMW drivers were completely forgotten.

### Chapter 4

Blake woke up to the sounds of the sea. The ocean seemed especially loud and angry, roaring in the distance as it threw itself onto the rocks along the shoreline. He lay there for a few minutes, just listening to the crashing of the waves, the sound carried easily on the slight breeze as they caressed the curtains across his bedroom window. It was still pitch dark and Blake was surprised to see the green digital lights on his alarm clock radio indicated that it was only three o clock in the morning. He tried closing his eyes and drifting back to sleep, but it eluded him. After several minutes he eventually sat up and swung his legs over the edge of his bed. His throat felt dry and parched, so he wandered off towards the kitchen.

The house was quiet, as was to be expected. He could just hear the faint snoring of his mother in the next bedroom as he passed, and the antique miniature grandfather clock in the living room ticked hypnotically to the beat of his bare feet on the hallway carpet, the sound carrying throughout the silent house. The kitchen tiles were cold under his feet, but the coolness was refreshing. He opened a bottle of orange juice from the fridge and poured himself a glass as he stood over the kitchen sink, staring out into the deserted street. He could make out the distant white shapes of the waves as they formed near the shore, and he marvelled at their sublime beauty, even in the darkest of nights. He swallowed the glass of orange juice in one go, relishing the taste of it as it poured down his throat quenching his thirst. He rinsed the glass briefly under the tap before returning the juice bottle to the refrigerator. As he made his way back towards the bedroom his ears caught the tiniest of sounds - out of place to the usual noises of the night - and he paused near the hallway, peering into the living room.

His eyes had become accustomed to the dark, enough so that he could make out the familiar shapes of the furnishings in the small room, barely revealed by the lighter shade of the window behind the drawn curtains. When he did not hear the sound again he turned to leave, but at the last moment his eye caught a glimpse of a shape that did not seem to belong there. He peered intently at the single-seater chair opposite the sofa where he and Sharon had sat earlier that night, trying to decipher the strange shape of it - something was wrong but he couldn't quite place his finger on it. He instinctively reached for the light switch on the wall to his right, running his fingers across the silky coldness of the wall until he felt the familiar electrical switch, but paused when the shadow within the shadow of the chair seemed to shift suddenly. Blake's heart raced, thumping hard against his chest. They had experienced a burglary a few years back, had woken in the morning to find the microwave and DSTV decoder missing - but this was different. Somebody was in the house right now, he was convinced of it. They could be armed and violent! As his heart thumped, Blake gingerly applied pressure to the light switch.

A moment before the lights came on, the shadow seemed to rush out of the chair and towards him, and Blake instinctively brought up his arms as protection, but now in the bright glare of the living room light, the chair was empty and there was nobody between it and him. A sense of relief flooded over Blake, and his heart seemed to pound even harder against his chest as the adrenalin wore off and his mind started reassuring his organs that everything was okay. Blake breathed out slowly, convinced that his mind was just playing tricks on him. He flicked the light off again and then turned towards the hallway, almost immediately coming face to face with the shadowy, yet familiar face of Road Rage Man!

He looked the way he had when Blake had seen him earlier on the side of the road, pale blue shirt and business suit, sweaty and angry. There was an opacity to the shape of the man, as if he were not really there, almost as if he was merely a holographic image. Blake blinked, watching in fascination as Road Rage Man spoke silent words to someone beyond where Blake stood. He turned to look over his shoulder, but there was nobody there! When he refocused his attention to the front again, he had to physically move to the left as the image of the man walked towards, and then past him. A second person came into view now, as Blake watched. A young boy, no more than six years old. Blake watched in fascination as Road Rage Man punched an invisible wall to his right, before grabbing the boy and tipping him upside down and into a bathtub filled with water! The boy was screaming silently, feet kicking in desperation as he struggled to keep the water out of his lungs, but he was powerless against the brute strength of the raging man that held him down! The boy stopped kicking eventually, and the image of Road Rage Man let him go, standing up straight. He turned slowly, until he was facing Blake again, staring at him, his head cocked slightly to the side... and smiling! As if he could see Blake, as if he knew he had watched what he had just done! Then, suddenly, Road Rage Man lurched angrily towards him!

Blake stumbled backwards, tripping over the edge of the tiles in the kitchen and landing hard on his backside. He started opening his mouth to scream out, but just as he did so he realised the living room was empty again. He quickly jumped to his feet and flicked the lights back on, glancing around to try and spot man, or even the boy, but the living room and kitchen were empty.

"Jesus Christ." He whispered, leaning against the kitchen counter, feeling suddenly weak in his knees.

When he had regained his composure he proceeded to check the entire house, room by room, only to return to the kitchen again after finding nothing. He checked the locks on the front and back doors, and both were still securely latched from the inside. Whatever he had seen, whatever the images had been, they were not real.

How could it have been him? His mind screamed at him in panic. Road Rage Man is dead. You saw his mangled corpse.

Then what had just happened? Was he losing his mind?

"Honey?"

He spun around in surprise at the voice, knocking a wooden bowl of plastic fruit off the counter as he did so, sending plastic apples and pears bouncing onto the kitchen tiles noisily.

Sharon Turner frowned at him from the doorway of her bedroom. "Are you okay?"

"Fuck, mother." Blake hissed. "You scared the crap out of me."

"I heard noises."

"I know. Sorry. It was me. I..."

You what? He thought to himself. You saw the man you killed this evening in your hallway?

I didn't kill anyone. Did I?

"... I was thirsty. Needed something to drink."

"Well go back to bed, honey." She smiled sleepily. "It's not even four a.m."

"I know." He waved her off as she disappeared back into her room. He checked the living room and kitchen once more before he picked up the scattered plastic fruits and then flicked off the lights. He headed off to his bedroom, closing his window and shutting out the sound of the sea, before he climbed into bed again, staring at the ceiling.

Blake was confused. He knew what he had seen, yet at the same time he also knew that what he had seen was not possible. He had never believed in ghosts or even psychic projections, so why was he tripping out? The answer was almost instantly obvious; he knew it before he even thought the words.

PTS. Post-Traumatic Stress.

He wanted to argue with himself, but the rational part of his brain refused to allow any further imaginings of dead men killing their children, and Blake was more comfortable with his own self-diagnosis anyway. He turned eventually and closed his eyes, drifting off to sleep again.

* * *

By the time he opened them again, the sun was pressing against the drapes, asking to be allowed in. He did so eagerly, sweeping the drapes aside, happy to have the warmth of the early morning sun against his bare chest. He wandered off to the kitchen and paused as his foot kicked a small round object across the floor accidentally. It bounced off the nearest cabinet before rolling back towards him. Blake stooped and picked up the plastic plum. He frowned momentarily, the briefest recollection of his 'incident' the night before flashing through his mind, before he brushed it aside as a distant dream instead, dropping the plum in amongst the other plastic fruit in the bowl on the counter. The next few hours were spent tidying up the house, washing and drying the dishes, replacing the refuse bag in the plastic bin with a new one, and preparing a quick meal of fried bacon and eggs, which he had set up and laid out on the kitchen counter along with condiments, just as Sharon Turner came out of her bedroom, rubbing her eyes sleepily.

"Wow." She muttered as she shuffled over to one of the kitchen stools and sat down. "You've been busy this morning."

"I was up early." Blake replied. "Thought I'd get the house done before I head off to town."

"Town? What for?"

"I'm cooking for you and Jade tonight, remember? And you promised her my famous lasagne, for which I have no ingredients. I also want to get a bottle of wine - which one is the best? Red or white? What type? Dry? Sweet? Fuck, I know absolutely nothing about wine, do you realise that?"

Sharon laughed heartily. "You're like a little spring rabbit, hopping around nervously as if you're going to end up as a roasted meal on somebody's plate someday."

"I thought you liked her?" Blake asked, scoffing at the remark.

"I do. But remember that you hardly know this girl, Blake. You're getting awfully excited and she may just end up breaking your heart someday."

"I don't know, Mom." Blake replied. "I just can't shake the feeling that meeting her yesterday was... I don't know - destiny? Fate?"

"Don't get me wrong, Blake. I'm extremely happy for you. I mean, God knows it's about time! My clock is ticking, and I still want to see your kids one day, but I just don't want you to get hurt, that's all."

"I'm a grown man." Blake smiled. "Kids? Jesus, Mom. We just met. Anyway, I think I can handle a little heart break, if it ever comes to that."

"Well, let's hope it never does."

"So you still haven't answered my question. Which wine goes with lasagne?"

"Any white wine will do - but if you really want to impress her, get a nice Chianti."

"A ki-what?"

"Chianti. It's spelt with a c and an h." Sharon chuckled. "And don't forget flowers. Girls love flowers, even if they tell you they don't."

Blake washed their breakfast dishes once they were done, before grabbing his keys and heading for the door. He left Sharon seated at the large sea-facing window, busy with the one thousand piece puzzle she had started working on a few weeks earlier. As he pulled out into Ocean View Drive and headed up towards Main Road, he soaked in the beauty of the suburb in the early morning light.

Gonubie was about twenty one kilometres north of the main city of East London, simultaneously dependant on the municipality of Buffalo City for its basic services, yet also leaving its residents with a sense of being completely independent. It was named after the Gqunube River, which ran peacefully through the eastern part of the town, ending in the beautiful river mouth which opened up onto one of the most stunning stretches of sandy beach in the Eastern Cape. There were about twelve thousand residents in the town, residing in three distinctly separate areas - Mzamomhle was the lower income area, housing the thousands of poorer blue collar workers, while Riegerton Park and the avenues in Gonubie itself were home to the middle and upper class. The most well-to-do residents owned the mansions along the beachfront, or the estates, tucked away in secure cul-de-sacs along the tree-lined avenues. The most famous attraction in the little seaside village was the boardwalk which ran from the bottom of Main Road all the way along the beachfront to the mouth of the river. The boardwalk had received international acclaim and the surrounding beaches had been awarded Blue Flag status on more than one occasion. It was a little piece of coastal heaven and Blake felt blessed to be living there.

The weekends were always a hive of activity in the town, as an eclectic mixture of local residents and visitors from the larger city of East London flocked to the sandy beaches in search of the perfect tan or the perfect wave. As a result, several shopping malls had sprung up over recent years to cater for the influx of beachgoers and tourists, and it was to one of these malls that Blake was now headed. Kings Mall stood majestically at the entrance to the town, a massive concrete and steel building which seemed so out of place amongst the nearby sandy beaches and grassy parks. The parking lot was already half full of cars, and Blake quickly slipped into an opening near the main entrance, feeling fortunate for having found such a convenient parking space so quickly. He made his way up through the main doors, headed straight for the Pick n Pay supermarket, the anchor tenant in the building. There he filled a shopping basket with the ingredients for later, being extra careful to select the correct wine, as his mother had suggested, and taking three bottles, just in case. After he had paid for everything he headed back towards the parking lot, and had almost left the mall when he remembered that he had forgotten the flowers. He was sceptical about that part, not sure whether or not it would come across as a bit creepy, or appear too corny even, but he wasn't one to argue with his mother's advice, and so he turned around and entered the small florist down one of the corridors.

The shop attendant helped him pick out a colourful bunch of wild flowers, nothing too romantic or too bland, before he finally made his way back to the car again, parcels in hand. He was so focused on trying to remove the car key from his pocket without damaging the flowers or dropping his shopping bags, that he almost walked straight into the man who was leaning against the Mazda, smoking a cigarette.

"Fuck. Sorry." Blake apologized, but then immediately raised his eyebrows at the man. "Can I help you?"

The stranger dropped his cigarette, which was only half-smoked, and crushed it out with his shoe - a heavy combat type boot.

"Apologies." He said, and there was a distinct Americanised twang to his accent and low voice, yet simultaneously Blake could tell there were traces of that familiar South African rawness as if he had spent a considerable amount of time in both countries. He stepped aside, allowing Blake to pass so that he could unlock the Mazda's door. As Blake stowed the parcels on the passenger seat, he was acutely aware of the stranger's presence behind him. He turned to face the man eventually.

"Can I help you with something?" he asked again, irritated.

The stranger, tall and athletic, light-skinned for an African man, and dressed in a jeans and faded T-shirt, with a patched leather jacket that looked as if it had seen many days, most of them better, lifted the pair of sunglasses and looked Blake directly in the eyes - almost immediately making him feel uncomfortable enough to shift position.

"I don't mean to intrude." The stranger said, his voice melodic and smooth. He extended his hand towards Blake. "The name is Idris. Idris Mdoda."

The first thought that popped into Blake's mind was that this was one of those scam-artist types who was now going to probably spin him a long and soppy story about how he lost all his luggage, had his car stolen, got mugged or whatever, in order to ask for money to 'buy a bus ticket'. He wasn't about to fall for that one regardless of how respectable the man seemed!

"That's very nice." Blake replied, ignoring the handshake gesture and making his way around to the driver's side. "I'm sorry, but I'm in a hurry."

"Please." The man said, touching Blake gently on the arm as he passed, halting him in his tracks. "I'm just trying to find the nearest Bed and Breakfast. I'm from out of town, and I need a place to stay for a couple of days. I was hoping you could help?"

Blake paused, before turning around and nodding briefly, feeling sheepish for brushing the man off.

"Of course. I'm sorry. There are plenty of them down Main Road - that way" he said, pointing, "Just follow the brown information signs."

"Thank you so much." The stranger smiled, dropping his sunglasses back onto his nose, and stepping off towards a nearby parked car. "Very kind of you." He opened the driver's door of the vehicle, a white, dust-covered, late model Toyota Hi-Lux double cab pick-up truck, before pausing and turning around again. "Sorry, one more thing, I heard there was an ugly accident on Main Road last night - a truck and a car?"

Blake felt his heart skip a beat at the mention of the accident, and he frowned, nodding.

"Yes, I believe so."

"Forgive me." The stranger chuckled. "I'm not being nosy or anything, but I overheard a couple of the locals talking about it in the shop when I went to buy cigarettes earlier on. It's a fairly small town this, did you know the man who died?"

Blake shook his head slowly. "No. I can't say that I did."

"Aah. Okay then. Well anyway, you have yourself a good day, Mr. Turner." He fake saluted and then climbed into the Hi-Lux, starting it and driving away through the parking lot and towards Main Road before Blake could even think to ask him what his interest in the dead man or the accident was.

As Blake climbed into the car and started the engine, reversing out of the parking, a sudden ice-cold sensation ran down his spine and he slammed on the brakes, his heart racing as he replayed the past few minutes in his mind. One crazy question hounded him, and no matter which way he thought about it, he just could not figure out the answer!

How had the stranger known his name?

### Chapter 5

Blake wasted no time in racing out of the parking lot and down Main Road, in the direction in which the Hi-Lux had driven, but the few short minutes had given the stranger more than enough time to completely disappear amongst the many criss-crossing roads and avenues that made up Gonubie. After driving around aimlessly for several minutes, Blake eventually gave up and headed towards the house. He couldn't stop thinking about the short confrontation though, and the more he replayed it in his mind, the more positive he was that he had never given the man his name. He remembered the man introducing himself, though, Iris, or something along those lines. By the time Blake was pulling into his driveway, the incident had begun seeming less significant, and as the day progressed, it eventually faded from his memory completely.

By late afternoon he started preparing the meal for that night. Sharon had decided to take an afternoon nap, and he was grateful for the opportunity to work without being supervised, as she loved to do when he cooked. By the time she woke up it was already six p.m., and the lasagne was slow-cooking in the oven, filling the house with the delicious aroma of melting cheese.

"That smells wonderful." Sharon smiled at him, as she sat down at the kitchen counter, rubbing her eyes.

"Don't touch it." Blake scolded. "I'm going to take a quick bath. It should be ready by the time I'm done."

"Okay, Jamie Oliver." she said sarcastically, throwing an oven mitt at his head as he ducked into the hallway.

By the time he returned, he had dressed in a smart pair of beige Chino's, comfortable suede slip-on shoes and a tight long sleeve avocado-coloured t-shirt.

"Wow, you look amazing." Sharon said, as she glanced up from reading a magazine. "Do you have a hot date, or something?"

"Funny." He replied, as he checked on the tray in the oven, before switching it off against the wall. "Are you planning on changing clothes at all?"

Sharon frowned and looked down at herself. "What's wrong with what I'm wearing?"

"Jeans and that horrible yellow blouse that came from the eighties? Seriously, Mom?"

Sharon laughed. "For your information, it's a new blouse. Eighties fashion is coming back again, excuse me."

"That's what they tell you when they're trying to get rid of the stuff they haven't sold since the eighties." Blake chuckled.

"Well, I have nobody to impress tonight." She smiled.

"Me neither." Blake replied, as he removed plates and cutlery from the kitchen cabinets and started laying out the small four-seater dining room table. "I dress like this all the time."

Sharon almost fell off her chair she was laughing so loud, and Blake snatched up a scatter cushion and was about to throw it at her, as she screamed in laughter attempting to duck behind the kitchen counter. In all the cacophony that ensued Blake almost didn't hear the doorbell ring. He tossed the cushion back on the couch, checked the time on his watch, and then looked anxiously around the house, trying to ensure that everything was neat enough before he answered the door. He looked at Sharon and whispered softly.

"She's early."

Sharon waved him towards the door, smiling.

Blake paused for a moment before he turned the handle and swung the door open. The girl was really there. She was wearing a plain white dress, casual yet also formal in a way, tight chiffon that clung to the curves of her body. Her rich brown hair was tied up into a pony-tail and it danced behind her head as she swung around to face the door as it opened. Blake was instantly thrown by her beauty again, and that incredible green fire in her eyes!

"Hi." She smiled.

"Hi."

He held the door open for her, and as she passed by he caught a whiff of her perfume, sweet and almost mysterious.

Sharon wasted no time in coming over and hugging Jade tightly much to her surprise, before leading her over to the living room and guiding her to a sofa.

"Sit, my child." she smiled. "Can we get you something to drink? Coffee? Wine?"

"Wine would be great." Jade replied, smiling up at Blake as Sharon ushered him away into the kitchen.

"Make that two glasses." Sharon added to the order.

Blake opened the bottle of white wine he'd bought earlier, pouring two glasses and bringing it over to the two ladies, who by this time were deeply engrossed in conversation as if they had been friends for years.

"Thank you, honey." Sharon beamed as she took the glasses from him, handing one to Jade.

Jade sipped hers. "Mm mm. A 2008 Chianti, I'd guess. Good choice."

"Wow. You really know your wine." Blake was surprised as he realised the date on the bottle matched exactly.

"I came from wine country, remember."

"Ah, of course. Cape Town."

"Stellenbosch, specifically."

"I love that part of the world." Sharon added. "All those rich farmers."

"Mother."

"What?" she asked, feigning surprise. "I'm allowed to dream, aren't I?"

They all laughed in unison, and with the ice broken, Blake poured himself a single whiskey and water and joined the conversation in the living room. He never really got the chance to get many words in, as the two ladies discussed everything from their families, to handbags and even the state of politics in the country. Blake was surprised to discover that Jade originated from Minas Gervais, a state in southwest Brazil, and that she had left the country in 1996 when her father had accepted a contract in Pretoria, South Africa. Her mother had passed away from malaria when Jade was three years old, so she had been raised by her hard working father, and tutored privately by an au-pair from the United States. When they had left South America she was only eight years old, so she did not remember much about her home. The past eighteen years were spent between Pretoria in the Northern provinces, Bloemfontein in the Orange Free State, and Stellenbosch in the beautiful Cape. They had finally moved to East London earlier this year, and she was hoping that this would be where they finally settled down.

She had started her candle-making business in Stellenbosch a few years ago, and it not only kept her busy, but also provided a level of comfort and security, as it was the one thing she knew that would never change, no matter how many times they had to move. It had grown beyond her expectations, even here in East London over the past few months, to a point where she was making a steady income now, selling both locally and internationally from her website.

"I really wish your father could have joined us." Sharon sighed at one point. "It would have been so wonderful to get to know him."

"My dad's strange like that." Jade apologised. "He's definitely not a people's person, which is probably why he loves his job so much, as he doesn't have to interact with others on a regular basis."

"You said he was an engineer, or something similar?" Blake asked.

"An engineering consultant." Jade replied. "He's a genius when it comes to the design and layout of water-based structures - you know, like oil rigs and dams, for example."

"That's amazing." Sharon nodded. "And what is he working on currently?"

"He's actually doing a follow-up on the work he assisted with when we first arrived in South Africa - the Nahoon Dam, outside of town?"

"Your father designed the dam?" Blake asked.

"No. My grandfather did, actually. In 1964 he was part of the international design team, perfecting the gravity system that is used in dams worldwide today. Nahoon Dam was one of the pilot projects. My father designed the enhancements which were aimed at repairing a few basic faults back in 1996, and now he is doing an analysis on the repairs for sustainability purposes."

"Well, we'd love to meet him." Sharon said. "I'm sure you could convince him to make an exception, just one time?"

Jade laughed. "I promise I'll try, okay? So tell me a bit about your family."

"Well, I have two children. There's Nordika, Blake's older sister, she lives in Rustenburg with her husband and my two grandchildren, and then there's Blake, of course. Did you know that Blake was a miracle baby?"

"Really?" Jade asked, smiling at Blake, who waved her away in embarrassment.

"It's true." Sharon exclaimed. "He wasn't supposed to make it out of the womb. According to doctors there was an eighty percent chance he was going to be stillborn. And yet, here he is, fit and one hundred percent healthy."

"That's incredible." Jade said.

"Who else is starved?" Blake asked, trying to change the subject as he stood up and headed towards the kitchen. He had heard this story one time too many.

The girls replied in unison, and then made their way to the dining room table. Blake dished up the lasagne, adding a side portion of tossed green salad with lettuce, olives, onions and tomato, and then placed the girls plates dramatically in front of them, before filling up their wine glasses and joining them at the table with his own.

"Bon Appetit." He smiled.

They dug in, and Blake was pleased to hear the compliments on his culinary skills from both Jade and his mother. They ate and spoke and laughed, and Blake was amazed at how natural and easy everything seemed to be going. There was no awkwardness or tension, the type usually accompanying the meeting of strangers for an extended period of time. Before he knew it the miniature grandfather clock in the living room was chiming ten p.m. and he had no idea where the time had gone. Their dishes had long since been piled in the sink, and they were still seated at the table, wine glasses being refilled happily by Blake as they emptied. By ten-thirty Sharon Turner started yawning, and eventually she stood up and stretched, leaning down and kissing Jade on the forehead.

"It's been an absolute blast meeting you, my girl." She smiled, her cheeks rosy from more wine than she was normally used to. "But I'm exhausted and it's way past my bedtime. If you'll excuse me?"

"Of course." Jade replied, standing up and hugging Sharon tightly. "It's been so much fun. Thank you for dinner."

"It was all Blake." Sharon smiled. "Goodnight you two." She headed for the bedroom, but paused at the hallway, turning to look back at Jade. "You will be visiting again, won't you?"

Jade looked across at Blake, who blushed.

"Most definitely." She smiled.

Sharon seemed content with the reply, and disappeared silently down the hallway, the faint click of her bedroom door signalling her final goodbye.

For a few moments there was only silence, kept company by the soft ticking of the clock in the living room, then they both spoke at the same time.

"So what do you think-"

"Did you hear about the-"

They paused, looked at each other, and then burst out laughing.

"Well, that was awkward." Jade giggled. "You first."

"No, you go ahead. Ladies first."

"Screw that." Jade exclaimed. "Where does that idea come from anyway? Those wig-wearing, carrot-up-their-ass-hiding socialites from two hundred years ago were such pussies."

Blake laughed. "I beg your pardon?"

"I mean, seriously. Think about it. Why would the men insist the woman go everywhere first? Is it in case there was a burglar waiting in the house and the man didn't want to be the first one to be whacked on the head with a fire poker? Or in case a lion had escaped the zoo and just might have been waiting in the restaurant foyer? It's always amazed me."

"That's a unique way of looking at it." Blake chuckled. "Okay, then. I was going to ask what you thought of East London, you know, in comparison to the other places you've lived."

"I love it here." Jade replied, sipping her wine. "It's so much more laid-back than any of the other major cities in this country. There's hardly any traffic - except for a Friday afternoon of course." she laughed.

"How is your car, by the way? Did you manage to sort that hose out?"

"I did, actually. Thank you. The reference your tow friend gave me did a great job - it took less than a half an hour."

"Great."

"Did you hear about the accident last night?" Jade asked, and Blake shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "I heard it was horrible."

"I heard something like that." Blake lied, not ready to tell Jade any of the weird thoughts he'd been having lately, and especially not about his 'encounter' with Road Rage Man in the early hours of the morning. He'd have plenty opportunity to screw the relationship up later, it made no sense to do it on the first night.

"Yeah, that's terrible." Jade said sadly. "Life is so short, you know?"

"True, more so than we realise, most times."

"Exactly." She nodded earnestly, then added: "You know - I still believe that guy was a total douche, though."

Blake frowned. He couldn't agree more, of course, but it wasn't her choice of words that had him so confused suddenly.

"How could you know?" he asked, suspicion lacing the edges of his words.

"Know what?"

"How could you know that it was Road Rage Man that was killed in the accident?"

Jade almost choked at the question, spewing the last of her un-swallowed wine over the dining room table.

### Chapter 6

For a minute they stared at each other, both slightly confused. Jade picked up a dish towel and proceeded to dry the front of her dress and her lap, which had been soaked by the spilt wine. She placed the towel back on the counter eventually and leaned in towards Blake, a frown creasing her forehead.

"Are you telling me that the angry man from the highway was the one involved in that accident last night?"

Blake chuckled. "You just told me that you knew it was him, so why are you asking now?"

"What are you talking about?" she asked, sounding even more confused.

"You said the guy was a total douche. How could you have known it was him, as you were never there?"

Jade laughed now, a long and hearty sound that eventually had her clapping her hand over her mouth for fear of disturbing Sharon's sleep. "You dork. I was referring to the douche that decided women should always go first. You know... the wig-wearing weirdo's we were discussing before the accident."

"What?" Blake frowned now. "How can you just jump between topics like that? It's very confusing, you know."

"I'm sorry." She smiled, loosening her pony tail and allowing her hair to fall loose, a sight that took Blake's breath away instantly, although he tried hard to hide it. "It's an old habit of mine. My father absolutely hates when I do that. Oh my God... that was so funny. Your face. You looked as if you'd just discovered that I was a transvestite."

"Pfft. Not likely." Blake chuckled, realising his misinterpretation now and trying hard not to be distracted by the absolute beauty of the woman in front of him.

"Dude, have you seen some of those Taiwanese men on the internet? I'm telling you, it's almost impossible to tell the difference."

Blake shook his head. "I know. But not you... you're too..."

Jade smiled, cocking her head. "I'm too what?"

"I don't know... feminine, I guess."

"Well, thank you, kind sir. I will take that as a compliment."

"It was."

Jade reached over towards the vase on the counter and played with the petals of one of the flowers. "These are beautiful. I love wild flowers."

Blake slapped his hand to his face, covering his eyes with his fingers. "I was supposed to give those to you hours ago. They were yours. I'm such an idiot."

"Mine? You bought me flowers? On the first date?" She sounded genuinely surprised, and even charmed by the idea.

Blake opened his fingers slightly and peered through them at her. "So you consider this to be a date, then?"

"Well, you did buy me flowers." Jade chuckled, blushing slightly as she stared at him with those sparkling eyes.

"I did."

"A date then."

"Okay." Blake nodded, smiling. "A date."

"Well, thank you." She smiled, adding: "For the flowers. And dinner."

They stared at each other for a moment, a palpable attraction between them that neither could deny, before Jade eventually averted her gaze. She suddenly seemed embarrassed, saddened even, and the change in her mood was confusing to Blake.

"Is everything okay?" He asked.

"I'm fine." She smiled uncomfortably. "It's late. I guess I should be getting home, though."

"Sure. Are you okay to drive?"

"I'm an excellent driver." Jade said as she stood up from the counter, reaching for her handbag.

"You did finish two bottles of wine."

"I had help." Jade chuckled. "I'm fine, though. Really."

Blake followed her to the front door reluctantly, opening it for her as they reached it. A cool waft of sea air met them unexpectedly, lifting Jade's hair dramatically and it brushed against Blake's face briefly. He breathed in the clean perfumed scent of it, his heart racing.

"Looks like there's a storm coming." Jade said, placing her arms across her chest, indicating the trees in the front lawn which were being punished by the strong wind outside.

"Seems like it."

They made their way across the lawn to the concreted driveway, where Jade's car was parked behind the Mazda. She unlocked the driver's door, and then paused before opening it. She turned to face Blake suddenly.

"I just want you to know..."

"Yes?" Blake prompted when she paused again.

"I had a really good time." She smiled.

"Me too."

"Okay."

"Okay." Blake nodded, smiling.

She turned and climbed into the car, winding down the window as she closed the door. She started the engine and switched on the headlights. Blake shoved his hands in his pockets, suddenly cold from the change in temperature.

"So can I call you?" he asked shyly, before she had a chance to leave.

"You'd better." Jade replied, and then smiled before putting the small car in reverse and disappearing down the driveway. She looked back at him from the road, lifted her hand briefly, and then drove off, leaving Blake alone on his front lawn, being buffeted by the wind.

Despite the cold bite in the air and the goose bumps on his arms, Blake had never felt this elated before. Jade had captured his imagination, and he was finding it hard to get her out of his mind. She had barely left and already he felt as if he was missing her. He was hardly the type who believed in the fairy tale of love at first sight, but he could not shake the strange hold she seemed to have on him. It was almost magical, yet completely unreal at the same time. He tried to wipe the grin off his face, but found that it was impossible. He gave up eventually and headed for the front door, sensing that the rain was going to come pouring down at any second. It was the swinging of an engine trying to start and the subconscious recognition of the car that was parked across the road under a tree that caught his attention, and he paused on the front porch and peered through the darkness at the barely visible shape of it.

Despite the darkness, it was an unmistakeable sight. The white Toyota Hi-Lux double cab bakkie seemed to be staring back at him, taunting him with its presence, and Blake couldn't shake the feeling that he had seen the vehicle somewhere else. He knew it did not belong to any of his neighbours, as he knew each and every one of them in one small way or another, yet it was a vehicle that he had seen before... not long ago either.

Then realisation dawned. The reason the bakkie looked so familiar was because he had seen it earlier that day, at the mall, driven by the strange man with the foreign twang in his voice - the man who had enquired about the accident, and who had inexplicably known Blake's name. Confusion was clouding Blake's thoughts, as he tried to convince himself that it was just a coincidence, and that the stranger from the parking lot had not followed him home and was not now sitting in his vehicle watching Blake's house like some stalker. That was not a possibility, not in real life, yet as if in answer to his denial, the engine finally swung to life and the bakkie pulled hastily away from the curb, heading down Ocean View Terrace in the direction Jade had taken several minutes earlier, headlights still off. When it reached the intersection at Main Road, it swung left towards town and then the headlights were switched on, speeding off out of sight, the roar of its engine fading away until it disappeared in the sound of the wind.

For a moment Blake considered possibly chasing after the Hi-Lux, but then he changed his mind. For all he knew it wasn't even the same vehicle from this morning. Maybe it was just some random guy making out with his girlfriend on the side of the road, or something like that. He was becoming paranoid - ever since his encounter with Road Rage Man - he'd been linking random events back to it. And he had been making some weird stuff up in his mind, as well. Like the 'vision' of the dead man, and even the imagined 'power' he had thought he'd projected into him. Thinking back now it was becoming more and more likely that none of those things had ever happened in the first place, and that he was just overreacting in general. One thing he was certain about, though, was the way he felt about Jade. From that there was no escaping!

Changing his thoughts back to her quickly allowed the suspicious presence of the Hi-Lux to fade away from his attention entirely. He made his way back up to the porch, swinging the front door open hastily as the cold air and wind rushed in behind him, trying to find a calm and warm place to inhabit. He proceeded to clear up the leftover glasses from the kitchen counter, re-arranged the scatter pillows on the sofa, and then flicked the lights off as he made his way to his bedroom. He could hear the soft familiar snoring from Sharon's room as he passed, and he tiptoed quietly to his bed, pulling back the covers and sitting down. He removed his socks and shoes, and then the rest of his clothes, leaving only his boxer shorts. He always slept that way, had never enjoyed the strangling sensation of a shirt or shorts on his limbs as he slept.

The wind was howling outside now, a cold and lonely sound, and the tiniest draft of air was finding its way through the gaps between the window frame and the glass, nudging his curtains gently in the moonlight. He lay there for what seemed an eternity, trying to switch his mind off, trying not to think about the beautiful woman he had recently met, but it seemed as if it was going to be an impossible task. She was everywhere, regardless where he turned his thoughts to. After a long time though, the several shots of whiskey seemed to start taking effect and he felt himself drifting towards a restful place. Just when he was about to fall asleep completely, he heard the knock on the front door. It was loud in the quiet of the night, startling him at first, before he could decipher the sound clearly. The knocking came twice more - and there was an urgency to it which had Blake wide awake again.

He reached over to the floor and picked up his Chino's, slipping his legs in naturally as he stood up and did the button at his waist. He hurried out into the hallway, down the passage passed his mother's bedroom, where he could hear her snoring, and then across the kitchen to the living room, pausing for a moment at the door to peer out through the peephole. It was dark outside, the automatic motion sensor on the porch light must have malfunctioned, because it would normally kick in when somebody approached the porch. He strained his eyes to separate the dark shapes on the other side of the viewer from each other, and eventually he could make out the shape of a man standing directly in front of the door. Blake's heart raced briefly, wondering what would possess someone to knock on their door at this time of night. The shadowy figure moved then, reaching his hand forward and knocking on the door twice more, the sound booming against Blake's forehead unexpectedly and making him instinctively jerk backwards.

Blake looked briefly around the living room, searching for any sort of object which could double as a weapon if need be, and he quickly spotted the vase with the wild flowers on the kitchen counter to his right, a few feet away. He reached over and cradled it in his right hand, as he undid the latch on the front door with his left, before turning the handle and swinging the door open. As if in reaction to the motion of the door opening, the sensor on the porch light activated and the bright yellow glare of the twin spotlights covered the porch in fake daylight. The stranger on the porch took a surprised step backwards, but then regained his composure and leaned forward again.

"Are you Blake?" His voice was gravelly, laced with the throaty growl of a long-time smoker.

"Yes?" Blake replied, keeping the vase out of sight in the hand behind his back. The stranger was shorter than he was, but there was a bulkiness to his frame that indicated a fair degree of strength and hard muscle beneath it. He was wearing a pair of jeans and a creased plaid shirt. There was an odd smell coming from him - almost garlicky in nature, but not as pungent. "What do you want?"

The stranger looked both ways along the porch, as if trying to make sure that there were no prying eyes anywhere, and Blake steadied himself to slam the vase into the man's head if he even tried to enter the house, but instead the stranger closed his eyes and breathed in deeply for a moment, before opening them again and staring straight into Blake's eyes, a steely determination in that glare.

"Stay the fuck away from my daughter." He hissed through his clenched teeth. "I won't warn you again."

Blake could just imagine the look of surprise that appeared on his own face as he sucked in his breath. For a moment he was dumbstruck, uncertain as to how to respond to the warning, but then he regained his composure and straightened himself up to his full height - a good foot or two more than the older man at his front door.

"Are you talking about Jade? Are you her father? Look, there must be some sort of misunderstanding... Jade and I are just friends. It's really nice to meet you though."

He switched the vase behind his back to his left hand and then extended his right towards the man on the porch.

The man, anger lacing his eyes as he stared down at Blake's extended hand, refused the gesture and instead cast his gaze back up at Blake's face.

"Stay away. I'm warning you." He hissed again, before turning angrily and marching off the porch and into the darkness on the lawn, beyond the reach of the bright yellow lights, disappearing as if he had never been there in the first place.

### Chapter 7

The Sunday morning ritual in the Turner household involved getting up at six a.m. and heading down to the boardwalk along the beachfront for a leisurely stroll to the Gqunube river mouth. Blake and Sharon had been faithfully following this ritual ever since James Turner had passed away. They made the two kilometre walk regardless of the weather conditions - rain, wind, sunshine - it did not matter. The whole point of any ritual is that it takes place - regardless. Luckily for them, the weather this Sunday was impeccable. It was a beautiful morning, the storm clouds from the night before had been blown away by the almost gale force winds, leaving the boardwalk strewn with odd leaves, papers and windswept branches, but also ensuring that a beautiful, sunny day remained in its place. They would talk about general things on their walk, using it as a time to catch up on the week past, but mostly just using the precious time to soak in the natural beauty of the wild South African coastline, and to meditate on their blessings.

They both had mild hangovers this morning, so there was very little discussion taking place, but after the first twenty minutes the fresh sea air had seemed to rejuvenate them slightly, and Blake soon found himself talking.

"I had a visitor after Jade left." He said, picking up a broken branch which had been swept onto the sturdy wooden walkway, and using it to flick aside the odd piece of debris in their path.

"Really? I was so tired I never heard a thing. Who was it?"

"Jade's father."

Sharon Turner chuckled. "Seriously? The recluse? That must have been interesting?"

"It was. He threatened to hurt me if I ever saw Jade again."

Sharon stopped walking and stared incredulously at Blake. "What? Are you serious? He said that?"

Blake nodded. "Yep. And I don't think he was joking around."

They walked in silence for a moment, before Sharon shook her head in amazement. "That's ridiculous. Does Jade know?"

Blake shrugged. "I'm not sure. I haven't spoken to her yet today."

"You should call her. Tell her what happened."

"I don't know. We've just met - don't you think it's a bit weird, though? It's not even like we're dating or anything, yet her father is already on my case? He doesn't even know me. And how old is Jade anyway? She must be in her mid-twenties already? I mean, really. What's her old man's problem?"

Sharon chuckled. "Ah, you're falling for this girl, aren't you?"

"What? No, don't be silly."

"Yes you are." Sharon teased. "I haven't seen you this passionate about a woman before since, well, never!"

"You think?" Blake beamed, putting his arm around his mother's shoulders as they walked.

"I know!"

They had reached the end of the boardwalk by then, and stepped off onto the warm sea sand. The beach stretched away for as far as the eye could see, disappearing around the end of the bay formed where the river met the Indian Ocean. Blake kicked off his sandals, picking them up and carrying them in his hand. They crossed the stretch of sea sand until they were standing at the edge of the river, where Blake stepped in to the shallow water, enjoying the cool sensation of it on his bare feet.

"You should speak to Jade about her father, though." Sharon said seriously, taking a seat on the sand nearby. "Sort any issues out now, before things get too complicated."

"I know. I plan to."

"When are you seeing her again?"

Blake shrugged. "I'm not sure. I'll call her later, I guess."

They started making their way back after a few minutes. The beach was pretty much deserted this early in the morning; it was one of the reasons they preferred such an early walk. Within a few hours it would be packed with beachgoers, surfers and dogs on walks with their owners in tow. They decided that a hearty breakfast would be in order when they got home, both in agreement that nothing built up an appetite quite like a refreshing walk along the beach. By the time they reached the end of the boardwalk again, they were passing groups of families and older couples headed in the opposite direction. It was going to be a beautiful day, which meant it was going to be a bumper crowd.

"How are you feeling?" Blake asked, as they walked through the car park and headed up towards Ocean View Terrace. "With those pills the doctor gave you, I mean?"

"Much better, actually." Sharon smiled. "It was probably just my ulcer acting up again."

"When will those results be ready?"

"Tuesday."

They reached their house a few minutes later, and Blake opened the door, letting his mother in. The house was stuffy, so Sharon immediately set to work opening all the windows and the sliding door on the back porch to let the air through. The sea breeze immediately cooled the place down.

"I'm going to take a shower." Blake said, as Sharon started unpacking bacon from the freezer.

"Bacon, eggs and toast?"

"Sure, thanks."

He left her in the kitchen as he made his way to the single bathroom. He turned the shower on, letting the water heat up, before he undressed and stepped in. The warm water was soothing, and he spent several minutes just standing there, soaking it in as it rinsed the trace amounts of salt from his skin. He coated himself in shower gel before washing his hair, finally stepping out after several long minutes, feeling totally refreshed and ready for the day. He walked through to his bedroom, wrapping a towel around his waist. It was going to be a warm day, so he dressed in a pair of board shorts, a grey and lime-green Redland T-shirt and then slipped his sandals back on. As he made his way back towards the kitchen he smelt the unmistakable whiff of something burning.

"Did you burn the bacon again, mother?" he chuckled, as he turned the corner into the kitchen. The first thing that caught his eye was the frying pan on the stove, which was spewing a thick, dark column of black smoke, threatening to catch fire. He rushed over, turning the dial on the stove to 'off' and yanking the pan aside, burning his fingers. The bacon in it had already burned to an almost black crisp. "Fuck."

He opened the kitchen window to let some of the thick smoke out, and then went looking for Sharon. She had probably been distracted again by one of the neighbours, he thought, as he made his way through the house. She was not in the living room and he couldn't find her outside in the garden either. He returned to the house, calling her name as he went, with no reply. He started becoming concerned when she did not answer after a few minutes.

"Mom?" he called again, as he walked down the hallway towards the bedrooms, thinking she may have needed the toilet and used the en-suite in her room, but when he knocked on her bedroom door there was no reply. He tried the handle and the door was unlocked, so he swung it open.

Sharon Turner was lying on her back, halfway across her bed, her feet dangling on the floor awkwardly. For a moment Blake couldn't understand why she had changed from her favourite white blouse into a bright red one, but as he approached her he realised it was the same blouse she had been wearing this morning, but that it was now covered in blood!

Her blood.

His heart pounded as he neared her, noticing the gaping tear in her throat, where her neck had been slit wide open, while the resultant spray of blood had covered the ceiling and walls around her, and was now pooling on the bed beneath her lifeless body.

Blake tried to shout out, but for some reason his voice was missing. Instead he choked on his own saliva as the words seemed to jam in his throat. His heart was pounding so hard in his chest that he swore the neighbours could hear it. He immediately collapsed on his knees next to the bed, wanting to cradle his mother's body, but simultaneously aware that the blood pooling around her would cover him completely if he tried. Somewhere in the back of his mind, behind the immense grief he was feeling, he was thinking sensibly - the police would come. They would want the crime scene to be undisturbed.

Crime scene? Jesus Christ.

The tears started flowing then, and with it a strange wailing sound, which Blake soon realised was coming from his own mouth. Sharon Turner was still beautiful for her age, and even now, lying in her own blood, she looked angelic and peaceful. The slit in her throat and the blood was the only indication that there was anything wrong with her, and it made Blake nauseous just looking at it - nauseous and... angry. No, not angry. Furious! How could anybody ever do this to another human being? What type of monster would come into somebody's home and brutally murder a harmless middle-aged woman while she was cooking Sunday breakfast? Who could be so ruthless, so cruel and animalistic?

The answer slammed into Blake like a ton of bricks, sending him back on his haunches. Perhaps this wasn't as random as he thought. Perhaps he knew exactly who had done this to her. The image of Jade's father standing at his door in the middle of the night flashed through Blake's mind. The man had seemed unstable, crazy even. He had threatened Blake. What if he had come back here to follow through on his threat, and had accidentally run into Sharon? What if she had struggled with him, and he had killed her. What if he was still here?

The thought was an ice cold sliver down Blake's spine. Could the killer still be in the house? Blake had been in the shower, probably for less than ten minutes. For all he knew the guy was standing behind him right now!

He swung around, but there was nobody else in the room. Staggering to his feet, Blake made his way through the house, from room to room, checking under the beds and behind the drapes - any place where somebody might be hiding, but he came up empty handed. By the time he had reached the living room he was out of breath and the shock of finding his mother that way had started settling in. He found his hands were shaking, and he felt as if he was going to throw up at any moment.

Is this really happening? He thought.

The room seemed to be spinning, and he had to steady himself against the kitchen counter. Rational thoughts started flowing through his mind finally. Call the police. Wait outside. Let them handle it.

A different voice was coaxing him from the other end though. If Jade's father was responsible for this, he would still be covered in her blood. If he left now he could still catch him red handed and make him pay.

Make. Him. Pay.

The anger that welled up from his gut was so intense that it frightened him. He had never felt this way before, had never felt the urge to rip somebody's head clean off of their body! He was surprised how violently it gripped him, how ruthlessly it wrapped itself around his mind and clouded his thoughts. Was this what blind rage was? Was this how Road Rage Man had felt a few days ago? It was an awful sensation, but right now it was the only sensation he cared about. He needed this anger, he needed this motivation!

He picked up his cell phone briefly, holding it in his hands and in his mind he dialled the police emergency number. His fingers hovered above the keypad, willing him to dial the numbers for real, but that cloud of anger attached to his mind was pushing that idea aside. He slipped the phone in his pocket instead and grabbed his car keys where they hung on the hook next to the front door, swinging the door open violently and marching out to the car. He started the engine and floored the accelerator as he reversed out of the driveway, tyres squealing angrily in protest. He slammed the car into first and sped off towards Main Road, feeling little regard for the flow of traffic as he dashed through it and up towards the mall end of town, towards the house where Jade lived, the image of her father's face the only thing he was seeing clearly right now.

The only thing.

### Chapter 8

Blake screeched the car to a halt in the driveway of the house where he had dropped Jade off a few nights earlier. Before the engine had even stopped turning, he was out of the car and headed up the driveway to the stairs that led up to the front porch. The front door was solid wood, and the sound of his knocking resonated within the house. The knocking soon turned to violent banging, and it wasn't long before he heard the hurried footsteps from within as someone approached from the other side. There was the sound of a latch being undone, and then the door swung open and Jade stood there, looking bewildered and confused, as if she had just woken from sleep. She was still wearing a pair of flannel pyjamas, and smiled when she recognised Blake.

"Hey." She said. "What are you...?"

Blake never gave her a chance to finish her sentence, storming past her instead and avoiding her attempt at grabbing his arm.

"Where's your father?"

"What?"

"Your father. Where is he?" he yelled now, noticing Jade's face as she winced at his raised voice. When she did not answer immediately he turned and walked down the passage further into the house. "Come out, you fucker!"

"Blake!" Jade was yelling now, rushing after him and pulling him by the shirt. "What are you doing? What's wrong?"

Blake almost collided with her father as he came out of one of the adjoining bedrooms in the hallway, and the two men paused and stared at each other for a moment, while Jade tried to come between them, the confusion now more apparent on her face.

"You!" The short, stocky man hissed as he recognised Blake. "What do you want here? I thought I made it-"

The Latin-featured man had no time to complete his sentence, as Blake punched him hard and squarely on the nose. He stumbled backwards and tripped over his own feet, landing hard on the floor of the room he had just come from. Blake could hear Jade screaming behind him, but he ignored her and stepped forward over the fallen man, who was now clutching his nose in pain.

"What the fuck." he was mumbling as blood coursed from his broken nose.

"You think you can come into my house with your threats and get away with it?" Blake was yelling as he punched the man again and again, his blows being bounced off by her father's raised arms.

"Blake! Stop it, please! What are you doing?"

Jade's voice and the desperate pulling from behind eventually made him stop, and he took a step backwards, panting heavily from the exertion, sweat coating his forehead and neck. He turned to face Jade, and the sudden stinging on the side of his face as she slapped him hard caught him by surprise.

"How dare you!" She was yelling now. "Who do you think you are?"

"Hey." He tried to placate her, but she was blinded by her own rage now, and she was swinging her arms wildly in his direction as he wielded off her blows.

"Are you crazy?" she was crying, tears streaming down her face, and the sight of them immediately made Blake's heart skip a beat.

He caught both her arms as she tried to slap him again, and held tightly onto her wrists, pulling her towards him.

"My mother is dead." He hissed, staring into her perfect eyes, and she stopped struggling immediately, a confused sadness creeping into her expression. He let her go and she took a step backwards slowly, a frown creasing her forehead.

"What did you say?"

"My mother is dead. Murdered." He said, chokingly.

"What? How? When?"

"Just this morning. Her throat was slit." He turned to face Jade's father as he struggled to his feet. "By him!"

The surprised look on his face was evident even through the hands that were trying to stem the flow of blood from his nose. He shook his head wildly, muttering in protest.

"Are you insane?" Jade asked. "You think my father killed your mother? He's never even met her!"

"He's met me." Blake muttered.

"No, he hasn't."

Blake nodded slowly. "Ask him where he was last night, after you left our place."

Jade's confused stare now focused towards the bleeding man who was holding onto the bedroom door. "What's he talking about?"

Her father shook his head again, and then sighed heavily, removing his hand from his nose and spitting blood out onto the floor. "Okay. I did make a turn there last night, but I can explain..."

Jade clasped her hands to her mouth in shock. "Where? At Blake's house? How did you even know where he lived... Oh..." she shook her head in disgust as the realisation hit her. "You followed me? You fucking followed me there? What the fuck?"

"Relax." He said, stepping towards her with his outstretched hand, which she slapped away violently. "It's not what you think. I was... worried, that's all."

"What did you do?" she asked then, her heart racing as she said the words. "Did you hurt Sharon? Did you... did you kill her?"

"What? No." he shook his head violently. "I swear, Jade. I just wanted to scare your new friend here, that's all. I wanted him to leave you alone – forget about you."

"Why would you do that?" Jade cried.

"You know why." He muttered.

"I'm not eight years old anymore." Jade cried. "For fuck's sake's, Marcelo."

"Look." He mumbled. "I went there after you left and just gave him a friendly warning, that's all. Then I left and came home. I've been here ever since. I know nothing about the woman you're talking about."

"My mother." Blake hissed, stepping towards him. "Her name was Sharon, and she had her throat slit wide open while I was in the shower this morning."

"Jesus." Jade whispered. "Blake – I'm so sorry."

"It wasn't me." The older man said defiantly. "I've been here all night since I left your house."

"Blake." Jade touched his arm gently. "He's a prick, but he's not lying. He snores like a chainsaw. It had me tossing and turning all morning."

Blake looked at the two of them in confusion, and then he felt his knees give way and he was sitting on the floor, back against the wall as the fight went out of him. Jade crouched beside him, tenderly placing her arm around his neck. Blake felt the tears well up then, and before he could stop them they were pouring down the side of his face as he sobbed uncontrollably.

"Dad! Coffee." Jade ordered, as she helped Blake to his feet and led him down the hallway to the kitchen, where she pulled out a chair at the kitchen table. She sat next to him, gently holding his hand. "Blake, I can't believe this. Who would do this to her? She was so... kind, goddammit! Such a wonderful soul."

"I don't know." Blake replied, having regained his composure. "I asked myself the same question, and the only thing I could think of was your dad. I'm sorry."

"It's okay." Jade said. "It's understandable." She glared at her father who grunted as he came over and placed two cups of coffee on the table near them. "Blake, meet Marcelo Vega, my over-protective father. Dad, this is Blake."

"I think your boyfriend broke my nose." He mumbled.

"And you deserved it for thinking you could interfere in my life." Jade replied angrily. "How could you?"

"I'm sorry about that." Blake said sheepishly, indicating Marcelo's nose. "To be honest, I wasn't thinking straight."

He couldn't help but notice that Jade had not corrected her father when he had called him her boyfriend, and the tiniest flutter of pride flicked across his heart. He sipped the strong coffee, immediately feeling the effect of the soothing caffeine.

"Have you called the police?" Jade asked.

Blake shook his head. "Not yet. I should have, I guess."

"Call them now." she scolded.

Blake adhered and took his cell phone from his pocket. He dialled the emergency services number and waited patiently as the call was transferred to the local police station. He spoke briefly, giving directions to his house, a brief description of what had happened, and leaving his name before finally ending the call.

"I should get over there." He said.

"I'm going with you." Jade nodded determinedly. "Let me just throw on some clothes."

"Jade..." Marcelo Vega started protesting, but he snapped his mouth shut after the icy glare she gave him.

She left to change clothes, leaving the two men alone in the kitchen, an awkward silence filling the room immediately. After several minutes she emerged, dressed in a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. She took Blake's hand and led him out of the kitchen towards the front door at the end of the hallway. Blake paused and turned towards Marcelo.

"I'm sorry, sir. Once again."

Marcelo shrugged. "It's okay. Don't think you'll get the same opportunity twice."

"I don't expect to."

"Come on." Jade said impatiently, leading Blake through the front door and down the stairs to where his car was parked. She climbed into the passenger seat as he started the engine and reversed out of the driveway, heading back towards Ocean View Terrace. The sound of sirens met them as they reached Main Road, and two white police vans, blue and yellow branding making them immediately recognisable, sped past them towards the house. Blake followed them reluctantly, not wanting to see his mother lying in that bedroom again. Jade must have sensed his trepidation, and she clasped his hand gently as he changed gears, smiling warmly at him as he caught her eye.

"It's going to be okay."

Blake nodded, not sure if anything would ever be okay, ever again. He pulled into his driveway a few minutes later, parking behind the police vans, which had also been joined by an ambulance and a few unmarked cars. There were several police officers standing around on the porch as they exited the car and made their way towards them. One of them stepped forward and held up his hand.

"Stay back, please." He said.

"I phoned you guys." Blake replied. "I was the one who... found her."

"Okay." The policeman, a tall African man, nodded and gestured towards a few plastic chairs on the porch. "Take a seat. We're going to need statements."

Blake took a seat next to Jade, watching as a stretcher was wheeled out the back of the ambulance by two medics, who then pushed it past them and into the house. After a long time they came out again, the unmistakable shape of Sharon Turner's body visible underneath the blood soaked sheet from her bed. Blake let out a gasp, and immediately Jade turned his head away from the image of his dead mother, making him focus instead on her face. He drowned in it then, studying each and every inch of her features, her eyes, nose, mouth... before he realised what he was doing he had leaned forward and their lips met gently – the soft sensation of their kiss lingering for the longest moment, and just briefly drowning out the world around him. When they finally came apart, he blushed.

"I'm sorry." He whispered. "I don't know what I was thinking..."

"Don't." she replied softly. "Don't think." She kissed him again, just briefly, sending thrills down Blake's spine. She pulled back and stared hard into his eyes. "You're not alone in this."

The clearing of a throat had them turn in surprise to look at the tall, balding man who stood over them, frowning. He was dressed in a smart pants and striped button-up long-sleeve shirt, framed by a dark blue tie that seemed to be choking his neck. The scent of his strong cologne briefly caught Blake's nose.

"My name is Detective Malherbe" he said, a thick trace of the Afrikaner accent coating his voice. "I'm from the Murder and Robbery division of the South African Police Services. I believe you found the victim's body?"

Blake nodded. "That's right. Her name is... was... Sharon Turner. She was my mother."

"I'm sorry to hear that, Mr. Turner." Malherbe said, his voice had too little emotion in it, a sure sign of someone who had said those words too often before. He flipped out a notepad and pulled up a chair alongside them. "Can you tell me what happened? And who this is?" He gestured at Jade.

Blake introduced her as his friend, looking awkwardly at her as he did, and after giving the detective the basic details he required – names, ID numbers, phone numbers - he then recanted the events of that morning, from the walk along the beachfront, to his mother preparing breakfast while he showered, and then the discovery of her body in the bedroom. His voice cracked with emotion at the part where he described the blood and the slit neck, and he had to pause there.

"Did you notice any valuables missing? Jewellery, cell phones or anything similar?"

Blake shook his head. "I'm not sure, but I don't think so. Why? Do you think it was a burglar?"

"We're not certain yet." Malherbe replied vaguely. "Do you know of anyone who would have had a reason to hurt your mother? Any enemies?"

Blake shook his head, squeezing Jade's hand. "No. Not at all. She was well-loved."

"Husband? Boyfriend?"

"No. My father passed away a few years ago. She was single."

"And you and she were sharing this house?"

Blake nodded.

"How would you describe your relationship? Good? Strained?"

Blake frowned. "I'm sorry? What are you trying to imply, detective? I loved my mother. We were extremely close."

"Relax, Mr. Turner. I have to ask these questions."

"It's okay, Blake." Jade said, sensing that he was becoming agitated. She turned to the detective. "I can vouch for that. They were very close."

"Okay." He replied. "What about things out of the ordinary? Mysterious phone calls, new friends, inquisitive neighbours perhaps?"

"No. Nothing." Blake said, then added. "There was the car..."

The detective's interest piqued. "Car?"

Blake shrugged. "There was this car parked across the road last night, after Jade left. I thought I recognised it, but it drove off before I could be sure."

"Recognised?"

"Yes, I saw the same vehicle at the mall yesterday morning. There was this strange guy who approached me, asked for directions. Sounded like a foreigner. American, possibly."

"Could you describe him?"

"Tall, African, well spoken. He smoked, that's all I can really remember."

"Did he give you a name?"

"Yes." Blake replied. "Iris, or Idris or something similar."

Blake winced as Jade squeezed his hand suddenly, and he looked at her, surprised to see her face had paled dramatically.

"Are you okay, Miss Vega?" Detective Malherbe asked, noticing her reaction as soon as Blake had.

"It's just the shock, I guess." Jade smiled sadly. "I can't believe she's gone..."

Blake patted her hand gently. "She really liked you, you know that?"

"What about the car? Make? Model? Colour?"

"It was a white Toyota Hi-Ace pick up. A double cab. It was dirty – as if it had been travelling regularly on gravel roads."

"Well." Malherbe stood up after writing everything down and flipped his notebook closed. "Thank you for your time. If you think of anything else, contact me at the station directly. I will likewise do the same."

Blake stood and shook the detective's hand. It was cold and hard to the touch. "Thank you, sir."

"I'd suggest you find somewhere else to stay for a while." Malherbe added. "The house will be sealed off until our investigation is complete. You're welcome to grab a few things from your room. I will send a constable with you."

Blake nodded absentmindedly. This was something he was completely unprepared for, and he wasn't quite sure what to do, what to pack, even. He was still running through the options of bed and breakfasts, or hotels, in his mind, when Jade leaned up and whispered in his ear.

"Come stay with me. With us."

He looked at her in surprise. "Seriously?"

She nodded, smiling excitedly. "It makes sense."

"What about... you know, your father."

"He's actually a sweetheart when you get to know him, I promise."

"I don't know. I wouldn't want to impose..."

"Nonsense. We have a spare room. You are going to have a lot on your mind over the next week or so anyway – you know, with the funeral arrangements, insurances etcetera. The last thing you want to still worry about is cooking food, or doing the laundry. Please... I want to help."

Blake smiled down at her. "Okay. Thank you."

He left her on the porch as he followed one of the police constables into the house and to his bedroom. He couldn't help but catch a glimpse of the bloodied room that his mother had been in, the dark stains on the carpet and the mattress, the spray of it on the walls. He felt a hollow sadness envelope him as he packed a suitcase with a few clothes, toiletries and shoes, adding in some important documents. He made his way back through the house when he was done, forcing himself not to look again, no matter what. Jade was waiting for him at the car, and she gave him a quick hug as he approached.

"You'll get past this." She said. "I promise."

They climbed into the car, and Blake reversed out into the street, pausing to catch one last glimpse of the house, bathed in the morning sunshine of a clear spring day, appearing as normal and peaceful as the rest of the houses in the cosy tree-lined suburb, yet the knowledge of the horror that had happened on the inside had given it a dark and evil shadow that Blake knew only he could see, but that was still there, taunting him nonetheless.

### Chapter 9

The days that followed seemed to pass by in a sort of misty haze for Blake. He had taken up accommodation in the spare room at Jade's house, a neat little room with a fairly comfortable double bed, an empty wardrobe and a window which let the morning sun in just perfectly enough each day. Her father was less than thrilled to have Blake there, as was expected, and the two men avoided each other pretty much all the time, with just the occasional grunt from the older man when they were forced to greet as they passed each other in the hallways or the kitchen. Marcelo Vega stayed in his room most of the time, always keeping the door locked, as if he thought Blake might snoop around or steal his slippers or something. Jade did her best to get the two of them to become friends, but her father wasn't interested, and after a few days she just gave up, focusing instead on just keeping the peace as far as possible, although there was a nervous edge to her demeanour which failed to escape Blake's attention.

Blake had put in for a week's compassionate leave leading up to the funeral. His boss, Adrian Boucher, was a bit of a prick. He had been appointed as the General Manager less than a year ago, after the previous GM had passed away suddenly. As the son of the director of the company, whose headquarters were based in Pretoria, he was the natural choice to take over the branch of Boucher Vault and Safe. He was several years younger than Blake, just barely out of college almost, and his head was way too big for his body, in more ways than one. As an inexperienced leader, he chose the route of the tyrant, and set about creating chaos in the once peaceful workplace, resulting in several resignations and a stack of grievances – all of which went unheard in the end due to his familial association. His first reaction when hearing that Blake needed some time off, was to lament about the fact that there were several jobs waiting in the department in which Blake worked, and that those would stand still if he wasn't there. Screw the fact that Blake had just lost his mother. That fact seemed to pale in comparison to the needs of the corporate company. Blake had been threatening to look for other work for the past couple of months, and the attitude of Adrian Boucher now had just enforced his decision completely. He was planning on resigning as soon as he returned to work. Even being unemployed would be better than dealing with that shit for much longer.

The funeral arrangements, on the other hand, went a lot smoother than either he or Jade had anticipated. Sharon Turner had been well-prepared for this, probably due to the fact that she had waded through the tons of paperwork and organisational requirements when Blake's dad has passed away, and she did not want him to have to struggle with those things as she had done. The executor of her will gave Blake the name of the funeral home she had chosen, and it only cost him an afternoon trip to the place, before everything had been sorted –coffin arranged, flowers ordered, and hymn chosen. She had also asked to be cremated, and the tiny chapel at the Crematorium was more than happy to set the date and time and even arrange a minister for the service. Her cremation would take place on Saturday, less than a week after her death, and only two days away.

Blake's sister, Nordika, and her family, were travelling the thousand kilometres down from Rustenburg for the service, and they would be in East London by Friday morning. Although their relationship had been distant, Blake was looking forward to seeing her. She was, after all, his last living direct relative. They spent several hours on the phone during that week, mostly catching up, and Blake was grateful for the opportunity to, but saddened that it had only happened because of his mother's murder. Life was strange that way, he thought to himself. You only know what you've got when it's gone, and sometimes that's too late, but sometimes it isn't.

The police closed off Sharon Turner's case by the Wednesday. Their investigation had resulted in a dead end. Blake's statement tied up to the layout of the crime scene – the burnt bacon, the frying pan, the wet shower. They had found no fingerprints, no weapon and no clues. The discovery that Sharon's cell phone was missing had led them to conclude that it had been nothing more than a robbery gone bad. Nothing unusual in the country, as people were being murdered daily for a lot less than just a cell phone. Detective Malherbe had promised Blake that they would keep the file handy, just in case any new developments turned up, and he would personally see to it that some form of justice would eventually prevail. He was a kind-hearted and dedicated man, and Blake admired him for his tenacity amidst a corrupt and lazy system of law enforcement.

Throughout all of this, Jade remained at his side. She was his crutch when he felt down, his brakes when he felt like losing control, and his source of peace amidst the war his life had become. Every day they spent together only made him appreciate her more, and it wasn't long before he was throwing around words in his head, words like love, as crazy as it seemed. It was difficult to explain how quickly he had become attached to her, how suddenly he had let his emotions run free. In the past he had always been aloof when it came to relationships. No commitments. No promises. Just take it as it came. Day by day. But with Jade he found himself connecting on a much deeper level – to the point where he found himself being overly protective of her – even in simple things such as crossing the road – and he began to understand Marcelo's need to be the same way. He sensed that a part of him was doing this because he felt that he had somehow failed with protecting his own mother, and that he was trying to make up for it with Jade. On the other hand, though, his connection with her ran deeper than a simple protective instinct. He felt it every time their hands touched, every time he caught a whiff of the scent of her hair, every time she laughed and the sound cascaded like tiny diamonds into his ears. The level of his feelings for her had multiplied daily, and the unfamiliarity of it excited, yet frightened him at the same time.

It was late Thursday afternoon when they returned from their appointment at Old Mutual, the insurance providers who were handling his mother's will. Blake had been called in to sign off a few documents that would release the funds from both a funeral policy, as well as a life insurance policy which Sharon had, unbeknown to Blake, taken out shortly after James Turner had passed. Blake and his sister were joint beneficiaries on the policy, and each one would be clearing close to eight hundred thousand Rand after tax. This was a large sum of money in South African terms – enough to buy a small house, if need be. The money was bittersweet though, and Blake would have traded it in an instant just to hear his mother laugh one more time.

Jade had been even edgier than usual for most of the day, constantly looking nervously around when they were walking from the car to the Old Mutual building, and even on the drive home, jumping at the sound of a car horn or a wayward pedestrian. As they pulled into the driveway of her house and Blake killed the engine, he grabbed her arm as she was about to exit, and she turned towards him, frowning.

"What's going on with you today?" he asked. "You've been jumpy."

"Me?" she chuckled, but the sound was forced. "You're imagining things."

"No. No I am not." Blake shook his head adamantly. "It's as if you're waiting for something to happen. Whatever it is, you know you can tell me, right?"

She leaned over and placed her head on his shoulder. "I know, Blake. But I promise you, I'm fine."

"Okay." Blake sighed eventually, opening his door.

"Do you want to go somewhere tonight?" Jade asked suddenly, and Blake cocked his head at her in confusion.

"Go somewhere?"

"Yes. Out. Somewhere... anywhere."

"You mean like to a club or something?"

"No, something more relaxed. Dinner maybe?"

Blake smiled broadly. "What would your dad say?"

She punched him lightly on the arm. "Funny. I'm serious. I need a break... from the house, you know? Just for a while."

"Sure." Blake nodded. "That would be nice."

"Only if you're up to it, though." Jade insisted. "With all the arrangements for the funeral and everything..."

"It's exactly what I need, as well."

"Cool."

"Cool."

They smiled briefly at each other before leaving the car and making their way up to the house. They found Marcelo in the kitchen, busy preparing supper. Jade kissed him on the cheek as she broke the news.

"We're going out."

"We?"

"Blake and I." she said. "He's taking me out for dinner. On a date."

Marcelo scowled at Blake from across the kitchen, and he shifted his feet uncomfortably.

"I'm making pasta."

"Make less." Jade said, spinning around and heading towards her bedroom.

"I don't think it's a good idea." Marcelo raised his voice after her, and she paused in the kitchen doorway. "It's bad timing."

"I need this." Jade replied.

"What about..." Marcelo paused, looking uncomfortably at Blake. "You know..."

"What's going on here?" Blake asked, sensing the underlying tone of their conversation and interrupting them. "What are you two hiding from me? I've noticed the whispered conversations over the past few days, and Jade, you've been walking around with your head on backwards lately. Spit it out... both of you."

Father and daughter looked at each other, at Blake, and then back at each other again. Marcelo started his shaking his head, but Jade sighed, waving him aside.

"We have to tell him, sooner or later."

"Tell me what?" Blake asked, unexpectedly proud of himself for getting a confession so quickly.

"It's about that man. The one you met the other day."

"Jade." Marcelo warned, but chose not to pursue any further after the glare he got from her.

"What man?" Blake asked, confused.

"The one you told Detective Malherbe about in your statement. The man from the mall, and the same man you thought you saw outside your house that night."

Blake frowned. He had almost forgotten about the mysterious stranger that he had met almost a week ago.

"The Iris guy?"

"It's Idris." Jade corrected. "With a D, like the actor. Idris Mdoda."

"That's right." Blake gasped. "Wait, how do you know him? What is this about?"

Jade sighed, pulling out a chair and sitting down. "It's a long story. Too long. When you mentioned his name and described him to the detective, I was shocked. I... we... weren't expecting him to show up here in East London so soon."

"Who is he?"

"He used to be with the FBI."

Blake laughed out loud. "The FBI? As in the Federal Bureau of Investigation? The one in America, right? Halfway across the world?"

Jade nodded solemnly, and her demeanour soon wiped the smile from Blake's face.

"You're serious? The FBI? What do they want with you?"

"He's ex-FBI." Jade said, emphasising the 'ex' part. "They tossed him out more than fifteen years ago, because of his obsession with us."

"I don't understand." Blake said. "None of this is making any sense."

"Remember when I told you that my father and I originally came from Brazil, and that we left when I was eight years old because my father got the contract in Pretoria?"

Blake nodded. "That's right. Minas Gervais, right?"

"Correct. Well, part of what I told you wasn't completely the truth. We did leave Brazil when I was eight years old, but not because Marcelo got the engineering contract for the dams in Pretoria. We left because of Idris Mdoda."

"So you're saying the FBI were after you? You were fugitives of some kind?" Blake asked, his curiosity piqued now as he pulled up a chair alongside her.

"Not exactly fugitives. There were questions about work my father did on some Brazilian government contracts – contracts that were funded by crooked politicians and drug lords mostly. Of course, we were never aware of that. Anyway, the FBI were investigating the contracts because of their links back to some high-profile businesses in the United States, some linking to state senators, in fact. They were in the process of freezing the assets of the directors of the companies that had worked on these contracts, and we were going to lose everything. Marcelo made the decision to leave the country so that I would be safe. If he was arrested, I would have gone to social services. After my mother died, he was my only living relative. He wasn't going to take the chance that I would end up lost in the system, on some work farm for the rest of my childhood, without a proper education."

Blake gave Marcelo a look of amazement. "You ditched the FBI for her?"

The older man shrugged his shoulders. "It was the right thing to do at the time. I would probably have done it again if I had to."

"Idris Mdoda was the lead investigator in the case. When he found out we'd left the country he insisted that the FBI assign resources to track us down and bring us back. The officials higher up in the ranks obviously realised we were just pawns in the whole deal, and that spending all those tax dollars to bring us back wouldn't make any sense. They refused, and Idris got furious with them. He was... obsessed with us, I guess - with me in particular, perhaps. When they shut his request down, he went nuts; to the point where they eventually fired him. He's been hunting us ever since, as far as we can tell. He found us in Pretoria, a few months after we arrived in South Africa in 1996, but we managed to ditch him and headed south. From there to Bloemfontein, and then to Stellenbosch. Every few years we think he's finally given up, and then he shows up again. He almost killed Marcelo in Stellenbosch. He's a lunatic, Blake. A madman. We finally thought we'd seen the last of him after we came to East London, but then you mentioned his name and we realised that he had found us again."

"I still don't understand." Blake frowned. "If the FBI aren't interested in you anymore, what motive does this man have to bring you back to Brazil or the States?"

"He's unstable." Jade sighed. "We think he lost it when he lost his job. Somehow I think he believes that we were responsible, and that bringing us in will earn it back for him, I don't know."

"Why not just go to the police?" Blake asked. "He's basically stalking you, and he has no legal right or jurisdiction here?"

"That's the thing." Jade replied. "My father and I aren't legally allowed to be in South Africa. We slipped in on fake temporary visas."

"You're illegal aliens?"

"In a sense."

"But you've been here now for what, eighteen years? Surely you could apply for citizenship or sanctuary or something?"

"We'd just get shipped back to Brazil." Jade sighed. "And what awaits us there is far worse than anything Idris Mdoda could do to us. The company my father was contracted to believes that he was the one who flipped and gave the crooked deal up to the FBI in the first place. With us disappearing like we did, we only strengthened their case. Some of them went to jail, others lost millions of dollars. If we go back to Brazil, we're dead."

Blake shook his head in disbelief. It all sounded like the plot of some crazy crime novel. By the look on Jade's face right now, though, he knew that it was as real as the chair he was sitting on. Tears had welled up in the corner of her eye as she stared back at him, waiting anxiously for him to say anything... anything at all.

"This man - this Idris," Blake said softly, staring unblinkingly at Jade. "Do you believe he had anything to do with my mother's murder?"

Jade looked away briefly, a flicker of concern in her eyes as she glanced at Marcelo, and then back at Blake again. She didn't have to say the words out loud for Blake to know what she was thinking.

"Well then." Blake said after a moment as he stood up from the chair, a determination in his eyes that matched his tone of voice. "I guess Idris Mdoda may have to invest in a bigger net if has any hope at all of catching his fish in my town."

### Chapter 10

The downstairs bar at the Gonubie Hotel seemed like a good choice for their night out. It was Thursday, so the usual young crowd were nowhere to be seen, leaving the venue empty enough to still have a decent conversation and enjoy a quick meal in relative peace and quiet. The bar ran along the length of the hotel, and it had an old school feel to it, one that was not seen too often anymore. Dark wood counters and tables, booth seating, dart boards and a well-stocked bar being run by an older barman. The only indication that you weren't in a time warp back to 1975 was the flat-screen plasma television hanging from a wall above the bar, currently showing highlights of last weekend's friendly international rugby tournament between the South African Springboks and the New Zealand All Blacks.

Blake chose a booth near the back end of the bar, closer to the kitchen. They placed a drinks order with the waiter who seated them, and then sat back and stared at each other for a few moments. Eventually Blake leaned forward and placed his hand over Jade's, where it rested on the table top.

"I can't imagine what it must have been like for you all these years." he said softly. "On the run. Growing up the way you did..."

Jade smiled and shrugged. "I guess it was something that I quickly became accustomed to. I can't complain though. Marcelo has been amazing... which is why I don't give him too much of a hard time about his reclusiveness. What he has sacrificed over the years, it's hard to put into words."

"And there I go and punch him on the nose." Blake shook his head.

Jade chuckled. "That's okay. He's tough enough to brush it off."

"This Idris guy..." Blake started saying, but then paused when the waiter returned with their drinks. After he had left, he continued. "This Idris... why do you think he would attack and kill my mother? What purpose would that serve in his agenda? It just doesn't make sense."

"He's a lunatic." Jade said. "He must have seen us together somewhere... followed you home. He must have waited until I showed up that night, hoping to follow me home. He probably lost track of me, and returned the next day to get my address from you. Sharon must have caught him by surprise, maybe things got out of control. They tend to do that when he is around. And it makes sense that he'd attack Sharon when you weren't around. He was always a coward. He would never come straight at myself and Marcelo without his team in the past."

"His team?"

"He recruited this gang of makeshift mercenaries a few years back. He calls them his 'Cleaners'. When he tracks us down he calls them in."

"What are they, like Commando's or something?"

"Not exactly. They're ruthless guns-for-hire, really. Men with no morals, only interested in the massive pay-cheques he offers them."

"And where is Idris getting the money from to pay them in the first place?"

"I think he may be working for one of the corporations back in Brazil that still want my father found and returned - or dead. It's the only logical explanation."

Blake sipped his drink, staring off into an area of space to the left of Jade's head. After several moments he returned his gaze to her eyes and leaned forward, whispering. "I'm going to kill him if he tries to hurt you."

Jade blinked a few times, shaking her head slowly. "No, please Blake. You have no idea what this man is capable of. I don't want you involved in any of this."

"It's too late for that." Blake exclaimed angrily. "I got involved the moment he slit my mother's throat."

Jade looked around anxiously at the rest of the room as Blake raised his voice, relieved to see that nobody seemed to be paying attention to them. Aside from the barman and the waiter, there were two older gentlemen having a beer at the bar, a threesome of friends in the booth nearest the door, and two younger men wearing gym vests that revealed their formidable biceps and forearms as they played darts at the furthest end of the bar, laughing loudly and obviously on their way to becoming completely inebriated.

"Listen." She said. "We can deal with all of that after this weekend. For now, I want you to focus on the funeral, and your family."

Blake swallowed hard. His sister and her family would be arriving tomorrow. He had almost forgotten about them. He nodded his head eventually.

"Okay. You're right. What would you like to eat?" he asked, picking up the menu and browsing through it.

"You choose for me." Jade said, sliding out of her seat. "I need to use the ladies room."

He watched her as she walked off towards the rest rooms, having to pass the two muscular darts players on the way. They blatantly gawked at her as she passed, one of them nudging the other with the elbow and saying something to him, after which they both laughed. The one turned to look at Blake, giving him an unflinching stare when he noticed that Blake was watching them. They continued with their game of darts, and Blake returned to the menu. He made his selection, choosing the chicken schnitzel with cheese sauce, chips and roasted vegetables, before calling the waiter over and placing their order. As the waiter left, Jade returned from the toilet, and Blake couldn't help but notice that one of the vest-clad men said something to her on her way over to the table, and that she replied briefly. As she sat down he frowned.

"What's their problem?" he asked.

"Those douche bags?" she waved them off. "They were raised by morons, that's their problem."

Blake chuckled. "Well, forget them. I've ordered us food and a couple more drinks, and you and I are going to just sit here and forget about the world for a couple of hours, if that's okay? No funeral talk, no FBI agent talk, no douche bag dart player talk."

Jade laughed. "Okay. That would be nice."

She steered the conversation over to Blake's past, and sat back and listened attentively as he told her about his childhood, his schooling and his family - particularly his sister. Jade wanted to know more about Nordika so that she would be prepared when she met her the next day. She laughed at most parts of Blake's tale, but was visibly moved by his description of the deep love that Sharon Turner had inflicted on her children, and she could see that talking about her had brought a slight glisten to Blake's eyes. She felt her heart twinge at the sight, at the vulnerability behind his handsome features, and she held his hand gently. By the time their food arrived they were so deep in conversation that the waiter had to physically clear his throat to announce his presence.

The food was delicious and they dug in with fervour. Blake was starved - he couldn't remember when last he had eaten anything that he actually remembered tasting. The conversation died down as they ate, replaced instead by long bashful stares into each other's eyes, a conversation without words, that in some strange way actually seemed to say more than the producing of sound could.

The waiter had just finished clearing away their plates and cutlery when Jade's cell phone rang. She picked it up, speaking briefly, then held her hand over the mouth piece.

"It's Marcelo. Do you mind if I take this quickly?"

Blake smiled. "Sure. I need the loo anyway."

He stood up and headed off towards the rest rooms. The two vested darts players were still busy with their game, and they both looked his way as he passed them, but Blake pretended not to notice and entered the rest room instead. He had just begun his business at one of the urinals when the door behind him swung open and one of the men entered the room, taking up position at the urinal alongside Blake's. He was large, standing head and shoulders above Blake, and he reeked of alcohol and sweat - an indication that he and his friend had spent most of their day in the pub.

"That's a hot chick you got there." The muscle man said, nodding his head back towards the door.

"Um, thanks?" Blake replied.

"Yeah, she's fucking hot." The man added, as Blake finished up, walking over to the washbasin to wash his hands. He followed Blake over to the basin, standing a few feet behind him. "I'd like to get my hands on that ass of hers."

"Excuse me?" Blake asked incredulously, turning around and glaring up at the man, shocked at his audacity.

"I'd like to pound that piece of flesh." the man chuckled, staring back down at Blake. "Why don't you bring her over and we can play some darts together?" He emphasised the word 'darts' with imaginary quotation marks, using his fingers.

The room was filled with an electric anticipation, the kind that preceded a fight, in Blake's experience. He was confident enough in his own abilities to at the very least defend himself against the man, but if his friend also joined in, he knew he was dead.

"You know, you really should learn some fucking manners." Blake said angrily, deciding that backing down was never going to be an option, and then started making his way towards the door, brushing past the drunk man.

"I'll teach you about manners, you fucking prick." Vestie, as Blake had nicknamed him, grabbed him by the arm and dragged him towards the nearest wall, slamming him hard into it. For a moment he was caught by surprise, but then he regained his composure and pushed back against the brute strength of his attacker. He was not surprised to discover that he hardly budged him at all. Vestie leaned in towards Blake's face now, a rancid-sour stench reeking off his body that almost had Blake retching. "And then I'll teach that little hottie of yours what it feels like to fuck a real man."

Hearing Jade being spoken about in that manner made Blake furious. He could feel the anger creeping up the back of his neck, and he was certain he was going to either end up in hospital or jail after tonight, with the former the more likely option, but he was not about to let this brute speak about his angel in that way!

"Is everything okay?"

The familiar voice came from the doorway, and Vestie turned in surprise, still holding Blake by the front of his shirt. Blake was startled to see Jade standing there. She was frowning angrily at the big man.

"Everything is fine, sweetheart. Go back to your table while I teach this wimp of yours a lesson."

"Leave him alone." She said calmly.

Vestie laughed. "Fuck off, bitch!"

Blake felt the fury build up again, and as if in response to his anger, a familiar sensation had begun forming in his stomach - the electro-warm fuzziness that had surprised him on that day that they had first met Road Rage Man. It greeted him like an old friend now, as if the intricate pathways of nerve endings in Blake's body were a familiar road to it, cruising easily through his body and heading straight for his hands, once again.

Both of Blake's hands were pressed up against the brute's rock hard chest, and as the tentacle-like sensation reached them, he felt himself projecting the source of that energy through his hands and into Vestie's chest. The reaction was almost identical to the reaction that Road Rage Man had had. Silence. Blank stare. Confusion. Semi-hypnotized almost. He immediately released Blake's arm and took a startled step backwards, frowning at the little man in front of him, and then looking down at his chest in confusion. Without saying a word, the man turned and left the bathroom, brushing absentmindedly past Jade on the way out, leaving Blake huffing and panting as he leaned against the wall, his heart pounding furiously. Jade approached him quickly.

"Are you okay?"

He took a moment to compose himself, rinsing his face off under the cold water of the basin, before he turned and nodded at her. He led her by the arm out of the restroom, and they caught a glimpse of Vestie where he had now taken up a seat at a nearby booth, while his friend called him to complete their game, but without response.

They took their seats at their booth again and Blake smiled weakly at Jade. "How is your drink?"

"I could do with another." She replied, smiling in return. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine." Blake said. "In fact, I'm better than fine. I've never felt so good in my life."

A confused expression crossed Jade's face for a moment, but before she could ask Blake what he meant, he headed off to the bar and ordered another round of drinks from the barman. He came back and handed Jade hers.

"Cheers."

"Cheers." She replied.

"Have I told you how beautiful you are yet?"

The question caught her by surprise, and she blushed. "Who, me?"

"You are, you know."

"Well, thank you."

Blake leaned in and kissed her then. It was sudden and unexpected, and probably spurred on by the adrenalin that still pumped through his veins, yet it felt like the right thing to do. It wasn't the gentle kiss that they had shared on his front porch a few days ago, it was more intense, more urgent, and filled with burning desire. Their tongues wrestled briefly, the sensation of it sending shivers down Blake's spine. After the longest moment they came apart, both breathless and hearts pounding.

"Wow." Jade whispered hoarsely.

"Wow." Blake smiled back, staring intently into her mesmerising eyes. "That was probably the most intense thing I've ever experienced."

He sat down on her side of the booth. Jade laced her fingers into his, rubbing the top of his hand with her thumb in slow lazy circles.

"Where have you been all my life?" she asked, a sadness just barely noticeable in the tone of her words.

"Right here." Blake replied. "And from here on out, where you go, I go, okay?"

Jade smiled. "Yes."

The sound of breaking glass startled them both, and they looked up in surprise as the two muscle-bound, and now completely wasted dart players made their way past their table. One of them, the one who had confronted Blake in the rest room earlier, was hanging onto his friend, who was trying valiantly to support his immense weight as they made their way to the door, ready to leave. In his efforts, he had accidentally knocked an empty ice-filled glass off a nearby table, sending it shattering to the floor and spewing ice and glass all over the place. Blake watched as they left, struggling through the narrow door like two epileptic dancers.

"That's going to be us in a couple of hours." Blake chuckled, raising his glass.

"You must be joking." Jade laughed. "I'm a very responsible drinker."

"Well, that's good news for me then." Blake smiled, digging in his pocket and tossing his car keys to Jade. "I get shotgun."

Jade's mouth dropped open in disbelief, and she slapped Blake on the arm.

"That's not fair. We should have at least drawn straws or something."

"You snooze, you lose."

"That will be the day. If there is one thing I..."

Her words were cut off as there was a screeching sound from outside, the type of sound that reminded one of long fingernails on a blackboard, the unmistakeable squeal of tyres on tar, followed shortly thereafter by the horrible crunching thud of metal impacting something and then the out of control roaring of a car engine in neutral, before it stalled. The sound had everybody leaping up from their seats and rushing through the front door, Blake and Jade following shortly behind. As they exited the bar and were met by the crisp cool air of the night beyond, Blake sucked in his breath and tightened his grip on Jade's hand at the sight that awaited them.

A car had somehow left the road and jumped the curb in front of the hotel at high speed, coming to rest with its crumpled nose in the flowerbed garden. The driver of the car had opened his door and stumbled out, an almost empty bottle of Vodka in his hand, staring in confusion at the smashed windscreen. He was bleeding from a cut on the head, and seemed oblivious to it as he made his way around the front of the car to look down at the two bodies lying on the pavement in front of his vehicle.

Two large men, muscular and wearing vests, once strong and obnoxious and alive, now only mangled versions of their previous selves, and dead beyond any doubt.

### Chapter 11

They paid for their meal and drinks and left before the police and ambulances arrived. With Idris Mdoda in the area, they did not want to draw any more attention to themselves than was necessary. As they drove home, Jade must have noticed that Blake was distracted in some way, as she punched him lightly on his arm.

"What's up?"

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"You haven't said a word the whole way home."

Blake shrugged. "I know, I'm sorry. It's... nothing."

"Bullshit." Jade exclaimed. "Did I do something wrong?"

"God no." Blake shook his head fervently, smiling at her. "You've done nothing. I don't know, maybe I'm just going crazy or something."

"What do you mean?"

Blake tried to formulate the words to explain how he was feeling, but he realised there was no rational way to express himself. Deciding to throw caution to the wind, he concluded that just telling her what had happened was going to be the only solution. He described the experience he had had with Vestie in the rest room, and how he believed he had projected a strange force through his own body and into the brute's. His words sounded childish and a lot like a lie, but he hoped that he was being sincere enough to convince her that he was telling the truth. To his surprise, Jade handled it rather well.

"That's really... interesting." She said after a moment. "Sort of paranormal, though. You don't think you were just imagining it?"

"No." Blake said. "It was real. I felt the tingling of those electrical charges running through my body - I felt them in my skin, on my hands and fingers."

"And then Vestie gets killed by a drunk driver? Coincidences happen every day."

"Yes they do. But not twice in one week."

"Twice?"

Blake sighed. "The same thing happened to me with Road Rage Man. When I was protecting you from him last week, and when I touched him."

Jade frowned. "And then he died too."

"Yes." Blake replied. "The same thing that happened to Vestie. That's not coincidence. Right?"

"It's certainly unusual." Jade said. "So what do you think it is? Some sort of paranormal occurrence? A super-power, even?"

Blake laughed now. "Yes, I'm Karma Man. Fuck with me and I'll throw a truck or a car at you. I don't know, Jade. But I can tell you it freaks me out."

They arrived at Jade's house a few minutes later, parking the car in the driveway and making their way inside. Marcelo was sitting in the living room on his favourite Lazy-boy chair, watching the Discovery channel on DSTV. He looked their way briefly, grunted something, and then turned his attention back to the show. They ignored him as they headed for the kitchen, where Jade prepared three cups of coffee. She took Marcelo's coffee to him, before returning and placing Blake's cup in front of him where he sat at the kitchen table.

"Do you think this makes me a murderer?" Blake asked, a serious tone to his voice.

Jade put her hand over his. "Don't be silly. You weren't driving either the truck or the car that killed those men. You didn't even know them. Stop obsessing about it, and take it as it is... a healthy dose of natural karma in the world – a freaky coincidence. Both guys were jerks, right?"

"That doesn't mean they deserved to die."

"Still, you can't deny the world's a better place now."

Blake sipped his coffee, closing his eyes and savouring the hot bitterness of it as he contemplated her words.

"What time is your sister arriving tomorrow?" Jade asked, trying to change the topic.

"Around lunch time, I guess. They've booked into a bed and breakfast here in Gonubie."

"I can't wait to meet them."

Blake smiled. "You're going to love my sister. She's a real character. I have to warn you though, she was never one for pulling back punches. She says what she wants to say, regardless of whether it may be appropriate or not. It's as if the filter between her brain and her mouth is missing."

"Then I'm sure we'll get along fine." Jade chuckled. "I've always believed in calling a spade a spade." She paused for a moment. "What does that even mean, anyway? What else would you call a spade?"

"A shovel?"

"Well, technically it's a different tool, right? I mean, shovels are deep while spades are flat? So a spade is a spade. It can't be a shovel, or anything else."

"Holy crap. You really do come up with some strange thoughts, you know that?"

Jade giggled now. "A spade by any other name is still a spade..."

"Deep."

"No... Shovels are deep. Spades are flat."

"Oh my God."

Jade was doubled over with laughter now, and Blake couldn't help but smile at the way the sound seemed to come from deep within her, uncontrollable and beautiful, and how she managed to dissolve his worries and fears with it. They were both startled though by a banging sound, and spun around to see Marcelo at the kitchen sink, where he had slammed his empty coffee cup down unceremoniously, obviously not impressed with them.

"Hey." Jade chuckled. "What's the matter, grumpy?"

"It's late." Marcelo said. "You two should get to bed."

Blake and Jade looked at each other, and started laughing again.

"I meant to your own beds." Marcelo added uncomfortably, which only made them laugh harder. He muttered something under his breath and then left the kitchen and they heard him close and lock his bedroom door.

"He's right." Jade snickered finally, wiping the tears from her eyes. "It is late, and you have a big day tomorrow, with your sister arriving and all."

"Yep." Blake sighed. "I guess so." He stood up and placed his cup in the sink alongside Marcelo's, and as he turned he found Jade standing close to him, almost pressing up against him.

"Sleep tight." She said softly, a huskiness to her voice now.

"You too."

They leaned towards each other simultaneously, their lips met and the kiss was electrifying once again. Their arms found each other naturally, and they were soon locked in a passionate embrace. It seemed neither one wanted to end the kiss, and it continued for what seemed an eternity, until eventually Jade forced herself away. She was breathing heavily, panting almost, and her cheeks were flushed. She gave Blake one last lingering look before she turned happily and scuttled off to her bedroom, leaving him standing breathlessly against the kitchen sink, trying, impossibly, to wipe the smile off his face as he watched her go.

He finally turned and washed their cups, placing them in the dish rack to dry, before he switched off the lights and headed off to his darkened room, closing the door behind him. After slipping off his clothes, he climbed into bed and lay with his arms behind his head, staring up at the ceiling. He found it difficult to switch his mind off, found himself thinking about everything that had happened to him over the past few days, trying to imagine how his life had gone from predictable to... to this. He was in a strange new house, with a strange woman and her even stranger father, and all sorts of strange things had been happening lately. Five days ago his mother had still been alive, he had been content with his daily routine, even his crappy boss, yet now it seemed as if he was destined for something more... as if his purpose in life had only now been discovered, and every cell of his being was dancing at the thought of what was to come.

What was that exactly? Perhaps it was the not knowing that had him so hyped up - the mystery of it all, the thrill of the unknown...

He had almost drifted off to sleep when he heard the creaking sound. It had him snapping his eyes wide open, and his heart started racing in his chest. It was late enough that the streets were deserted outside, quiet enough so that any sounds inside the house were amplified. He had slept in this same room for four nights now, and he had become accustomed to the usual night noises, but he had never heard the creak before, and it had set off alarm bells in his mind. After his discussion earlier this evening with Marcelo and Jade about their past, and the mad man that hunted them, Blake wasn't about to take any chances. Idris Mdoda would come for them, and that was an undeniable fact. The question was just, when?

The sound came again, this time closer than before, and Blake was certain it had come from the hallway directly outside his room. He slowly got out of the bed and crept towards the closed bedroom door, wincing at every tiny squeak that his bare feet made on the polished wooden floors. When he reached the door he placed his ear against it, trying to allow his ears to give him a picture of what was happening out there, of who was sneaking through the house. He could swear he heard breathing, but it was so muffled and distant that he couldn't be sure if it was just his imagination or not. The slightest thump against the door from the other side made him jolt in surprise, and he had to concentrate hard not to gasp out loud. As he watched, the round knob on the bedroom door moved ever so slightly, as if someone on the other side had placed their hand on it, and was about to twist it open. He braced himself for the inevitable attack that threatened to come, moving to the side away from the door, ready to pounce on the intruder while the element of surprise was in his favour.

The door knob twisted then, slowly at first, the metal spring works inside of it protesting quietly against the applied pressure. As the knob reached its turning peak, the door started swinging open slowly, a small gap at first, but widening steadily. Blake had placed his back against the wall to the left of the door, trying to hide himself from sight. As the door opened further, a shadowy figure entered the room in the darkness. Blake's heart was pounding furiously against his chest, and he was trying not to breathe. As the figure passed his hiding place, he lunged forward and grabbed it around the shoulders from behind. It struggled furiously at first, letting out a surprised quiet yelp, and Blake found himself grunting now, as he directed the surprised attacker towards the bed, before the height of it caught them by the knees and then they were both on top of it. Blake had twisted the intruder around as they fell, and raised his fist above his shoulder, about to punch downwards with all his might, when they shouted out in an urgent whisper.

"Blake. It's me!"

Blake widened his eyes in surprise at the voice.

"Jade?" he hissed, gasping in surprise.

She leant upwards on her elbows now, her features coming into sight in the dim light of the moon through the window, and she smiled ridiculously up at him.

"What the fuck?" Blake gasped. "I could have killed you."

Jade chuckled, whispering, "You're so funny."

"I'm serious."

As if suddenly realising the position they were in, Blake started climbing off of Jade's prone body, but to his surprise she clasped him around the neck with one hand.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"What are you doing?" he asked, surprised.

"I... missed you." She whispered.

"I saw you ten minutes ago."

"It felt like a week."

Blake's heart was pounding even louder than it had when he had been expecting a gun-wielding commando to come through that door a few moments ago. He couldn't help but notice the warm sensation of Jade's body pressed beneath his, the unmistakeable bulge of her full, soft breasts against his chest, the way her one leg had now curled up over his and the naked silkiness of it against his skin as she moved it gently over his calf.

"God, you're so beautiful." He whispered, moving a lock of hair away from her eyes and tucking it in behind her ear. They sparkling back at him mischievously.

"Make love to me." She said softly then, an urgency to her voice that he had not heard before.

"What about your father?"

"You can make love to him later."

Blake smiled down at her. "You're a dork, you know that, right?"

"I'm not the one obsessing over a girl's father right now, while she is practically naked and begging you to ravage her." She whispered.

"Are you sure?"

In reply she kissed him, and there was sensuality to it this time that left no doubts in Blake's mind about what she wanted right then. He found his reserve melting away, as he felt his body metaphorically melting into hers, while somewhere in what must have been another universe, two souls were colliding and in the process becoming one.

It was a beautiful, unstoppable moment.

### Chapter 12

That night with Jade was not something that Blake would soon forget. Amidst the turmoil of the next few days, with the arrival of his sister and her family from Rustenburg, the funeral on Saturday, the pain and the grief that seemed to be all around him all the time, she was there - supporting him and keeping him strong. When he reunited awkwardly with his sister on Friday, Jade was at his side. When he felt himself choking back the tears as Sharon Turner's coffin was wheeled through the doors of the Crematorium, it was her hand in his that kept him strong. Even as the pastor spoke those words that were meant to comfort, yet would never be able to, it was the comforting sensation of her head on his shoulder that reminded Blake that he was not completely alone. Blake was surprised at the turnout. There were distant family members and friends of Sharon's that he had not seen in years, each one holding on to the memory of the woman that had once touched their lives in one amazing way or another. There were tears and sobs, and sad organ music accompanied this macabre symphony of sadness. Blake sat stoic throughout, staring ahead at the cold polished wood of the coffin, covered in beautiful flowers that attempted to disguise the icy finality of the moment. Sharon Turner's body lay in that box, but Blake had to believe that the essence of who she once was had filled the air around them instead, that they breathed the joy of her life in with every breath they took. It was a small comfort, and it made watching the coffin, as it slid slowly through the small doors of the fake furnace later, almost bearable. Blake couldn't cry. Not that he did not want to. This was the woman whom he had loved for his entire life, who had shaped and guided him every step of the way. She was gone forever, and yet he could not shed a tear despite the utter heartbreak he felt inside.

Jade would help him understand this later. When they were curled in each other's arms that night, as she traced slow circles across his chest, she described the emotions she had felt when she had lost her own mother at a young age. How it had felt as if she would never survive another day, as if her heart would never heal. But that it did. And that the tears that would finally come, when they were ready, would be the catalyst to that healing. Losing his mother and finding Jade when he did, seemed so strange, so destined. It was karma of the universe, how life seemed to balance out. Doors closing and windows opening. Her impact on him was immeasurable. They found it difficult not to be around each other for any extended periods of time - always seemingly drawn back towards each other when separated, like human magnets. Blake attributed this to more than just the fact that they had made love. The intensity of the attraction they felt for each other ran deeper than anything purely physical. It was as if their very souls were carved from the same tree - as if they were genetically formed from the same strands of matter. It was a sensation that he had never before experienced, with anyone, and the strength of that bond not only excited, but frightened him as well. And in his saddest moment, it kept him breathing.

Sunday morning arrived unexpectedly, and it was greeted with apprehension, as Blake found himself once again saying goodbye to Nordika and her family. Their visit had been too short, and it had been under unfortunate circumstances. They made promises to each other that they would endeavour to see each other more often, no matter what. Before they drove off, Nordika pulled Blake aside.

"Is everything okay?" she asked.

Blake frowned. "Yes, of course - well, considering... you know."

"I'm not talking about Mom." She added. "I mean with you... with your life."

"I think it is, actually."

"You just seem a little edgy, that's all..."

"It's nothing to worry about." Blake smiled. "The funeral is over. Things can go back to some kind of normal again."

"And work?"

"I'm going back tomorrow. But I'm resigning. It's time for a change."

"Are you sure that's the right thing to do?"

Blake nodded. "Yes. I'm sure."

"She's really wonderful, you know that, right?"

"Who?"

"Jade."

"Oh." Blake chuckled, surprised to find himself blushing. "Yes. Yes she is."

Nordika pulled him close and hugged him hard, and it immediately brought back so many memories of their childhood together, of the bond they shared through the years growing up in the Turner household. Blake closed his eyes as he held his sister, swaying her back and forth gently.

"Mom would be proud. Make sure she looks after you." Nordika said eventually, pulling herself away, tears glistening in her eyes.

"Thank you, sis. I will. And we'll visit, I promise."

Nordika hugged Jade briefly as she made her way back to the car, before she climbed in and they drove off out of sight towards the highway, leaving Blake staring after them as they disappeared down Main Road. Jade appeared next to him and slipped the fingers of her hand through his.

"She's really wonderful, your sister."

Blake smiled. "That's what she said about you."

Jade beamed with delight. "Really?"

Blake led her off towards the car, opening the door for her as they reached it. Before he closed it, he hunkered down on his haunches beside her, at eye level.

"It's exactly a week today." He said sadly. "And all that's left of my mother are the memories I have of her and a couple of photographs. It's so strange..."

Jade brushed her fingers gently across his cheek. "You'll always have the memories. They will never go away or fade or be lost."

"What happens now?" Blake sighed. "Everything is different, you know?"

"Think of it as a new opportunity in your life - a new day - a fresh start."

"I don't know where to begin. I mean, there's my job and my ridiculous boss, there's the house that will always remind me of what happened there, there's you and your father - and this dangerous man that I somehow led back into your lives. It's as if everything has spiralled out of control for me, and I'm not quite sure how to stop everything from spinning."

Jade lifted his head to look him in the eye. "Don't you dare blame yourself for Idris finding us again. It's not your fault. He did that all on his own."

"Maybe if I had been more careful, paid more attention..."

"Blake." Jade halted him mid-speech. "It was inevitable. Trust me. Men like Idris are like dogs that refuse to let go of the bone. If anything, it's me that should be apologizing. Bringing Idris into your life is the reason your mother is dead. If you want to blame anyone, blame me."

Blake shook his head fervently. "No. No way. You are the best thing that ever happened to me, and I don't think I would have made it through this week without you at my side. Instead of us blaming ourselves for what happened, let's remember what or who the common denominator is. Idris Mdoda. You've been through this before, what happens next where he is concerned?"

"In all likelihood he will show himself as soon as his Cleaners arrive."

"How long does that take?"

"I'm not sure. We usually only discover that he has found us again when they are already there. This is the first time we've had a bit of fair warning. His first mistake, really."

"Well then we have that on our side. He doesn't realise that we are expecting him. We need to use that to our advantage. Prepare for it. As you said, he thinks you're going to pack up and run again. Well, not this time."

"What you're suggesting is crazy." Jade muttered. "And in any case, I wouldn't be able to forgive myself if something happened to you. This is between my father, myself and Idris Mdoda. It's our war."

"Forget it." Blake said angrily. "I told you, the second he took the decision to slit my mother's throat, he included me in the picture. Get used to the fact that I'm not going anywhere."

"Fuck, you're so sexy when you're angry." Jade said softly, and then laughed as Blake frowned, temporarily thrown off guard.

"I... what?"

"Let's get out of here." She smiled. "It's a beautiful Sunday morning. Your family has gone, the funeral is over. There is nothing else to worry about right this very moment, except about each other. Take me home. Make love to me again. Please?"

"God, how do you do that?"

"Do what?"

"How do you manage to distract me so easily? I'm busy planning a defensive strategy against trained killers who could appear at any moment, and you're thinking about making love?"

"Right now, it's what I want to do."

"You're incredible."

"Thank you."

"It wasn't entirely a compliment."

"I know."

They stared at each other for a moment, neither one wanting to avert their gaze, until finally Blake stood up and closed the car door.

"Fine. You win."

He made his way around to the driver's side, started the car, and then drove away from the Bed and Breakfast where his sister had been staying. It was a short trip down Main Road before the intersection that led off towards the house on Ninth Avenue. He pulled into the parking lot of a small corner cafe and liquor store, much to Jade's agitation.

"What are you doing here?"

"I need a bottle of wine."

"Why?"

He leaned in to the window as he closed the door. "Because it's been a pretty crappy week, and my last happy memory of her was you and she laughing over a glass of wine. I thought it would be a nice touch for later."

Jade smiled. "Okay. Make sure it's a Chianti, then."

The store was owned and run by the same family that had opened it more than twenty years ago. Blake knew them by name and he greeted the older lady behind the cashier's counter as he entered. He made his way directly to the wine section, searching carefully for the right flavour, before making his way to the front again. He placed the bottle on the counter, removing his wallet to pay.

"It's a lovely choice." Maria Marshall smiled as she placed the bottle in a plastic bag. "I'm so sorry to hear about Sharon." She added. "She was a wonderful woman!"

"Thank you." Blake smiled. "That's very kind of you."

The tiny bell over the door jingled as an elderly woman entered, shuffling over to the counter and nodding at the owner.

"Good morning, Mrs Thompson." The owner greeted the old lady, who was obviously a regular.

In response, Mrs Thompson held out a worn twenty Rand note, indicating the small display of Lotto scratch cards on the counter in front of her.

"Let me just finish with this gentleman, then I will be with you, okay?"

"No, it's fine." Blake replied. "Please, help her first."

The old woman, who, judging by the state of her clothes and hair was obviously very poor, grinned toothlessly at Blake and reached out her liver-spotted hands towards him in gratitude. Blake took it in his, smiling.

What happened next was hard to explain, and Blake would later wonder if he hadn't simply imagined it. As their hands met, it was as if Blake's mind was ripped backwards through a dark tunnel at immense speed. The image of the store, and the old lady, reduced to a tiny light at the end of this tunnel, and replaced instead by a smoky swirl of black and white images that quickly formulated themselves into what Blake could only compare to an old silent movie from the forties, replayed in fast motion. He saw flashes of the old woman's life, from images of a young girl as she played in the wheat fields of a farm in England, to a wedding dress and a horse-drawn carriage, and then the moments of childbirth as her children were born. There were guns and bombs and fiery explosions, familiar images of an almost forgotten war, the unmistakeable insignia of Nazi Germany, and thereafter the horror of the holocaust from a Jewish prisoner of war's perspective. The beautiful woman in the wedding dress was replaced by a skeletal version of herself in what must have been a German POW camp - dirty, underfed, and broken. There were coffins then. Lots of them. Her mother's, father's, husband's, and more terrifyingly – her children's! So many tears. So much heartache! Finally there were images of a ship that travelled south towards Africa, of Cape Town in the sixties, of a country still so young and beautiful. And then the rest of a broken life, lived out in solitude, surrounded by cats and other stray animals. At the end there were the lonely visions of a small, cheaply furnished room and bare cupboards and a front door that never saw any visitors - and ultimately a lonely funeral as a cheap coffin was lowered into the ground, witnessed only by a priest and a handful of others.

The tunnel disappeared as instantly as it had arrived, and Blake realised that the eighty year journey he had just taken had only consumed a few split seconds of this moment in reality. He was still holding her tiny hand, cold and wrinkled. Summoning the strange tentacles from within himself seemed too easy this time. They rushed through his body readily, sending their warmth through his arms, into his hands, into hers. Her eyes seemed to glaze over for an instant, and then the tentacle sensation retracted, and she blinked rapidly a few times.

"What can I get for you?" Maria asked from the opposite side of the counter, apparently unaware about what had just occurred between them in those few micro-seconds.

"Give me four Lucky Rabbits." The old Mrs Thompson smiled, as she released Blake's hand and turned towards the counter.

"Is this your last twenty again?" the concerned shopkeeper frowned down at the little old lady.

"I'm feeling lucky today."

"You always are." Maria chuckled. "Okay. It's your money."

She removed four tickets from the roll of Lotto scratch cards in the display, tearing them off and handing them over to the old lady, who nodded in gratitude and then shuffled over to a counter near the door and proceeded to use her cracked fingernails to scratch the silver coating from her cards, trying to match up the rabbit's foot images to win a prize.

Blake paid for his wine, and was about to leave when there was a stifled cry from the old lady at the door, and he paused. She hurriedly approached the counter and lay a ticket down in front of Maria.

"I think I won." She croaked.

"Let me see." Maria took the ticket and examined it closely. She smiled broadly after a moment. "You did win, Mrs Thompson."

"Three carrots!" the old lady beamed up at Blake, who nodded ridiculously.

"That's two hundred Rand." Maria exclaimed, as she studied the back of the card carefully. "Wow, Mrs Thompson. Congratulations!"

The old lady nodded happily, placing a second card on the counter and proceeding to scratch the foil off. The images beneath were revealed, and the old lady sucked in her breath and then took a surprised step backwards, holding the card up and shaking her head.

"Three rabbit holes."

"What?" Maria said, astounded as the old woman handed her the second card. "That's one thousand five hundred Rand. Two in a row!"

Mrs Thompson wasted no time in scratching the other two cards, and it was the almost hypnotic gaze she had when she finally lifted her head to look at the two of them that told the story. She placed the two cards carefully on the counter in front of Maria, her liver-spotted hands trembling furiously.

"I knew it would come one day." The old lady smiled. "I knew it would come."

"What is it?" Blake asked.

Maria lifted the cards up and her eyes widened. "Three rabbits feet. On both cards. That's a total of one hundred thousand rand."

"Congratulations." Blake smiled, as he greeted Maria and the old woman. As he turned he leaned in towards Mrs. Thompson, being careful not to touch her again. "You deserve a lot more."

Both women stared at him in confusion as he headed for the door, his last statement hanging in the air between them as if he had just sprayed a whiff of some intoxicating deodorant.

He couldn't explain the emotion he was feeling as the door swung shut behind him, he couldn't explain the utter peace he felt within his soul at that moment, and within three seconds of leaving the store, he couldn't quite remember why he was feeling that way, but all he knew was that he suddenly felt really good.

### Chapter 13

They parked in the driveway of Jade's house a few minutes later. She had been curious about why Blake had been in such a good mood after leaving the liquor store, and he had shrugged off her probing, as he really did not know what she was talking about. All he knew was that he was in high spirits, and did it really matter why? She had accepted his explanation finally, and by the time they were heading up the stairs to the front door, she had changed the subject.

"What are you going to do with your house?" she asked, as they entered the living room.

"I'm not sure." Blake replied. "I guess I'll sell it."

"That's such a pity." Jade sighed. "It's such a beautiful home."

"It will never feel like home for me, ever again." Blake said.

"Why not just keep it, and rent it out?"

Blake shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe, but I'll think about it."

Marcelo was in the kitchen when they reached it, sitting at the kitchen table with a more solemn than usual look on his face. He was holding a plain white envelope in his hands.

"What's that?" Jade asked.

"We need to talk." He said, and after glancing briefly at Blake, added "Alone."

"Whatever it is, you can speak in front of..."

"Jade." Marcelo slammed his hands on the kitchen table suddenly, startling them both. "Alone!"

Jade turned to Blake, shrugging her shoulders, a sheepish look on her face.

"Do you mind?"

"Of course not." Blake replied, although he was curious to know what could be so important that he was not allowed to hear. "I was going to head on over to my place anyway. I need to pick up a few things for work tomorrow, you know - clothes and stuff."

Jade nodded. "Okay. Hurry back."

He leaned in and kissed her on the forehead, before staring coldly at Marcelo and then turning and heading out the front door. As he started the car and reversed out the driveway, he couldn't stop his mind from spinning with all sorts of theories around the white envelope that Marcelo had been holding. What had been so important about it? Why did he seem so tense? What was Jade's role in all of this? The curiosity was driving him crazy, and he had to force himself to stop obsessing over it. If it was really important, Jade would tell him later anyway. He was certain of it.

Turning into Ocean View Drive filled him with bitter sweet familiarity. Seeing the house again for the first time in a week sent icy chills down his spine, despite the warm sunshine of the day. He parked in his usual spot on the driveway, unwilling to switch the engine off and climb out, considering the option of just leaving instead. He could always buy new work clothes and shoes. He could do that...

Stop being silly, he told himself. It's just a house.

He finally killed the engine and climbed out. He made his way quickly to the door, afraid that if he hesitated for even a moment he would change his mind. There was red and white police tape across the front door, and he tore it off as he fumbled for the key on his set, unlocking the front door and pushing it open hurriedly. He stood there for a second, staring into the semi-darkness of the interior, his feet frozen in place on the front porch. He finally took a deep breath before stepping forward and into the house.

It smelt funny. It was the first thing he noticed - a kind of musky, stale scent that seemed to have permeated into the floors and walls and furniture. It was partially attributed to the fact that the house had been closed up for seven days, he knew that, but there was an underlying scent - the scent of congealed blood, he assumed - that added to the muskiness. Not just any blood. Her blood.

He felt his stomach churn at the thought. The last thing he wanted to do right now was throw up. He closed his eyes instead, willing himself to ignore the stench, to concentrate on something else - anything else. He pictured Jade's face in his mind, and it had the desired effect, almost immediately. He felt the nausea dissipate, felt the sensory abilities of his nose fade into the background, felt his heart steady. When he opened his eyes again, he made his way through the living room and kitchen, down the hall towards his bedroom. He made a point of looking the other way as he passed the open door of his dead mother's bedroom. He grabbed an empty suitcase from underneath his bed, opening it up and tossing an assortment of clothing from his closet into it. He was hardly concerned that the clothes were going to crease, he would iron them later. Right now he just needed to get out of the house. He removed a plastic folder from his bedside drawer. It contained important documents - his government Identity book, passport, original copies of his high school and college diplomas, and other certificates he'd received through the years while working at Boucher Vault and Safe. He tossed the folder on top of his clothes, before zipping the suitcase closed.

As he made his way back through the house towards the front door, he controlled the urge to start running. It was a weird sensation. There was nothing to be afraid of here, yet he couldn't shake the feeling that something was behind him constantly - some dark presence that breathed down the back of his neck, whispering demonic words that he could not hear. By the time he reached the front door and slammed it shut behind him, he found himself gasping for air, realising then that he had been holding his breath for some time. He felt his knees go weak for a moment, and he had to steady himself on the small railing that ran along the front porch. The fresh air outside, smacking of the ocean, seemed to help, and he felt himself regaining composure after a few moments.

As he pulled away from the house finally, catching a brief glimpse of it in his rear view mirror, he knew it would be the last time he would ever set foot in it again. He would sell it - furniture and all. The sooner the better. There was nothing left for him there anymore, and any good memories of his mother would be ruined by the one bad one. It was a chapter completed, a book closed.

Strangely, even as he drove towards Jade's house he felt his mood changing again. The darkness that had accompanied him was lifting, as if a sheet had been pulled from his mind, dust flying everywhere. The bad vibes were replaced by happy emotion, and by the time he was parking in her driveway, he felt normal, or close to it. He knew it had nothing to do with the actual house, but that it was merely the subconscious effect she had on him these days - the way she seemed to light up a room when she entered, or the way the sound of her laughter seemed to ring in his ears for days afterwards. She was an angel to him. Pure and bright and shining. The silver lining of his dark cloud.

As he opened the front door and stepped inside, he found himself yearning to see her. He had been gone for less than half an hour, yet it felt like days. He was smiling and about to call out her name as he made his way down the hall towards the kitchen, when the figure of a man stepped unexpectedly out of a nearby bedroom and blocked his path. The confusion took a split second to wear off, before it was replaced with heart pounding fear!

"Hello, Blake."

The familiar American twang amidst the South African undertone of his voice had Blake taking a startled step backwards.

"You." he gasped.

"I'm sorry if I startled you."

He was smiling. The tall African American flashed his white teeth at Blake as if they were old friends who had bumped into each other again after several years. But there was darkness in that smile, a menace that reached out and taunted Blake. For a moment he pictured the blade of a knife as it sliced through his mother's throat, spilling out that precious blood that would later congeal and rot and stink up the place he used to call home – a blade held by this lunatic!

"You killed my mother." Blake hissed, dropping the suitcase he was carrying, and it made a dull thud on the carpeted hallway.

"Unfortunate, I know." Idris Mdoda smiled again. "But in a war, there are always casualties."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Blake asked angrily. "War? She had nothing to do with you and your imagined war."

"It was the only way I could get the Vega's attention." Idris shrugged, as if they were talking about him spilling a cup of coffee instead of murder. "Smoke them out, if you know what I mean? I need to thank you for that, by the way."

Blake felt absolute fury build up inside of him, and a rage he had never before experienced started taking over. He lunged forward towards the tall, smug man, and if he had been able to reach his throat in time he would have strangled the life out of him for what he had done to Sharon, but before he got that far he found himself facing the barrel of a pistol, pointed squarely between his eyes.

"Take it easy." Idris said calmly "Unless you want to end up like your mother?"

Blake froze at the sight of the gun, his nostrils flaring as he breathed angrily through them. He was staring Idris directly in the eye, trying to find the slightest hint that he would hesitate in pulling the trigger, but all he found was a cold, icy glare that left him with no doubts that he was dealing with an insane person, one who wouldn't think twice about putting a bullet in his head.

"Why are you doing this?" Blake asked. "Why are you hunting these people down, destroying the lives of people they know? What's your motivation? I don't understand."

"My motivation?" Idris laughed now, an ugly cackle that lacked any sincerity. "You have absolutely no idea how motivated I am."

"Leave them alone." Blake said. "Just leave them alone. Please, I'm begging you. Whatever it is that you think they've done, its ancient history. Move on."

"That's very sweet. And an ironic choice of words, I might add."

"I'm serious, man."

"Well, I'm touched. But in all honesty, it's too late."

"What do you mean?"

As if in reply, two figures appeared from the kitchen area, catching Blake's attention. He recognized Jade instantly. Her hands were tied behind her back, and she was being held roughly around the neck by the man behind her. He was bulky, bald and sporting a thick goatee, wearing a black outfit, fully fitted with a combat vest, bullet proof jacket and holding an AK-47 in his other hand.

"Jade." Blake cried out, stepping towards them, but halted once again as Idris Mdoda waved his pistol from side to side.

"We have to go, sir." The black-clad man said, restraining Jade easily as she tried weakly to wrestle free of his grasp.

"Where are you taking her?" Blake yelled angrily at Idris.

Idris waved his colleague away, and he disappeared back into the kitchen with Jade in tow. Just before Blake lost sight of her completely he caught a glimpse of her eyes, and the sadness and defeat that filled them.

Idris removed a cell phone from his pocket, dialling a number with his free hand, while the other still pointed the gun at Blake. He put the phone to his ear.

"Mr. White." He said, when the person on the other end answered. "I have good news. We have them. Yes. We'll see you in a few days."

He ended the call and slipped the phone back in his pocket. "Well." he said, smiling. "I think we're all set to go. It really has been a pleasure, Mr. Turner. I wish we had more time to get to know each other, but I have places to be, things to do, if you know what I mean."

"This is wrong." Blake cried desperately. "You can't just walk into someone's house and take them away. You need a warrant. You need the authority. What you're doing is illegal. Who is this Mr. White? Let me speak to him..."

Idris chuckled. "I'm afraid we're way beyond all of that."

"Please." Blake was begging now. "You don't understand. Let me try and help you figure this out. I know this girl... I know her better than I know myself."

Idris chuckled. "You've developed feelings for her, haven't you? Oh my God, you have no idea what you've got yourself into. Let me give you one little piece of advice, if that's okay? Whatever you think you know about these people, it's wrong. Nothing they will ever tell you is the truth. However you think you're feeling right now, it's not real. There is only one thing that you really need to be focusing on, and that is getting as far away from them as you possibly can. Trust me, Blake. I'm doing you a huge favour here. I don't often do favours for people, but I like you. You remind me a bit of myself when I was your age."

"Don't flatter yourself. I'm nothing like you. And what favour do you think you are doing for me, exactly?"

"Just this." Idris replied, as he suddenly swung his pistol around with a speed that caught Blake by surprise, the butt of it connecting him squarely on the temple, and sending him sprawling backwards onto the floor. Tiny stars danced in front of his vision for a moment, before the darkness crept in from the sides. The last thing he saw from his distorted view of the hallway floor was the booted foot of Idris Mdoda as he stepped over his body.

### Chapter 14

When Blake came to he was disoriented. His head pounded fiercely, and he had trouble sitting up immediately. Instead he lay on the floor for a moment, staring up at the criss-crossing pattern on the ceiling, waiting for the throbbing in his skull to subside. By the time he could finally sit upright he took the time to examine the side of his head gingerly, checking his fingers for blood, and relieved to find none. Idris Mdoda had obviously timed his blow perfectly, a result of years of experience, Blake assumed. He got up from the floor slowly and made his way down the hallway to the kitchen. The first thing he noticed was that the back door of the house had been kicked in from the outside, and this must have been how they had managed to surprise Jade and Marcelo. The kitchen was in disarray, broken plates and cups, overturned furniture. Blake couldn't help but wonder what might have happened if he had chosen to stay there instead of going over to his own house earlier. Would he have been able to stop these men from taking Jade and her father? Or would he have been shot down instead?

He had to wonder why Idris Mdoda had not just killed him when he had the chance. From what Jade had told him about the man, he was ruthless and unstable, willing to stop at nothing to capture the two of them. He had not hesitated in slitting Sharon's throat a week ago, yet he had let Blake live today. This was really confusing to him. It made no sense that he would leave a witness to the kidnapping, assuming that Blake would do whatever he could to save Jade. If he was as ruthless as they claimed, why was he still breathing? And who was the mysterious Mr. White that Idris had spoken to on the phone? These questions bounced around Blake's mind, doing nothing but aggravating the pounding headache he had developed. He opened a few cupboards, relieved to find a bottle of Panado's in one of them. He shook out two of the small white headache pills and then poured himself a glass of water from the tap, swallowing it all in one go.

Blake reached into his pocket for his cell phone, taking it out and dialling Jade's number. He knew it was a long shot, but he needed to try at least. Jade's phone went directly to voicemail. He tossed his phone aside, before turning and looking around the kitchen. He tried to decide what he should do next. He couldn't call the police. Jade and Marcelo were illegal immigrants, and they would not want the police involved in any of this. Besides, who would believe him? A group of mercenaries had kicked in the back door and kidnapped his girlfriend and her father in broad daylight? Yes. That didn't sound crazy at all. Even if he tried speaking to Detective Malherbe he doubted that he would be able to convince the man of the truth. The authorities were not going to be an option right now - not until he had some hard evidence that could protect the woman he loved, and put the madman who had taken her, away for good.

The feeling of helplessness he was experiencing right now was really frustrating. The woman he loved, yes... loved, had been taken by Idris and his Cleaners to some unknown location, where God only knew what was going to be done to her. He had nobody he could call, nobody he could ask for help, and nobody who would believe him anyway. Idris and his men were trained killers, while Blake was just an engineer. How could he ever expect to see her again?

The thought sent a chill down his spine. She was the first woman in his entire life that had managed to completely capture his heart. He had known her for little more than a week, and now she was gone. Taken. He was surprised to find anger replacing the helplessness. He was not about to sit by idly and do nothing.

What are you going to do, then?

The question hung in the air around him, taunting him as if it knew he would not have the answer.

What would an engineer do?

An engineer would apply scientific knowledge, mathematics and ingenuity to solving a technical problem. At least, that's what Wikipedia would say. Blake's definition was a lot simpler. An engineer would sort shit out. That's what he needed to do. He needed to sort shit out. He needed to find out where Idris had taken Jade and her father, and he needed to work out how he was going to get them back. There was nothing more important right now.

His eye caught a familiar shape lying on the floor under the kitchen table, amongst the broken crockery and overturned chairs. It was small and white, and he recognised it instantly as the envelope that Marcelo had been holding when he and Jade had returned from greeting his sister and her family earlier. He had appeared to be quite upset by its contents, enough so that he had insisted on speaking to Jade alone about it. Blake reached down and picked it up, flipping one of the chairs back onto its legs and taking a seat at the table. There was a small drop of drying blood on the front of the envelope, and Blake shuddered at the thought that Jade may have been bleeding at some point. He opened the envelope and removed the single page of typed paper inside, folding it open.

The only thing typed up on the page was a simple series of numbers that made no sense at all to Blake.

-45.43685

-21.55607

He tried all sorts of mathematical calculations in his mind, trying to decipher the meaning of the numbers, but he kept coming up with random answers that did little to shed any light on why the message had seemed so upsetting to Marcelo. He had seen similar numbers used in the operating codes of electronic safes at work before, and he had to wonder if that's not what they were for, but he couldn't be certain of anything. Blake gave up eventually, folding the paper and shoving it into his pocket. He stood up and surveyed the kitchen, looking for any clues that might tell him where Idris had taken his friends. After coming up empty handed he moved through the rest of the house, checking Jade's bedroom first.

He couldn't help but pause at the doorway as he caught a whiff of her perfume where it lingered in the room. Breathing it in only made him miss her more. He went through her dresser drawers, tossing out the usual items - hairdryer, hair clips, women's fashion magazines, till slips from local clothing stores, receipts from the suppliers of her raw products for her candle making business. There was nothing unusual about anything that he found in either her drawers or her cupboards, and by the time he had finished he was still no closer to finding anything useful. One thing that struck him as unusual though, was that there was not a single photograph of either Jade or her father anywhere in her room. No albums, frames or even an old shoebox full of old Polaroid's as one would expect to find in any person's personal belongings. He brushed it aside as he moved on to Marcelo's room. The reclusive man had always kept his door locked, and Blake was expecting to find it so when he tried the handle, but to his surprise it swung open instantly.

He entered the room cautiously, allowing his eyes to become accustomed to the dim, yet strange light in the room. The heavy shades were drawn closed, and he made his way over to them, pulling them aside and allowing the bright sunlight to enter. When he turned to survey the room, he caught his breath. There were all sorts of computer monitors and television screens hooked up alongside one wall of the room. Most of them were turned on, showing various images from satellite photographs of South Africa, to scrolling numbers that meant nothing to him, to images from CCTV cameras that appeared to have been mounted around the house, and that Blake had never noticed before. Several of the small television screens were tuned to different international news channels - the BBC, CNN, eNews, amongst others - all muted. Blake frowned. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. The room looked like a scene from a movie, a control centre at NASA, a war room at the CIA, even. Marcelo was obviously obsessed about keeping an eye on what was happening in the world at all times, and Blake had to wonder how much of that was related to avoiding being found by Idris Mdoda.

It was quite ironic then, if that was the case, that the man had managed to find them anyway. Blake knew he was partly to blame for that, as he had inadvertently led Idris to Jade and her father in the first place. He couldn't avoid the twang of guilt that stabbed through his heart at that point. Surprisingly, it made him even more determined to find a way to rescue her. He went through Marcelo's room slowly, checking all the drawers, cupboards and Croxley files that were scattered throughout the room. Most of what he found related to random news events, some of them dating back several years, hurriedly scribbled notes made by Marcelo as he must have caught an interesting piece of news that he felt worthy of recording. There were also incident logs that he had written up based on activity from the CCTV cameras mounted around the house - every time a dog walked past and activated the motion controlled recording device, every time a camera went down for a period - receipts of spare and replacement parts for all the equipment. The deeper Blake delved, the more convinced he became that Marcelo had been obsessed about what he was doing. To the point of being obsessive-compulsive.

There was a mountain of information in the room, but none of it was shedding any light on their whereabouts, or on Idris Mdoda. Blake was quite convinced by now that what Jade had told him about their past, about the reasons they had left Brazil, and about the man who hunted them down, had to be based on some sort of truth. Why else would Marcelo have gone to such extremes to ensure their anonymity and safety? He couldn't shake the words that Idris had said to him earlier out of his thoughts, though.

Whatever you think you know about these people, it's wrong.

Blake sat down on Marcelo's bed eventually, exhausted from hours of browsing through all the reports and notes that Marcelo had made. He tossed the wad of papers in his hands onto the floor, unconcerned with the fact that he was probably screwing with Marcelo's pedantic filing and sequencing system. He was exhausted, and hungry. He couldn't remember when last he had eaten, as the past few days had seemed to have flown by in a greyish blur - the funeral, his sister's visit... all of it jumbled together in his thoughts as if his head were a tumble dryer. Food had been last on his list of stored information. He stood up eventually, making his way over to the bedroom door, when his foot kicked the pile of papers he had just tossed on the floor, sending them spraying across the room. He looked down in irritation, and would have kept walking had his eye not caught a particular set of numbers that seemed to be screaming out to him. He crouched down and lifted the single page up. It was a sequence of numbers similar to the one in his pocket, an entire page full, the only difference this time being the words written alongside each sequence.

Not just words... names. Names of places.

Chicago, Illinois. Pretoria, Gauteng. Cape Town, Cape Province. Marseille, France. Hogsback, Eastern Cape.

It was as if a light bulb had suddenly gone on in Blake's mind. The numbers were not random at all, he realised.

They were map co-ordinates!

### Chapter 15

Blake took a seat at the small computer desk that Marcelo had in his bedroom, beneath the bank of television screens and monitors. He opened the laptop and waited as it powered up. A blue and white image appeared on the screen, followed by a grey block that asked for a username and password. Blake tried several combinations that came to mind, but after he ran out of ideas he realised that Marcelo, as compulsive as he was about security, was not going to use the obvious choices such as names, birthdates or addresses. He closed the laptop finally, realising he would have to access the internet from somewhere else. It was a Sunday afternoon, though, and any Internet Cafe's in the area would be closed until tomorrow morning. He could not picture himself waiting that long to find out what those coordinates pointed to, not while Jade was still missing. Time was not on his side, and the longer it took him to find breadcrumbs worth following, the more likely it would be that Idris would have left the country with them - or even worse, that they would be killed.

He couldn't rule out that possibility. From what he had learnt so far, Idris was as capable of ending human life in an instant, as he was of tracking a pair of fugitives across continents. There was no way to be sure what the man would do next, which was why it was imperative that Blake found them as soon as possible. There was one place that he knew he could get access to the internet from, but it was a place he had sworn never to return to again. As he weighed his options he realised that there really weren't any others. He would have to head back to his house - back to the nightmare.

He stood up reluctantly, returning to the kitchen to grab his cell phone from the kitchen counter where he had left it earlier, before making his way out of the house and to his car. As he drove towards Ocean View Terrace he was restless. He found himself drumming his fingers nervously on the steering wheel - a habit he had of doing when he was anxious about something. He remembered Sharon pointing that out to him a few months back, and before then he had not even realised he was doing it. Now he couldn't help but notice. As he pulled into his driveway and switched the car off, he was surprised to find that hollow sensation had returned to the pit of his stomach.

Entering the house again made him feel like an intruder, as if he no longer belonged there. He couldn't deny that he felt that way, either. This house may as well have belonged to a stranger, as nothing about it felt familiar or comfortable anymore. He scrunched up his nose at the familiar stench that greeted him, deciding to leave the front door open while he was inside, to allow some fresh air to circulate through the house. The desktop computer he had bought Sharon almost a year ago was set up in the corner of the living room. She had used it mostly to update her Facebook page and Book Club website, and occasionally she would play online slot machines at Silversands. Taking a seat in front of the monitor felt awkward for Blake, as in the back of his mind he tried not to think about the fact that she used to sit right here, where he was now, staring at the same screen, typing on the same keyboard.

The Turner's were less concerned with security than Marcelo Vega had been, and there was no option for a username or password, instead the familiar Windows 8 application list appeared after Blake turned the computer on, and he quickly scrolled across to the logo for the Opera browser. He clicked on it and within a few seconds the Google image appeared. He pulled out the paper from his pocket and typed in the numbers carefully.

-45.43685. -21.55607.

The screen immediately came back with the message: Your search did not match any documents.

He returned to the search page, this time adding the word 'coordinates' in front of the number sequence. He watched as the search results loaded, bringing up a variety of options. He scrolled down to the third option, linking to a page called www.gps-coordinates.net, and clicked on it. The page loaded with the option to insert any coordinates into a couple of blank fields, in order to search the address. Blake proceeded to enter the numbers, and then waited as the page loaded. He was frustrated when the coordinates returned no results. He tried taking the minus figure out of the equation, and the results came back almost instantly.

Berzovia, Romania.

What the hell did that have to do with anything? Blake tried swapping the two coordinates around from Latitude to Longitude, and clicked search again. This time it returned:

Saudi Arabia. Some random spot in the desert.

He was missing something here, but he couldn't figure out what it was. What did Romania or Saudi Arabia have to do with the Vega's?

In a last ditch attempt, he tried adding the minus figure back into the numbers, after the longitude and latitude had been switched, and almost instantly his heart leapt as a familiar name appeared on the screen, alongside a map.

Varginha, Minas Gervais.

Minas Gervais was where Jade and Marcelo had come from! That couldn't be a coincidence. Blake wheeled himself backwards away from the computer monitor, staring out the window nearby. If he pieced things back together, Marcelo had received the envelope somehow, probably left at the front door anonymously. He had opened it and immediately recognised the coordinates for his hometown of Varginha. It was obvious that Idris was leaving them a message, warning them that he was coming for them and that he would be taking them home.

Was that where they were headed? Was that the plan?

Blake couldn't think of any better reason for the mysterious letter. Idris Mdoda was taunting them, watching them squirm. He really was a sadistic bastard. And now that he had them at last, would he be preparing to take them back to Brazil to face the music? In all likelihood there was a reward waiting for him there. Those pissed off businessmen and politicians probably still believed it was the Vega's who tipped the FBI off in the first place. What would happen to his woman when they landed in Brazil? Blake shuddered at the thought. No matter what happened, he could not let that happen.

He reached for his cell phone and dialled the airport. East London was a small city, and it was extremely unlikely that there would be any direct flights to Brazil from here. He was right about this, as the bookings clerk at the airport informed him that they only flew to Brazil from the OR Tambo International Airport in Johannesburg. The next flight would be at 10h45 tomorrow morning.

"What about connecting flights from East London to Johannesburg?" Blake asked the woman.

"One more flight left for today, departing at 16h45."

Blake checked the time. It was almost three pm already.

"Is that flight fully booked?" he asked.

"Let me check." There was a pause and the clicking of fingers on a keyboard, before she spoke again. "No. We still have a few seats available. In fact, we have five seats pre-booked less than an hour ago, so if you want to book any, I'd suggest you do that now."

"Do you have the names of those people who just pre-booked the five seats?"

The woman chuckled. "Now, you know I can't give that sort of information out, sir."

"I know, and I'm sorry to ask." Blake pleaded. "It's just that I was supposed to meet my girlfriend at the airport. She was booking the seats and was going to let me know, but I can't get hold of her on her cell phone. I think her battery may have died. I don't want to have to drive all the way out there if there isn't a booking yet, you know what I mean?"

There was silence for a moment before the woman said "Okay. What's your name? Let me check."

"Mdoda." Blake replied. "Idris Mdoda."

"Yes." The woman said, a smile in her voice. "We have you pre-booked on that flight, Mr. Mdoda."

"Excellent. Thank you."

"It's only a pleasure. Thank you for choosing South African Airways."

Blake hung up the phone. His heart was racing. Idris Mdoda and four others would be boarding a flight to Johannesburg within the next two hours. In all likelihood, Jade and Marcelo were two of them, while a couple of Idris' Cleaners were probably accompanying them. He must have flights booked from Johannesburg directly to Brazil for tomorrow morning as well. There was no time to think about things. Blake realised he had to stop them from boarding that plane, at all costs! If he failed to do so, he may never see Jade alive again. He grabbed his keys and rushed out of the house, not even bothering to turn the computer off again.

The roads were quiet as he raced out of Gonubie and onto the N2 highway which ran towards the city. He was grateful for this as he made great time on the thirty-two kilometre journey, approaching the East London airport a little less than fifteen minutes later. It was situated on the West Bank of the city. East London was divided in two by the Buffalo River, the only river port in South Africa. The city had originated on the western bank of the river, but had quickly expanded across. Nowadays more than 80% of the city was situated on the East Bank. One of the city's larger industrial areas had formed near the original settlement of the village of West Bank, and just past these factories and workshops lay the city's airport. It was at the western end of East London, where the R72 highway began its journey towards Port Alfred, Port Elizabeth and eventually, Cape Town.

Blake slowed down as he approached the road that turned in to the airport, not wanting to attract too much attention. The circular entrance road ran around the back end of the open parking area, and Blake scanned the parked cars, hoping to spot Jade, Marcelo or Idris, but he couldn't see them. He paid for parking at the electronic boom gate and then pulled into a vacant spot near the entrance to the airport. He switched the car off and waited. He had a clear view of the main entrance to the airport building, and if Idris was catching the flight to Johannesburg, he would have to use it. It was three-twenty pm, and passengers were usually required to check in around an hour before the flight departed. That gave Blake a ten minute window in which he hoped to catch a glimpse of them.

He started getting fidgety after five minutes had passed and there had been no sign of his friends. He finally decided to leave the car and enter the airport itself, perhaps they had already checked in before he got there. He would hate to have missed them and once they were in the departure lounge there was no way he was going to be able to stop them from boarding that plane! As he closed his door and started walking towards the pedestrian crossing in front of the airport doors, he noticed a white minibus pulling up to the boom gate at the entrance to the parking area. There was nothing overly suspicious about it, except for the fact that all of the windows were darkly tinted, but Blake paused to watch it as it pulled into the parking area. It parked at the furthest end, away from any other vehicles. After a moment, the sliding passenger door opened, and a large, bald man exited. He was wearing a formal grey suit and tie, and a pair of shades. Even from a distance, Blake instantly recognised the burly shape of the Cleaner that had spoken to Idris moments before he had been knocked unconscious. Blake crouched instinctively behind a nearby vehicle, peeking around it.

Jade exited the bus next. Her clothes had also been changed, and although she was not handcuffed or bound in any way, her movements were slow and erratic, as if she had been sedated. There was also no doubt that the burly guy and the second Cleaner were there to keep them in line. Marcelo exited after her, followed closely by another one of Idris' henchmen. The tall man himself exited last. He was neatly dressed in a suit as well, and from afar the group looked as if they were corporate employees attending a business conference. Nobody would think to look at them twice.

They made their way towards where Blake was hiding, and he quickly pulled his head into cover behind the car. He surveyed the entrance to the airport, looking desperately for any ideas as to how he could stop them before they reached the doors. There were a couple of locals hanging out at the smoking bench a few metres away, but they were more interested in that last fix of nicotine than anything else, and were oblivious to both the approaching group or Blake himself. There was also one security guard at the entrance door, and he was unarmed. People were passing through the metal detectors at the door, and Blake's heart leapt at the sight. These goons wouldn't be able to enter the airport if they were carrying weapons. This could only mean that they were all unarmed. Maybe if he surprised them...

Are you crazy?

The timid voice in the back of his mind seemed amazed that he would even be considering taking on two trained mercenaries on his own, armed or not. Blake clenched the muscles in his jaw, his mind made up, regardless. This was his one chance. If he missed it now, he may as well just give up and go home!

Home.

Where was that now? It wasn't in the three bedroom building he had once shared with his mother. It wasn't in the house that he had grown up in - that had been sold a long time ago. The closest he had come to feeling at home over the past week had been every moment he had spent with Jade Vega. The woman was his family now. His motivation, if nothing else. He wasn't about to let her slip through his fingers.

The footsteps were getting closer now, and Blake timed them, while his heart seemed to be doing the same. When he estimated that they were about to reach his hiding place, he leapt out and charged head first at them, unaware that the whole time he was screaming like a banshee!

### Chapter 16

His surprise attack on Idris and the Cleaners must have worked, because even as they came into view, Blake could see from the expression on their faces that they were not expecting to see him there. The bulky goateed guy that flanked Jade instinctively reached beneath his coat for a gun, but it must have been a force of habit only, as he seemed to pale when he realised he wasn't carrying one. Blake aimed his charge at this man first, as he was the closest of the three, and he caught him around the midriff at speed, the momentum of his charge sending them both sprawling to the ground awkwardly. In the commotion that followed, Marcelo took advantage of the confusion, slamming his elbow into the gut of the second Cleaner, doubling him over in pain. As the two men battled their adversaries, Idris grabbed Jade by the arm and dragged her back towards where they had parked the mini bus.

Blake was seated on top of Goatee and punched down hard at his face. To his surprise, the large man had excellent reflexes and managed to easily knock the blow aside, instantly raising his own fist and slamming it hard into Blake's jaw instead, sending a shockwave of pain through his skull. He felt the world spin for a second and stars flashed behind his eyelids. The impact of the blow knocked him backwards off Goatee, who wasted no time in getting to his feet and approaching the dazed Blake, a menacing snarl on his lips. Blake, in desperation, tensed himself, and was surprised to find the familiar sensation of tiny lightning in his belly had returned, just as it had with Road Rage Man and Vestie! It built up quickly inside him, as if the electrons had familiarised themselves with his neural pathways and, just as Goatee was about to rain down his fury on him, Blake raised his hands, palms upwards towards the approaching giant, and released the energy that had built up in them.

The shockwave that seemed to emanate from his palms surprised Blake even more than it surprised Goatee. It slammed into the big guy with a force that lifted him off his feet, tossing him easily backwards through the air for at least ten metres. He slammed into the side of a parked Chevrolet sedan, the impact crumpling the metal of the car as if it had been paper, and shattering all the windows. Goatee was dazed, but still alive, and he moaned as he shook off the glass that had rained over him. Blake got to his feet, staring at his hands in confusion. How had he done that? The question burned into him like a red-hot iron, yet he could not find an answer. He glanced up just as he saw Marcelo grabbing the other Cleaner around the neck from behind, twisting his head violently clockwise. The cracking sound was unmistakeable as the man's body went limp and he collapsed face first onto the floor. Blake was breathless now, trying to comprehend everything that was happening so fast, amazed that he was able to keep track of it all, as if it were being played in slow motion. He was also fairly positive that Marcelo had not seen what he had just done.

Idris had reached the mini bus by now, and he slid the passenger door open, shoving Jade roughly inside before slamming it closed. He reached into the front passenger side of the bus, pulling out a small piece of equipment. Blake only realised at the last minute that it was an Uzi sub-machine gun, but by that point Idris had opened fire. The cracking sound of bullets followed as they whizzed past his head, followed then by the dull thump as they slammed into the surrounding cars, smashing windows and punching holes in the metal. He found himself leaping for cover behind a nearby Jeep, with Marcelo following closely behind, as car alarms started going off all over the parking lot, and in the distant he could hear people screaming. As Idris kept them at bay with the gun, Goatee had regained some of his senses and ran to the mini bus. He started it and reversed out of the parking as Idris leapt in beside him. With tyres squealing fiercely, the van leapt forward towards the nearby exit gate as Idris let off a few more rounds in their general direction. There was no slowing down as the bus approached the plastic boom gate, and then smashed through it, much to the dismay of the ticket clerk.

Blake stood up from behind the Jeep, watching the bus as it disappeared from sight onto Settlers Way. Marcelo appeared next to him.

"What have you done?" he growled.

Blake looked at him in confusion. "What do you mean? I just saved your skin."

"I had this under control."

"Like hell you did. They were taking you back to Brazil."

"And you think that this is better?" Marcelo growled angrily.

"What the fuck is your problem?"

"They've got Jade." he hissed. "And I'm not with her!"

Blake stared at him in silence for a moment. He had come here hoping to rescue the woman he loved, but it had always going to be an impossible mission. One man was dead and Idris had taken Jade again. Things had not gone according to plan, but the least Marcelo could do was be grateful for his ass being saved!

"Don't you think I would have traded you for her in an instant, if I had a choice?" he asked Marcelo. "This all happened so fast. I wasn't expecting to be alive right now."

"You should have just left things alone." Marcelo was yelling now. "Why on earth would you come looking for us? Are you crazy or something?"

"No." Blake yelled back. "I'm in love with her."

Marcelo's mouth snapped shut suddenly. A frown creased his brow as he stared up at Blake, his eyes darting back and forth nervously. As if on cue, the last car alarm stopped its incessant blaring, leaving behind an awkward silence.

"I'm sorry... what?"

"I... I love her." Blake said, calmer this time. "I love your daughter. And that's just something you're going to have to get used to."

"You can't be in love with her." Marcelo gasped. "It's... it's... well, its crazy is what it is."

"She's not sixteen anymore." Blake replied. "She's a grown woman, and she definitely does not need you interfering in her life the whole time."

Marcelo's face flushed with anger, and he grabbed Blake by the shirt suddenly, pushing him backwards against the Jeep.

"You listen to me." He snapped, glaring angrily at Blake, but before he could continue they both turned to look at the commotion of sound to their left. A couple of security guards and several other people were running across the road from the airport building side towards the car park. Blake looked around them, at the multitude of wrecked vehicles - most of them missing windows and filled with bullet holes. His eyes paused briefly on the body of the Cleaner whose neck had been snapped by Marcelo, and then crossed over to the smashed remains of the boom gate. The place looked like a war zone. And right now, they were standing in the middle of it like two guilty soldiers.

"We have to get out of here." Blake said. "Now."

Marcelo released Blake's shirt angrily before stepping back.

"Where's your car?"

Blake led the way over to the Mazda, which had not escaped the rain of bullets, and now sported three neat holes in the metal along the passenger side. They climbed in hurriedly, just as the small crowd of people reached the fencing that separated the car park from the road. Blake slammed the car into reverse, before squealing away towards the boom gate and the open roads of the city beyond. He caught a glimpse of the crowd in his rear-view mirror as they waved their arms angrily and cursed them, before they disappeared from sight completely. Once out onto the two-lane Settlers Way highway, he opened the car up, racing back towards the city on the other side of the river. They crossed Steve Biko Bridge just as several police cars raced in the opposite direction towards the airport, at which point Blake slowed the car down and merged with the flow of sporadic traffic into town. They drove in silence until Blake pulled up at an empty parking space on the Esplanade, overlooking the main beach of the city, a popular Sunday afternoon destination for the locals. He switched the car off, an uncomfortable silence filling the interior for several moments.

"How do we get her back?" he asked eventually.

Marcelo grunted in reply, as if Blake's question was funny.

"I'm serious, man."

"Look." Marcelo sighed. "You seem to be confused. Those two guys with Idris at the airport were nothing compared to what he has at the warehouse. We're outnumbered ten to one."

"The warehouse?" Blake exclaimed. "You know where he's keeping her?"

"It's an abandoned factory up in Wilsonia. That's where he set up shop while he waited for the Cleaners to arrive. He took us there briefly this morning. It's well-protected. There's no way we're getting in there quietly."

"What makes you think he'd go back there?"

"Well, you ruined his flight plans for today, which means he has to wait until tomorrow morning. It's his temporary fortress. Where else would he go?"

"Okay." Blake nodded. "But surely he would want to find you first? I mean, before he leaves the country with Jade?"

Marcelo shook his head. "No. It's all about her, I'm afraid. She's the one that he has been after. I was just a bonus."

Blake drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. The sensation reminded him of the powerful force that had emanated from his hands earlier, and he stopped drumming instantly. "I'm confused. Why would he want Jade so badly? You were the one who was involved in the deal back in Brazil, right? She was just a kid, then. It makes no sense. And who is this Mr. White? He's obviously behind everything."

"I have no idea. It's a bit more complicated than any deal that was made." Marcelo sighed. "Look, the point is that Idris is prepared to leave the country without me, which means that we don't have much time. He'll be on the first available flight back to Brazil with Jade, I can guarantee that. If you really do love her, then you're going to have to trust me on that one."

Blake shook his head as he stared out the window at the nearby ocean. It was late afternoon, and the sky had started darkening to a breath-taking orange and purple kaleidoscope of colour, reflected against the disruptive surface of the water below.

"So what do we do?" he sighed eventually.

"I have a plan." Marcelo replied. "But it's not going to be easy. And we're going to need to get back to the house."

"Ah, back to your control centre then?"

Marcelo frowned. "You've been in my room. What the fuck were you..."

"Relax." Blake chuckled as he started the car. "I was trying to save your old ass, remember?"

"You'd better not have broken anything."

"Are you always so pedantic?"

"Are you always such a smart mouth?"

Blake smiled as he pulled away from the beachfront and headed back out towards the North East Expressway and the N2 to Gonubie. It was a weak smile though, as hiding behind it were the anxious fears of a man who felt as if he had been thrown into the deep end of a swimming pool, but had not yet learned to swim.

### Chapter 17

They parked the car about a block away from the house, under the cover of a large overhanging tree. From there they had a pretty good view of the driveway and front porch of the house on Ninth Avenue. Marcelo had suggested they wait until night fell before making their way on foot to the house, as he was concerned about who might be watching or waiting for their return. They sat in an awkward silence for a while as they waited. The street was very quiet at this time on a Sunday afternoon, and it made the wait seem even longer. Blake checked his watch repeatedly, irritated that the time was going so slowly. It felt as if he were letting Jade down by not doing something, and he was getting frustrated.

"We would have seen someone by now, surely." he muttered after five more minutes of fidgety silence.

"We wait."

"We're wasting time."

"We wait."

"I swear, if something happens to Jade in the meantime, I'm going to be pissed with you."

"Nothing will happen to her. She's too important to Mdoda."

Blake frowned. "What does that even mean? Too important? Why do I get the feeling there's something you're not telling me?"

"Now is not the time." Marcelo grunted.

"Really? Why? Because we're too busy doing something else?" Blake asked sarcastically.

"No. It's something you need to discuss with Jade."

"Oh, now you choose to keep your opinion to yourself. Now?"

"Please keep quiet. You're giving me a headache."

Blake chuckled. "Whatever, man. If you don't want to tell me, that's fine. I'll find out eventually."

It was Marcelo's turn to chuckle now. "You're so over-confident, it's laughable."

"Why are you such a dick?"

Marcelo frowned at Blake, obviously upset by the categorisation. "That's what fathers are. Dicks. They're dicks so that they can protect their daughters from dickheads, like you."

Blake raised an eyebrow. "Really? That's an interesting analogy. Where did you steal that one from? Doctor Phil?"

"No, your mother whispered it to me when..." Marcelo swallowed his words at the last minute, looking apologetically across at Blake. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean... you know..."

Blake nodded in reply, looking out the window at the quiet street, choosing not to respond.

"It's almost dark." Marcelo added, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. "Let's give it five more minutes."

They spent the next five minutes in silence, neither one wanting to start another conversation that would just end up being an argument again. Blake couldn't wait to open his door and climb out once Marcelo called the time, relieved to be away from the man's close proximity - he could handle him in bite size chunks, but even those short periods threatened to get stuck in his throat. He stayed close behind Marcelo as he led the way towards the house, keeping close to their neighbours walls and hedges, staying in the shadows as much as possible. When they were one house over, Marcelo held up his hand for Blake to stop. The short man, now just a dark shape in front of Blake, was peering over the chest high wall that surrounded his house, carefully studying the front yard and porch. After several moments he seemed satisfied that there was nothing unusual to see, and gestured for Blake to follow him as he nimbly scaled the wall and crouched in the yard beyond it.

Blake followed suit, surprised that it was more difficult than Marcelo had made it appear, and before long he was following the older man as he crouch-walked towards the house. There was a solitary palm tree planted midway across the lawn, and Marcelo paused there. It was almost completely dark by now, and the familiar suburban evening noises had penetrated the night around them – the odd bark of a dog, the distant sound of a television playing, and a passing car in the street – nothing unusual. Marcelo finally made the dash to the front porch, keeping low as Blake followed him. The front door was still unlocked, as it had been when Blake had returned to the house earlier that afternoon, and the two men quickly slipped inside, closing it behind them. The interior of the house was very dark, and Blake had to allow his eyes to become accustomed to it before he was able to navigate his way across the entry hall and living room towards the hallway.

Marcelo had gone ahead, scouting the kitchen and other rooms, before he met Blake again in the hallway outside his bedroom door. He tilted his head at Blake to follow him as he entered the bedroom, pushing the door silently closed behind them. There was a pale yellow glow of light entering through the window from a nearby streetlamp, and Marcelo headed over to the window, peering out for a moment before pulling the heavily lined drapes closed. He then flicked on the bedroom light, the sudden brightness making Blake squint briefly. Marcelo seemed confident enough that the drapes would block any light from escaping the room and giving their position away, as he straightened and headed for the nearby desk where his laptop was situated. He paused before he reached the small office chair, distracted by the array of papers that were scattered around the room. He looked angrily at Blake, his eyebrows raised.

Blake shrugged his shoulders. "What?"

"You went through my stuff?"

"I was trying to rescue your stupid ass."

"Hrmph." Marcelo grunted, turning and taking a seat at the laptop. He flipped it open and the familiar blue screen with the password entry block appeared. He checked to make sure Blake wasn't watching, then typed in the long password. The laptop loaded its programmes, and Blake approached eagerly to see what Marcelo was planning on doing next. He watched as the man loaded a website, all the while keeping an eye on the bank of CCTV monitors that kept watch over the house.

"What is all this for?" Blake asked, curious about the monitors and television screens.

"Protection."

"Don't you think it's a little bit of overkill?"

"I'm sorry." Marcelo grunted. "Was I the only one who saw the armed killers who broke in and kidnapped us earlier? My bad."

"Touché." Blake sighed. "So what are we looking for?"

"Well, I..." Marcelo emphasised the singular word, "...am looking for the local flight schedules out of East London in the next twenty-four hours. If we can figure out when Idris will make his move, we will know how much time we have."

"We could surprise him at the airport again?"

"No. Airport security will be on eggshells after the fiasco from this afternoon. There's no way we're getting near that airport again. Aha!" Marcelo gestured at the laptop screen. "There are only two flights to Johannesburg tomorrow. Six forty a.m., and again at four in the afternoon." He checked his watch. "That gives us about twelve hours."

"What if they get the later flight?"

"He wouldn't risk waiting that long." He replied.

"Well, what if they decide to just drive through the night instead?"

"It's a thousand kilometres. Besides, that's not how Idris rolls. He won't want to take the risk of something going wrong... a roadblock or a breakdown. It's just safer flying."

"Okay, so now what?"

"Hang on." Marcelo ignored Blake's question as he loaded another website, typing in a series of passwords and login names. Soon the screen was showing a satellite image of the southern half of the African continent. Marcelo used the laptop's mouse to manoeuvre the image on the screen, zooming in repeatedly towards the eastern tip of the country, and before long Blake was looking at a grid view of the streets of East London, in real time.

"How are you doing that? Google Earth?"

Marcelo chuckled. "US military satellite."

"You're kidding, right?"

"I never kid."

Blake believed that statement, beyond doubt. "How the hell, man?"

"There we go." Marcelo said, leaning back in the chair and gesturing proudly at the screen, which was now filled with a clear image of an L-shaped building on a fairly large plot of ground. "This is the abandoned lead factory where Idris has set up his fort. They kept us in the northern section on the first floor for a couple of hours before we headed for the airport. That's where they'll be, almost certainly."

"And how do you propose we get in there without being shot on sight?"

"From here." Marcelo used the mouse to draw a circle around a smaller factory at the northern edge of Idris' hideout. "This is a neighbouring brick manufacturing facility. It borders the warehouse. We have the best chance of not being seen from there."

"And then what? We throw bricks at them?"

"Not necessarily." Marcelo replied, standing up and heading over to the built-in closet on the wall to the right side of his bed. He swung the doors open, pushing aside the hanging clothes and revealing the wall behind them. He ran his one hand along the wall at a certain spot, and suddenly it gave way, revealing a hidden compartment behind the wall.

Blake's mouth fell open at the sight of the arsenal of weaponry that was neatly displayed on brackets in the narrow enclosure. He was no weapons fundi, but he recognised some of the impressive weapons from movies and television shows. Uzi machine guns, a couple of R4 military rifles, hand grenades, laser scopes, a grenade launcher and several 9mm hand guns!

"Fuck me!"

"Say hello to my little friends." Marcelo sneered, trying to imitate the accent of Al Pacino.

"That's a terrible impersonation. Where did you...? Why would...?" Blake gave up, speechless at the sight of the arsenal.

"It's a hobby." Marcelo shrugged.

Blake had to sit down, and he headed for the bed, flopping down weakly, shaking his head. He took a moment to study the room again – the monitors, satellite maps, files and eventually letting his eyes rest on the guns again. There was a hollow sensation in his stomach, the kind you get when you're standing on the edge of a cliff, looking down at the endless drop below. There was something eating at the edge of his understanding, and it itched furiously.

"What's going on here?" he whispered eventually. "What the fuck is all of this?"

"I told you, its protection."

"Bullshit! Protection is a licensed firearm at best, not..." he waved his arms around the room. "Not this. Not military satellite passwords, and machine guns. How did you even get access to most of this stuff? If you were on the run all the time, illegally in the country... it just doesn't add up!"

"We told you about the extremes that this madman has gone to in the past, we've just tried to be prepared, and that's all."

"And Jade knew about all of this?"

"Most of it."

"And she was okay with it?"

"It was never her place to worry about these things. It was my responsibility as her guardian... as her father."

"It's just so extreme!"

"It was necessary."

Blake shook his head. "Whatever, man. I don't know if I can be involved in all of this. This is way beyond anything I've ever had to deal with before."

"Then leave."

Blake stared hard into Marcelo's unflinching eyes. "What?"

"Leave." He repeated. "Just go. It's fine, really. You're right. This is way beyond you, and way beyond anything you should involve yourself in. Turn around and walk away before it's too late. This is between me and Jade and Idris. It always has been. There was never space for a spare wheel, anyway."

"That's not what I meant." Blake replied angrily. "My only concern is Jade."

"No, that's where you're wrong. She is my concern. Not yours!"

"I told you, I love her. I'll do whatever it takes..."

Marcelo laughed now, long and hard. "Love? You're delusional, friend. You don't love here, and she doesn't love you. It's not the way it works!"

"What are you talking about?" Blake stood up now, towering over Marcelo menacingly. "You don't know how I feel. And you sure as hell don't know how she feels!"

"I know more than you think I do."

The two men stared at each other for a moment, neither one wanting to back down, and for an instant Blake thought they would end up fighting again, as they had previously. He looked away before it went that far.

"Tell me this isn't a little bit crazy?"

"What's crazy is you thinking you could stand up against these people, with or without my help. You have no idea."

"I've done alright so far." Blake shrugged. "You wouldn't be here with me right now, otherwise."

"You're right." Marcelo spat. "I'd be with Jade. Where I'm supposed to be. At her side, protecting her! Instead, I'm with stupid."

"Fuck you."

"Fuck you!"

Blake sat back down on the bed, burying his head in his hands. "Look," he said finally, "it's pointless arguing about this. We are where we are, and we just have to deal with it."

Marcelo turned and closed the secret compartment in his closet. He headed for the door, but paused with his hand on the handle.

"If you really do love her, then you need to just trust me."

He opened the door and left the room before Blake could respond, leaving him to ponder the words that still hung in the air.

Trust was a two way street. It involved the ability to believe in someone else, beyond any doubt. Jade knew everything there was to know about him, had seen him at his best and his worst, and had touched his soul in a way that he could never explain, yet the little he knew about her and her father seemed shrouded in a dusty film. Unbelievable tales of a life on the run from the law, hidden compartments and mysterious notes. These were not the types of things that people who trusted each other completely kept hidden! He was on the verge of a major decision – a life changing decision, even – and it would mean pushing all the doubt and uncertainty aside and just ploughing ahead, blinded and willing to risk it all. Willing to die, even!

For a girl?

No, Blake thought. No. Not just for any girl.

For her.

That would be enough.

He pushed himself up from the bed, heading confidently out of the bedroom to find Marcelo, leaving behind the trace of a man he no longer knew, and a life he no longer could pretend was his.

### Chapter 18

Marcelo detailed his plan to rescue Jade over coffee and biscuits as they sat at the kitchen table later. He had laid out a large sheet of paper, and using several coloured white board markers, had drawn a makeshift map of the abandoned factory in Wilsonia. He explained in detail how they would sneak in through the brick manufacturing facility to the north, using the cover of darkness. He wanted to launch his attack at around two in the morning, only a few short hours from now! Blake suggested waiting until they were ready to leave for the airport at around five, but Marcelo shot the idea down.

"It's too risky. If we screw up there will be no second chances. They will get away and we will never see her again."

"I don't know." Blake sighed. "It's going to be dark as hell. We'll need flashlights, but they'll see them from a mile away. If what you told me is true, there will be lookouts on guard all night."

"That's why we need to break into a security store first."

Blake chuckled. "Okay."

"I'm serious."

Blake frowned this time. "A security store? Break in?"

"We can't use flashlights, as you mentioned. We need night-vision goggles. Military grade. The only place we'll get those on short notice is from a high end security store. I don't think the manager is going to open up for us if we phone him in the middle of the night. We have to steal them."

"You're crazy. Those types of items are locked up tight."

"You're a vault expert, aren't you?"

"Well, I... that's not the point!"

"If you'd rather use a flashlight, be my guest." Marcelo sighed. "It's your funeral."

"Fuck." Blake stood up and walked to the window, peering out through a small gap in the curtains. "So my choices are die, go to prison or lose Jade forever."

"Pretty much."

"Alright." Blake replied after a few moments. "Once we get these goggles, what happens next? How many guys are we looking at?"

"Idris has a team of eight Cleaners with him this time around. Two will be guarding Jade in the old lead storeroom on the first floor, one will be with Idris at all times, and the other four will be on lookout duty, I'm assuming. One is already dead."

"They'll be taking shifts, surely?"

"Probably. And it's a pretty big warehouse. We should have plenty opportunity to make our move. The only thing..." he trailed off.

"What?" Blake asked.

"If we are spotted, we'll be facing some heavy firepower. And once the shooting starts it's going to bring the troops! We can take on one or two at a time, but all seven Cleaners and Idris will be suicide. And it's not as if Jade..." he trailed off, shifting uncomfortably in his chair.

"As if Jade...?" Blake prodded.

"Well, she'll be locked up so she can't even help."

"I wouldn't be expecting her to." Blake replied.

"Anyway," Marcelo continued, "if we manage to get past the lookouts, we then have a long haul upstairs to the store room. The factory has been abandoned for years, but the floors are littered with broken glass, old pipes and oil drums. It's a noise-bomb waiting to explode, especially at two in the morning."

"What if we asked the police for help?" Blake said. "I mean, I know about your whole illegal immigrant status thing, but seriously... this is so much worse! We could both get killed! If we use the police we might have a chance and worst case you and Jade get arrested and deported, but at least you'll be alive. I could phone Detective Malherbe – he would help, I'm sure."

"I will not go back." Marcelo spat angrily. "I would rather die here than face those monsters in Brazil."

"And you'd be prepared to let Jade die too?"

"She would choose death over deportation. I assure you."

"Fine." Blake sighed. "I'm not the one in your shoes, I guess. If this is the only way, then it's fine by me."

"Can you use a gun?" Marcelo asked, raising his eyebrow at Blake.

"Yes, of course." Blake replied, but when the expression of disbelief on Marcelo's face refused to dissipate, he finally shrugged. "Well, sort of."

"Sort of?"

"I've played paintball a couple of times. And Tour of Duty on the PlayStation."

"PlayStation? You're kidding right? And fucking paintball?"

"The principle is the same." Blake defended himself. "Besides, I've never lived the type of life that required knowledge of the use of guns. That's not my fault."

"Jade knew how to use a gun by the time she was twelve."

"Jesus!" Blake shook his head. "And you think that's a normal way to raise a child?"

"It saved our lives. More than once."

"Okay." Blake sighed. "So you'll give me a crash course and we'll be ready to go."

"First the security store."

"Okay. Do you have one in mind?"

Marcelo picked up a nearby telephone directory, scrolling through to the yellow pages. "What about this one?"

Blake took the heavy directory from him, frowning at the block advertisement for Target Security, a store in the nearby suburb of Berea. He knew the place, as he had purchased pepper spray for one of the girls at his work there before. She had been in a mugging, and was terrified of walking to her car after hours. Blake had suggested the spray, and she had been grateful. Target catered for all types of security, from shock-batons to guns, and they specialised in high-end equipment such as military grade night-vision goggles.

"It's not going to be easy. It's a store that sells security. You can bet they'll be fairly secure!"

"Easy is for wimps." Marcelo grunted, and the reference made Blake cringe. He had been called a wimp by a muscular, vested bully only a few days ago, and the memory of the incident and Marcelo's nudge at his manhood only made his blood boil.

He clenched his jaw muscles. "Let's go, then."

They changed their clothes, selecting dark items to be less visible should anyone be watching. Blake dressed in a pair of black jeans, a black Metallica t-shirt, and a pair of black Sketcher sneakers. Marcelo handed him a polyester balaclava as they met at the front door after a few minutes.

"Wear this the whole time once we get there. There will be security cameras and we don't want to end up on 'World's Dumbest Criminals'".

"We probably deserve to anyway for breaking into a security store."

Marcelo ignored the sarcasm and led the way through the darkened front yard towards the road. It was almost nine-thirty pm and the road was deathly quiet. They stayed close to the walls of the neighbouring properties, half crouched as they hurried to where Blake had parked the car. Once they were inside and had swung the car around towards Main Street, Blake's heart was beating furiously. As they drove towards East London in the quiet traffic, he repeatedly ran through the events of the past day, trying to absorb the insanity of it all. It was only as they were pulling up near Target Security that he finally shook the thoughts from his mind and focused instead on what Marcelo was saying.

"I have a bolt-cutter in the trunk. Grab it and the flashlight. We'll enter through the back door – away from sight of any passing motorists."

"What about the alarm?"

"There should be a control panel that manages the main electricity supply somewhere. We'll cut the power first. After that we only have to worry about the battery power for the alarm. It's a simple cutting of a wire."

"How many times have you done this sort of thing?" Blake asked incredulously.

"A few."

They scaled a 6-foot wall that ran around the rear of the property, Blake realising just how unfit he was as he did so. By the time they were standing near the rear door of the building he was out of breath, and finding it even harder to breathe through the thick material of the full face balaclava. Marcelo had been right about the cameras. There was one on the corner of the building which was tracking the back yard. It did not appear to be linked to a live monitoring system, but they could not be sure until a fleet of armed response vehicles might show up. For now they were fairly confident that the images being recorded would only be seen by the store manager the next day, after they had realised they were burgled. The alarm would be another story altogether, as that would send out signals immediately to the security company that was hired to protect the building the instant they cut the wire to the battery power. East London was relatively small, so Blake estimated they would only have five to ten minutes to get in and out before they came to inspect.

"Do you see the main electrical board anywhere?" Marcelo asked, his voice muffled by the balaclava he wore.

Blake shook his head.

"I'm going to check around front." Marcelo said. "Get to work on that disc lock."

Blake hoisted the heavy bolt cutter up and approached the single door security gate that protected the rear entrance of the business. It was heavy duty steel, custom made. The padlock that kept it closed was a silver Yale disc lock, circular in shape to prevent its easy removal. Luckily for Blake, the gate design was flawed, as it allowed ample space for the bolt cutter to slide in and reach the tempered steel locking mechanism of the padlock. He lifted the bolt cutter and slid the jaws over the exposed end of the lock, clamping it gently. After looking around quickly he applied inward pressure, allowing the bolt cutter to slice down into the steel. The lock was tougher than expected, and it took two or three muscle-wrenching attempts before the lock finally snapped free, making a tremendous noise as the bolt cutter slipped and slammed into the security gate! Blake crouched down, cursing himself under his breath and scanning the small yard. A movement to his left almost had him shouting out in fear, until he recognized Marcelo's short stocky frame as he came around the corner.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Marcelo hissed angrily. "You'll wake the entire neighbourhood up!"

"Sorry. It slipped."

"Did you get the lock off?"

Blake nodded. "The power?"

"Cut."

He nudged Blake aside as he opened the slider on the gate slowly, the sound of metal on metal amplified by the utter silence of the night around them. When it was free he swung the gate open and stared at the door beyond.

"Can you pick a lock?" he asked Blake.

"Are you kidding?"

"Right."

"Can you?"

"We don't have time for that."

"So what do you...?" Blake's words were cut short as Marcelo took a step backwards and kicked the wooden door with a force that was hard enough to slam it free from its locking mechanism and crash inwards loudly!

"Jesus!"

Almost instantly the alarm started wailing, and Blake rushed into the building after Marcelo, who ran through the small kitchen area and into the main showroom, heading for the alarm keypad near the front door. He whacked the small control panel with the butt of his flashlight, smashing the plastic cover off and revealing the myriad of wires and computer control boards beneath. He pulled out a wire cutter and quickly snipped a black wire that ran inconspicuously along the one side, and the wailing alarm shut off instantly.

"We have five minutes."

Blake couldn't ignore the intense rush of adrenalin that was coursing through his body as he joined Marcelo in the search for the items they required. He had never done anything even remotely similar to this, except for one time when he had been around eleven or twelve years old. He had made friends with a local boy who had lived nearby to their house in the Quigney, a problematic child named Alan Goosen. Alan was the complete opposite of Blake, the only child of divorced parents, used to fending for himself on the rough streets of a lower class neighbourhood, and constantly in trouble for fighting and shop lifting from the many Chinese owned convenience stores in the area. Blake had befriended the boy out of curiosity and pity, more than anything else, and he had followed the older boy's lead for a few months. It was Alan's idea to spend a Sunday afternoon breaking windows on a nearby abandoned railway building, and Blake had participated out of peer pressure more than anything else. When they had tired of stone throwing, Blake had assisted Alan in breaking the lock off the door of a storage building, and he had gone along with the idea to ransack the lockers of the few workers who still worked occasionally at the rail yard. Blake had just started learning to play guitar, and his father had bought him a second-hand acoustic Yamaha from a local pawn shop. There was a hand-made wooden guitar case that had been carefully crafted by one of the railway workers in their spare time, neatly on display on a table, freshly painted in clear varnish and almost irresistible to the young Blake. When they left the building, Blake took the guitar case with him. It was tough lying to his parents about where he had got it from, and it was tougher explaining his lies a few weeks later when the police came knocking on his door after Alan Goosen had been caught breaking into a liquor store a few days before and had spilled his guts to the cops, naming Blake as his partner in crime and mentioning the guitar case!

The end result had been a traumatic court appearance, and with the help of a family friend who was an attorney, Blake managed to escape with only a suspended five year sentence for breaking and entering. Needless to say, he never spoke to Alan again, and the family moved shortly thereafter to Gonubie. He had carried that secret with him for years, and now, as he smashed open cabinets and cupboards in search of the elusive night-vision goggles more than twenty years later, he couldn't help but relive the nightmare of his teenage embarrassment.

Blake was so wrapped up in his flashbacks that he almost overlooked the two grey plastic cases on the lowest shelf of the cabinet he had just broken open. He swung his flashlight back to them, yanking one out and opening the case. The futuristic-looking goggles in the case had his heart leaping with joy.

"Marcelo!" he called softly, and waited as he approached.

"Excellent!" Marcelo exclaimed. "Take them both and let's get the hell out of here!"

Blake snapped the case closed and grabbed the other one as well, before he headed after Marcelo to the kitchen and then out into the yard. They scaled the wall again, Blake tossing the cases over to Marcelo on the other side before he climbed over. They ran to where the car was parked and just as Blake started fumbling in his pocket for the keys to deactivate the alarm and open the doors, they were bathed in the headlights of a car that raced suddenly towards them from around the corner, the familiar orange lights of a local armed response security company flashing brightly on the roof.

The car screeched to a halt a few meters from them and both doors swung open as two large men exited, fully dressed in bullet-proof vests and drawing their 9mm pistols as they screamed at the two masked men to freeze!

### Chapter 19

At first Blake's instinct was to run, but even as he tried to move, his legs seemed to have lost all desire to accept commands from his brain, and he found himself frozen in place, holding a bolt-cutter in one hand and the plastic cases of the stolen goggles in his other. He was still imagining what prison was going to be like, when the sudden sound of gunfire to his left suddenly snapped him out of his trance! He ducked instinctively behind the car, shielding his head with his hands, and as he looked up he saw the first security guard go down, clutching his leg in pain. Marcelo stepped past Blake, firing repeatedly at the remaining guard, the bullets smashing the windows and tyres of their car, the sound a deafening orchestra of chaos. He seemed to be fearless as he marched directly at the guard, unconcerned with the return fire or the bullets that whizzed past his head as the guard tried desperately to protect himself. He had ducked behind the door of his security vehicle, and was aiming his gun over the bonnet aimlessly, letting off shots. One of these lucky shots hit Marcelo in the hand, and his gun went flying, leaving him unarmed and defenceless!

The security guard, realising that Marcelo had suddenly stopped firing, stood up from his hiding place and started running around the front of the car towards them. Blake dropped the items he was holding and, without thinking, rushed out from behind the car towards the approaching security guard, who swung his weapon in surprise towards Blake instead! The next few moments seemed to play out in slow motion. Blake felt a calmness descend over him, a peace and tranquillity that was totally out of context with the mayhem that was happening all around them at the moment. His mind flashed back at lightning speed to the side of a highway, a broken down car, a defenceless woman and an angry, cruel motorist. It switched to a cosy bar, a men's toilet, a brutish and drunk bully. And then to an airport parking lot, and an approaching mercenary, armed and ready to kill him! He remembered the strange power that he had found within himself during all those instances, the electrical fingers of – something – that had coursed through his body, projecting outwards towards those bad people, filling them with it, touching them with it, slamming into them with some weird telekinetic projection – gently in some instances, violently in others! He felt this power building up again, he felt it filling his senses and his being, rushing up towards his now outstretched fists. He directed it at the furious security guard who was now applying pressure to the trigger of his gun, a gun that was aimed directly at Blake's head. He willed this force to leave his body and envelope this man, to stop him in his tracks, to slam him backwards through the air.

Blake screamed out as he opened his closed fists, releasing the force with all that he could muster, feeling the rush of...

...nothing.

When his hands opened nothing happened. No pulse of energy. No invisible wave of power. Nothing.

Blake looked in confusion at his hands, and then at the security guard, who had now started smiling at the foolish gesture Blake was making. At the last instant Blake felt an icy chill run down his spine, the cold realisation that he was about to die on this dark street outside a security store, for stealing something he would never use, to rescue a woman he hardly knew.

Before that could happen though, the security guard seemed to freeze in position, the smile replaced with a confused grimace as tried to turn his head to the left, managing only to cast his eyes in that direction instead. Blake followed his gaze and saw Marcelo standing there, his own arms outstretched now, his hands curling strangely in the air in front of him. When Blake looked back at the security guard he saw the man lifting impossibly off the ground, a few inches at first, but then a few feet! In synchronisation with the strange way Marcelo was twisting his hands, the body of the guard seemed to be contorting, doubling him over, lowering his hands, raising his knees towards his chest. After a moment the guard dropped his gun, and it clattered noisily against the tarmac, while his body continued to fold in towards itself, until it was the circular shape of a ball, as his hands wrapped around his bent legs, his head buried between the knees. The man was spinning in the air now, chest height off the ground, slowly revolving in an invisible prison of air, unable to speak or scream or move of his own accord!

Blake thought he was dreaming at first, and he was expecting to wake up at any instant, lying comfortably on his bed with Jade in his arms, and that all of this had just been a nightmare – the type that left you breathless and sweating. It was only when Marcelo pulled his own arms in towards his chest and held his hands close together in a ball shape, before he suddenly pushed them outwards again, sending the twirling shape of the security guard flying across the road in response, towards the large window of a nearby store, smashing through it in a rain of glass, that he realised that there was no dream, no nightmare, and that this was as real as the thudding of his heartbeat in his throat. The rush of blood in Blake's ears suddenly stopped, and the night seemed to return to normal speed again, the soft touch of a breeze on his neck. The guard that had been shot in the leg lay moaning to one side, a mournful sound, but at least he was alive. Blake looked across at Marcelo, who stared back at him unflinchingly. After a second or two the older man stooped down and picked up his fallen pistol, before he approached Blake, stopping a few inches from him, pulling the balaclava angrily off his head and cradling his injured hand with it.

"What were you thinking?" he asked. "You almost got yourself killed."

"I... how did you... I don't understand..." Blake was babbling, trying to find the words to express his confusion, but failing miserably.

"Get in the car." Marcelo ordered. "Before more people arrive."

"How did you do that?" Blake asked, still unable to move.

"Get in the fucking car!" Marcelo yelled suddenly, snapping Blake out of his trance.

Blake frowned. "No." he breathed, as he removed his own balaclava and tossed it to the floor.

"What?"

"I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what the fuck just happened here!"

"Really?" Marcelo shook his head. "You want to stand here and discuss this now? Here?"

"How did you throw that man across the street without even touching him? I thought I was the only one who could do that. I did it to the guy at the airport this afternoon. But it wouldn't work for me this time."

"Oh Jesus." Marcelo groaned. "What are you talking about? You've never been able to do anything like that. Get in the fucking car, Blake. We can discuss this later."

"I have powers too!" Blake said angrily. "I developed some sort of supernatural ability, I know I have. I've used it to protect Jade more than once. But how is it possible that you also have it?"

"Are you going to get in the damned car?"

Blake shook his head defiantly.

"Well, then you leave me no choice."

The words were barely out of his mouth before Marcelo raised his fist and punched Blake squarely between the eyes, sending him into a confused pit of darkness for the second time that day, a darkness filled initially with flashing reds and yellows that quickly dissipated into a complete and utter nothingness.

* * *

Blake couldn't shake the intense nausea he was feeling as he eventually tried opening his eyes. He was in a seated position, his head slanted forward, unable to move his arms or his legs, and as the blurred image of a carpet came into view, accompanied by the strange clacking sounds to his right, he lifted his head and blinked a few times, trying to clear his vision. He instantly recognised Marcelo's bedroom-turned-war-room, the bank of television monitors, the papers scattered across the floor. He turned his head to the right, towards the clacking sound, and he could see Marcelo was seated at his computer, typing away on a keyboard, his back towards him. Blake tried to speak, but his voice was muffled by the rag that had been tied around his mouth. He groaned loudly.

Marcelo stopped typing and turned around to look at him.

"You're awake." He said, his tone flat and unemotional.

"What the fuck am I tied to a chair for?" Blake tried to say, but the words were just mumbled garbage as they tried to fight their way through his makeshift muzzle.

Marcelo stood up, dragging his chair with him and plonking it down in front of Blake. He sat down and placed his elbows on his knees, staring intently at Blake.

"If I untie the rag, you have to promise not to make a lot of noise, okay?"

Blake stared fiercely at Marcelo for a moment, before sighing and nodding his head in agreement.

Marcelo leaned forward and untied the piece of cloth at the back of Blake's head, pulling it away from his mouth. He tossed it to the side and then leaned back in his chair, shaking his head disapprovingly.

"I knew this was a bad idea right from the start."

Blake spat out excess saliva, wiping his mouth awkwardly against the shirt at his shoulder.

"What are you doing?" he asked, calmly. "Why am I tied up?"

"You know," Marcelo said, ignoring his question, "When Jade came into the house that first night that she met you, the night you helped her when her car broke down, I could see that this was going to get complicated." He rubbed his left temple briefly. "She was always a handful. More so than usual. But for some reason there was just no stopping her when it came to you."

"What are you talking about?" Blake asked. "What does any of this have to do with you throwing that security guard through a window without even touching him?"

Marcelo smiled. "Yes. That. You weren't supposed to see any of that. But for some stupid reason I felt the need to protect you."

"Protect me? With some sort of super power? The same one I have?"

Marcelo laughed now, and it came from the pit of his stomach, not an ounce of jest in it.

"You have no super powers!" He said eventually. "You never have had, and never will!"

"There are things you don't know." Blake said angrily. "Things I've done recently. Unexplainable things."

"Are you talking about what happened with Road Rage Man?"

Blake couldn't help but look surprised. "How did you...?"

"And maybe the guys at the bar that night? Are you talking about that power? The fingers of electricity, as if your soul were escaping your body? The trembling sensation afterwards?"

"Jade told you." Blake was nodding now. "She must have told you what I told her."

"Wake up, Blake." Marcelo clapped his hands sarcastically. "None of what happened had anything at all to do with you. Did you really believe you were developing some weird power, like a comic book hero? Were you bitten by a lab spider? Did you fall into a barrel of radioactive liquid?" Marcelo was chuckling now. "Come on, man. Even you can't believe you just suddenly started developing some mad skills. This is the real world! There are no super humans. No caped crusaders. She was with you the whole time. You were not protecting her – she was protecting you, not the other way around."

Marcelo's words pierced Blake the way a knife would. The nausea that had started fading returned now, fiercer than ever. He blinked several times, trying to fight back the tears of anger that were building up behind his eyes. Marcelo was taunting him right now, using his feelings for Jade to confuse him or something, he wasn't sure what it was. Yet, there was this nagging sensation in the back of his mind that kept knocking and knocking. Could it be?

"I don't believe that." He shook his head. "I know what I felt. What I experienced. It was real and it was powerful."

"You experienced the side effects of what she was doing through you." Marcelo said. "Nothing more, nothing less."

"What she was doing? You mean in the same way you telekinetically threw that man tonight? You just said there was no such a thing as a super human or super powers. How do you explain the fact that I saw you doing exactly what you're telling me is impossible? And now I'm supposed to believe that Jade has the same abilities?"

Marcelo sighed now. He stared at his feet for a moment, as if studying the intricate design of each thread of cotton on his Nike running shoes, appearing to contemplate what Blake was saying. After a while he lifted his head, and there was a dark sincerity in his eyes.

"You have to believe it, because it is impossible for someone like you."

Blake grunted. "What is that supposed to mean?"

Marcelo stood up now and started pacing the room. He was mumbling to himself as he did so. He finally returned to his seat.

"For some stupid reason Jade has connected with you. I'm still trying to understand how or why, but for now I have to live with it. But if you really want to know the truth – the real truth, that is – then I guess I owe you that much. These feelings you two have – whatever the fuck they are – are not going anywhere, I'm guessing. The question, however, is not whether you deserve to know everything, but rather, it is whether or not you're going to be able to accept it when you do."

"Accept what? What are you talking about?"

Marcelo stood up and walked out of sight behind Blake, who flinched in expectation of another sucker punch, but to his surprise Marcelo wheeled the chair he was tied to over to the nearby desk instead, where his computer was. He placed Blake in front of it and then sat down on the edge of the desk, looking concernedly down at him.

"Explain how you feel about Jade to me again."

"What?"

"You heard me. Tell me how you feel about her."

"I told you earlier. I love her. With all of my heart. With every ounce of my being. More than I've ever loved another person."

"More than you loved your mother, when she was alive?"

Blake pondered the question, and then nodded determinedly. "Yes. In a different way."

"You've known her for less than two weeks."

"I can't explain it. It's weird, but it's the truth."

"Would you die for her?"

"I've proven that, haven't I?"

Marcelo nodded. "Yes. Yes you have."

"What's going on, Marcelo? What is it about her that you're holding back? Stop fucking around and just tell me, please!"

Marcelo drummed his fingers nervously on his own leg. Blake could sense that he was trying to decide whether or not to trust Blake with whatever secret they were hiding from him, and that the decision to tell Blake the truth was a difficult one for him to make. Marcelo finally nodded to himself, as if agreeing with whatever internal decision he had made, and he then crouched awkwardly at eye level in front of Blake.

He cleared his throat and then, in a hushed voice, asked:

"Do you believe in aliens?"

### Chapter 20

At first Blake did not know how to respond to Marcelo's question. To be honest, it had caught him by surprise. He almost laughed, but the serious look on Marcelo's face quickly killed that idea.

"Aliens? You mean foreigners, right, not the ET kind?"

Marcelo chuckled. "You humans and your preconceived notion of what we're supposed to look like. Do you think I'd fit in this stupid human form with a massive grey head and little midget feet?"

Listening to Marcelo talk made Blake feel as if he were listening to somebody speaking a foreign language. The words were English, but the choice of words seemed misplaced. Had the little Brazilian lost his mind?

"What are you talking about?" Blake asked, shaking his head and smiling. "Are you trying to tell me that you believe you're a ..." he had to hold back from laughing, "... a being from another planet?"

"Not just me." Marcelo replied seriously. "Jade as well. And at one point, hundreds of others."

This time Blake couldn't prevent the laugh from escaping, and he could tell that Marcelo wasn't in the least impressed by his blatant mockery!

"I'm sorry." Blake apologized once he had regained his composure. "But are you even hearing what you are saying?"

"The only one not listening is you." Marcelo replied. "As usual"

"I know Jade - intimately. There is no way she's... well, there's no way she is anything but human! Aliens don't even exist. They're a myth created by mental institution nominees."

"Of course... I must be crazy then. How do you explain how I was able to throw that security guard through the air with my mind? Please explain that." Marcelo said.

"Telekinesis? It's a proven ability of the mind, documented throughout the years."

"Aah. And you believe this is a human achievement?"

Blake chuckled. "What? So you're saying that those humans in the history of mankind who have been known to do it were aliens too? What next? Lady Gaga? She must definitely be an alien, I mean, just look at how she dresses half the time. And what about Jacob Zuma? Well, there I might even believe you, to an extent. Come on, Marcelo. Be serious! You're no more an alien than I am an astronaut."

Marcelo suddenly slammed his hand on the desk next to Blake, hard enough that he felt the vibration through the wooden floorboards and into the chair he was bound to. Blake couldn't help but notice that Marcelo's hand was bound in strips of white bandage, and that dark patches of red had started soaking through them.

"Take it easy." He said, indicating Marcelo's hand. "You're still bleeding from that gunshot."

Marcelo looked angrily down at his hand, and then back at Blake. He lifted the wrapped hand and held it out in front of Blake's eyes, turning it side to side.

"You mean this?"

He started un-wrapping the bandages, letting them fall to the floor at his feet, the whole time holding his hand steadily in front of Blake. When the last strip had come free, the bloodied wound, dripping steadily, was revealed. The bullet that had hit his hand, dislodging his weapon back at the security store, had gone right through Marcelo's palm. The hole had started closing up with almost black, congealed blood, but the force of the knock on the table had opened it up again, and fresh scarlet blood now dripped onto Blake's pants and the front of his shirt, as Marcelo turned it around several times so that he could see it up close.

"Gross, man!" Blake grimaced, trying to shuffle himself away from the dripping blood, but Marcelo gripped the chair with his good hand, ensuring that he went nowhere.

"Can telekinesis do this?" Marcelo asked, as he focused his gaze on his bleeding hand.

Blake's eyes widened at the vision he saw next. Impossibly, the wound in Marcelo's hand seemed to be healing itself, right in front of his eyes! He watched as the coagulated blood seemed to harden, lightening in colour, blending with the healthy skin around it, slowly filling the place where the bullet hole had been, until there was nothing but smooth, clean flesh in its place! Blake blinked, trying to clear the illusion from his mind.

"What the..." he whispered.

"Can human's do that?" Marcelo asked, sighing and sitting back down on the desk, flexing his newly healed hand.

"I... how did you..." Blake was fumbling for words, unable to communicate his thoughts clearly. "How is that possible?"

"It's not." Marcelo said. "Not for humans, anyway. Look, Blake. We don't have a lot of time! Idris will be moving Jade within the next four hours. The only reason I'm even telling you any of this is because some small part of me believes you may actually be able to help us! I can't do this on my own - even with my abilities - not at the warehouse, at least."

"Why not?" Blake asked. "You had no problem tossing that security guard around earlier. Who could stop you?"

"The warehouse they're holed up in is an old battery manufacturing facility. Years and years of lead-pouring and moulding have left high traces of lead compound in the walls and bricks - in the air, even. The abilities we have are muted by the presence of lead. It's hard to explain why, exactly, but they just are. Jade and I are as vulnerable as you would be there. The effect of the lead takes a while to wear off, which is why Idris chose the place, and which is why he is able to move us so easily afterwards – with a combination of mild sedatives, of course. And by mild, I mean horse tranquilisers. We couldn't use our powers even if we tried - not for several hours after leaving there, at least."

Blake shrugged. "Look. I don't know exactly what you are, and whether you're an alien or just a gifted telekinetic healer, it doesn't change the fact that the woman I love is still a prisoner with that madman. I will help, obviously."

"Thank you." Marcelo sounded relieved.

"But let's be clear about one thing." Blake continued. "When we get Jade back, you two are telling me everything! And I want the truth this time... not some fairy tale crap about Brazilian government contracts."

"I promise." Marcelo nodded.

"And this Idris fellow... how does he fit into the picture now?"

"That part was true. He is ex-FBI. But we believe he is now contracted to the Brazilian government, or someone very influential at the least. There's nothing they'd like more than to have a definitive answer on the whole Varginha episode."

"Varginha." Blake nodded. "So that's where you guys... landed?"

"Crashed would probably be a more appropriate description. It doesn't matter right now, though. We have to go."

"Okay, okay. Now can you get me out of these fucking ropes?"

Marcelo untied Blake immediately, stepping back as he rubbed his wrists. Blake stood up from the chair, staring hard at the shorter man.

"What are we waiting for?"

Marcelo nodded, walking over to the closet and opening the secret compartment where he kept his weapons hidden. He started unpacking firearms, tossing them onto the bed. When he was done, he handed a small semi-automatic rifle to Blake.

"This is an R4. Used by the South African Defence Force and the police. It's an upgraded version of the old R1 rifle, with a shortened barrel and a folding butt piece. It's semi-automatic, so it can fire single shots, for accuracy, or multiple shots – as a machine gun would." He tossed Blake a full magazine. "It takes thirty rounds. Don't waste them."

Blake tried unsuccessfully to clip the magazine into the rifle, and Marcelo marched irritated over and grabbed it from him.

"Here. Like this."

He showed Blake how to clip the magazine in, how to cock the rifle, and how to disengage the safety.

"Leave the safety on until we get to the warehouse. I don't want you shooting yourself in the foot. Or me in the back." He added.

"Funny."

"We'll need these as well, in case things go bad." Marcelo held up four hand grenades, and gave two to Blake. "Once you pull that pin, toss it away from you. There is a five second delay. I have two spare clips for the R4, and a military bullet proof vest. Take them and get dressed. We meet at the front door in five minutes."

"Show me your hand." Blake said, and Marcelo frowned back at him.

"What?"

"Show me your hand again. Please?"

Marcelo held the once injured hand up, now perfectly healed.

"That's fucking amazing. Can you heal yourself like that, all the time?"

"Small injuries, yes. A bullet to the head, no. And at the warehouse it may be impossible, due to the lead content – which is another reason not to accidentally get Jade or I shot."

The magnitude of the task that lay ahead started sinking in with Blake. They were about to face a small army of trained assassins, and the possibility that they would end up being killed tonight was more than likely. This morning he had been just another normal person, preparing to go to work the next day and resign, to start a new life with the woman he loved, and now he was preparing for a secret attack, armed with a military grade rifle, wearing a bullet proof vest and carrying grenades, accompanied by a madman, most likely, while the woman he had devoted himself to was possibly not even human! How did things get so crazy, so quickly?

Blake sighed. If he was losing his mind, he'd find out for sure soon enough. He grabbed the vest and the additional items that Marcelo had given him and left the room, returning to his own. He slipped the vest on quickly, slotting the extra R4 magazines into the handy Velcro-sealed pockets on the sides, and then putting the two grenades into a third. The vest was heavy, and as he looked at himself in the dressing table mirror, completely clothed in black, holding the rifle awkwardly in his hands, he had to wonder who the man was that was staring back at him from there. He did not recognize him at all. This man seemed taller, stood straighter, and had a determination in his unflinching eyes. Blake swallowed hard as he studied his own image, praying silently that he would be as strong on the inside as he looked on the outside when the time came.

He met Marcelo at the door, and they nodded briefly at each other before leaving the house, hurrying over to Blake's car, and then quickly pulling out into the narrow street. They drove in silence towards the N2 highway, the bright green light from the digital clock on the dashboard winking silently back at them.

01:17

Marcelo had written down the address of the brick manufacturing facility behind the abandoned warehouse, and he gave it to Blake. He nodded. He knew the street well. As they turned onto the highway from Main Road, Blake opened the car up, pushing it to the limits as they raced through the quiet night towards the industrial suburb of Wilsonia, on the north-eastern edge of town. The N2 ran past East London on the east, a direct road between the small town of King William's Town to the east and Umtata to the west. It was a well-travelled road, a two-lane blacktop that was usually packed with cars and trucks, but at this time of the morning it was almost completely deserted. Blake couldn't help but let his thoughts drift back to Jade as they passed the section of the N2 where he had first met her, the night her car had broken down. The reality of the situation bore down on him, as he realised that if Marcelo was right, they would only have one opportunity to save her. If they messed up, if anything went wrong, she would be gone forever. Idris Mdoda would take her out of the country, out of their reach, and who knew what would happen to her then! He would barely be able to live with himself if he never saw her again, but he doubted he could forgive himself if she got hurt... or worse. Whatever the truth was, it was not going to stop him from doing what he could right now to get her back to him. It seemed secondary to anything else besides seeing her face again.

The brick manufacturing plant on Osmond Street was a thriving and busy business during the day time. It employed more than fifty employees, and it occupied a piece of land that covered at least ten thousand square meters. The main building was situated alongside the road, while to the rear was a large open space, concreted out and used as storage for the thousands of pallets of already-made bricks. An eight-foot high security fence surrounded the entire property, and unlike the many similar fences in the area, it was not electrified. Bricks were cheap, and more importantly, they were heavy. To steal a pallet of bricks would require a heavy duty vehicle, and a lot of manpower. The owners had instead invested in a simple CCTV system, and the services of a security company to provide a day and a night shift security guard, who was housed in a simple fibreglass office near the front gate. These guards were seldom paid very well, and were mostly unarmed. Their purpose was merely to raise the alarm and to patrol the perimeter on a regular cycle.

They parked a few hundred meters down the road from the main gate, switching off the engine and the lights. They had a good view of the security hut, which was lit from the inside, allowing them a clear line of sight at the single guard who sat in a chair with his feet up on a desk. Beyond the office building behind the security hut, they could see the shadowy shapes of the square pallets of bricks in the stacking yard, and beyond that Blake could just make out the dark and foreboding shape of the abandoned battery manufacturing warehouse where Marcelo believed Jade was being kept. Even from this distance, it seemed to be a massive building, at least three storey's high, and stretching the entire length of the brick yard.

After several minutes, there was movement from the security hut, and the single guard exited and walked away from them towards the eastern-most end of the property, along the fence.

"He's on patrol." Marcelo said softly. "Let's go."

Blake's heart pounded so hard in his chest that he was certain the guard, now more than two hundred meters away, would turn and look back at him as he opened his door and climbed out.

### Chapter 21

The two men approached the security gate as shadows amongst the shadows, keeping close to the perimeter fence. The lights on Osmond Street were weak, casting a soft orange glow on the road below, but there were several that weren't working and this provided even more cover for them. They paused at the point where the fence met the main gate, while Marcelo scanned the property beyond to ensure that the guard was still on patrol. He gestured for Blake to follow him as he headed for the chain and padlock that secured the two halves of the large metal gate. He was carrying the bolt-cutter, which he now used to quickly snap the padlock, with surprisingly little noise when compared to the commotion that Blake had caused earlier in the evening back at the security store. He proceeded to slide the heavy chain through the bars of the gate, tossing it silently onto the grass to one side. The heavy gates were on well-oiled wheels, and they slid silently to the side as they entered the yard.

"We have to subdue the guard." Marcelo whispered. "If he finds the gate open he'll raise the alarm."

"Are you going to curl him up into a ball and toss him away?"

"Are you stupid?"

"What?" Blake shrugged.

"You'll knock him out." Marcelo hissed. "The old fashioned way."

"Me? No... I couldn't."

"Man up!" Marcelo grunted. "I'll distract him, and you hit him from behind with the butt of your gun."

He directed Blake over to the security hut, hiding him in the shadows, while he made his way across to the nearby alcove at the entrance to the office complex. He gave Blake a thumbs-up, and then indicated that he should keep an eye out for the guard, using the two fingers of his right hand to do so. Blake nodded in reply, still unprepared for what might come.

Time seemed to stand still as Blake waited, heart pounding. The second hand on his watch seemed as loud as a ticking time bomb, and it kept surprisingly good pace with his own heartbeat. After what seemed an eternity though, he finally spotted the guard approaching from the east, along the perimeter fence, and he gave Marcelo an urgent thumbs up as he stepped back into the darkness provided by the small fibreglass hut. From his hiding place, Blake had a clear line of sight of the guard as he approached at a leisurely pace, swinging a rubber baton which was attached to his wrist by a leather strap. He seemed bored, which he probably was, as this was hardly the most exciting job in the world. Before he knew it, the guard was at the gate, in the brighter light of the nearest spotlight, and approaching the hut behind which Blake was hiding. Just a few meters before he reached the hut, close enough that Blake could clearly make out his facial features, Marcelo gave out a low whistle to the guards left, which made him pause in his tracks and peer up towards the office complex building. With his back turned towards Blake, he stealthily crept out from his hiding place, the R4 rifle at the ready, butt first.

Blake could see past the guard, and he watched as Marcelo stepped out of the alcove, into the light.

"Hi, friend." He said, and the guard immediately changed his body posture, surprised to see the intruder!

"What do you want here!" he shouted at Marcelo, who continued approaching him.

"I was looking for directions."

"How did you get in here? This is private property!"

Blake had approached close enough now to be within arm's reach of the guard, close enough that he could smell the faintest whiff of Sunlight soap, a favourite amongst the Africans for washing body, hair or even clothes. He raised the rifle above his head, mentally aiming it at the back of the guard's head, hoping that he would not use too much force and kill the man! He held his breath as he brought the rifle forward suddenly, banging it hard into the back of the unsuspecting man's head.

It wasn't hard enough, though, as the surprised guard stumbled forward, regaining his balance and swinging around in surprise, baton raised. He started shouting when he saw Blake, screaming really, and the sight of the rifle in Blake's hands only raised the level of screams to a point where it was hard to determine any discernible words! It must have been an instinctive reaction that led the guard to charge at Blake, swinging the baton wildly, causing Blake to step backwards hurriedly. The baton caught Blake on the arm and the shoulder, hurting like hell.

"What the fuck!" Blake yelled, using the rifle as a defensive tool to ward off the wild blows. His foot got caught on the small curbing that ran along the inside of the fence, cordoning off a shallow garden, and before he knew it he was on his back, with the guard hurriedly approaching, baton still swinging!

Before the guard could reach him, though, he froze in place. Blake had seen this happen before, and he knew instantly what had caused the man to stop advancing. He peered past the motionless man, towards where Marcelo stood, arms raised in front of him, hands twisting gently in the air, while simultaneously the guard lifted off the ground gently, curling himself up into the familiar foetal position, and rotating in the air as if held by the invisible strings of a magician! Blake could make out the confused expression on his face, even more so as the baton slipped from his hands, thumping loudly on the concrete driveway.

Blake stood up from the garden where he had fallen, brushing loose bits of sand from his clothes, as he approached Marcelo, passing the revolving shape of the guard in the process. It was a strange experience, as the sight of floating men was difficult for the human brain to process immediately. As Blake reached Marcelo's side, the older man brought the fingers of his two hands together, forming a loose ball, at which point he suddenly thrust them downwards, towards the ground. In reaction, the twirling ball-shape of the guard plummeted downwards the short distance to the concrete, slamming into it hard \- not hard enough to kill him, but hard enough to render him unconscious! Once the bond between Marcelo and the guard was broken, his body uncurled from itself, the limbs splaying out.

"Jesus." Blake whispered.

"You couldn't do a simple thing like knock the man out?" Marcelo puffed angrily as he marched past Blake and grabbed the guard by the wrist, dragging his unconscious body over to the guard hut, tossing him inside and slamming the door shut.

"It's not as easy as it looks." Blake replied sheepishly. "You should have just used your powers in the first place, like I suggested!"

"Not using our powers unless absolutely necessary is what has kept Jade and I safe all these years. It kind of stands out like a sore thumb, don't you think? People floating around, being tossed through windows... Red flags! These days everything is on fucking camera." Marcelo pointed angrily up at the CCTV camera mounted on the edge of the office complex building, aimed directly at where they stood in the driveway.

"Okay, okay." Blake sighed. "I get it. At least you're wearing a mask. We both are."

"And you don't think a video like that isn't going to go viral? You Tube, Pinterest, fucking Bookface?"

Blake tried hard to suppress his laughter. "It's Facebook."

"Who gives a fuck?" Marcelo yelled. "The point is that we can't afford to have that kind of attention. Masked or not masked. It's our location, our livelihood, our very existence at stake!"

"I'm sorry." Blake replied, suddenly realising the impact of what had just happened. "I really am. We'll get the camera footage later, I promise. In the meantime..." he tapped his wrist softly.

"Let's move." Marcelo grunted, hating to agree with Blake, as he marched off hurriedly towards the rear of the office complex and the shadowy shapes of the palletised bricks beyond, clearly frustrated.

Blake followed him through the maze of pallets, the dark shape of the abandoned battery factory looming ahead of them, a macabre ghost ship in an imaginary ocean, lit only by the pale white glow of moonlight from above. It wasn't long before they came up against the rear fence that separated the two properties, and Blake waited patiently as Marcelo used the bolt-cutter to snip a man-sized hole in the chain link. He pulled the fencing aside, waiting as Blake stepped through. The yard on the other side was overgrown and littered with the rusted carcasses of old machinery - old grid casting machines, oxide mills, twisted parts of assembly lines and the rectangular shapes of control panels - the dials and knobs now just opaque reflections of their former selves. The plant had once specialised in lead acid batteries, the types used in motor vehicles, and the acid aftertaste of chemicals still hung in the air despite the fact that the facility had been abandoned years ago. Tufts of grass and bush had sprung up between the abandoned machinery, and it reminded Blake of an oversized graveyard, the shadowy scrap reminiscent of giant tomb stones.

Thankfully, the scrap yard provided ample cover for the two men, hiding them from the prying eyes of anyone who may have been watching from the enormous building ahead of them. There was an open stretch of land between the scrap machinery and the actual building itself, though, and Marcelo paused at the edge of it, hunkering down and surveying the ghostly shape of the factory for a few moments. He reached into his bag and pulled out the night-vision goggles they had stolen a few hours prior.

"It's time for these." He whispered, indicating that Blake should put his on as well.

Blake removed his pair, slipping them over his head. They were fairly bulky, not the slim-line version one saw the Navy Seals use in movies. They protruded a good few inches out from the face, and they were fairly cumbersome and took some getting used to. Once Blake flicked the power switch on, though, he scrapped any negative thoughts about them. The darkened building in front of them suddenly became a bright green daylight, as if someone had switched on an overhead spotlight. He could see each and every crack in the walls of the building, the broken windows and missing doors, even the tufts of grass and ivy that grew up the side of it! He was so overwhelmed by the impact of what he was seeing, that he never even heard Marcelo talking to him, and only acknowledged his presence when he was gently nudged in the side.

"Look for sentries." Marcelo was saying. "They should be on the roof, or in one of the upper-floor windows."

Blake nodded. He returned his gaze to the building, scanning from left to right, starting at the roof. The images reminded him of younger days, playing spy games on the PlayStation. When he spotted the first sentry, he almost shouted with joy, but contained himself and nudged Marcelo instead, pointing at the location where the Cleaner stood. He was on the roof towards the left of the building, standing with his elbows resting on the low wall that circumnavigated the rooftop. He appeared to be looking out at the scrap yard behind them, but surely there was nothing to see in the almost complete darkness below him. Blake could make out the pointy barrel of a rifle protruding alongside the man's body, resting against the wall.

"Good job." Marcelo said. "There should be at least two of them on watch constantly. If we can take them out quietly, we'll get the rest by surprise."

"The second one is probably on the other side of the building, then."

Marcelo nodded. He opened the long canvas bag he had been carrying with him, reaching in and removing a long rifle. There was a scope attached to it, and he slipped off his night vision goggles as he raised the rifle towards the man on the rooftop.

Blake pulled his arm down, earning an irritated glare from the man.

"You can't shoot him."

"What the fuck are you talking about? Do you think he would hesitate twice if the roles were reversed?"

"It's not that." Blake said. "If you fire that rifle, the rest will come running."

Marcelo tilted his head at Blake. "You're right."

"Use your powers." Blake said, and then added. "There aren't any camera's here."

"No good." Marcelo replied. He placed the rifle on the ground, and then held his hand in the air above it, fingers spread. Blake could see the concentration on his face, even the pulsing of an artery in his temple. Nothing happened. The rifle remained motionless.

"It's the lead." Marcelo explained. "It's in everything!"

Lead was used in the manufacturing of the batteries, large plates - as many as twelve at a time - were inserted into the plastic battery containers, to assist with the conducting of electricity from one cell to another. Most lead acid battery manufacturers also produced their own lead plates, as it was a cheaper alternative, and the effect of years and years of handling, melting, shaping and cutting lead had left tiny remnants of it everywhere - most of them invisible to the human eye. Blood tests were common amongst these factory workers, to measure the amount of lead in their bodies, as lead poisoning had been a consistent problem for years.

"What are we going to do?" he asked, glancing up at the man on the rooftop again, painfully aware that the minutes were ticking by faster than they needed to.

### Chapter 22

Marcelo packed the rifle back into the canvas carry bag again, removing a large military hunting knife from the assortment of weapons in there instead. He zipped the bag closed and then swung it over his shoulder, indicating for Blake to follow him when the time was right. They stayed crouched in their position for several minutes while Marcelo surveyed the Cleaner on the roof. It wasn't long before the man turned away from them, his attention drawn by something behind him on the rooftop. Marcelo immediately raced across the open clearing between them and the building itself, with Blake following closely behind. It was only a short distance, no more than thirty meters or so, but the entire time they were running, Blake was expecting a shot or a shout to ring out at any moment. They reached the overgrown shrubbery at the base of the building without incident though, hearts racing as they paused for breath with their backs to the wall. From here the Cleaner above would not be able to see them unless he decided to lean out over the railing and look straight down.

There was an open doorway a few meters to their left, and Marcelo led the way towards it, treading carefully over the small pieces of debris that littered their path. They slipped silently inside the building without being detected. The night-vision goggles were invaluable at this stage, as the interior of the building was cloaked in an almost tangible darkness. They seemed to be in an open warehouse section, possibly what used to once be the factory floor. Tall steel beams stretched from the floor to the roof high above, where the rusted and now motionless extractor fans kept watch over the vacant factory below. There were several untidy stacks of old wooden pallets scattered around the factory floor, and the green ghostly shape of redundant conveyer tracks snaked awkwardly between them. They paused at the doorway, carefully surveying the interior for any sign of movement, but after a few seconds Marcelo led the way directly across the floor, ducking beneath a conveyer track ahead of them, and heading for the furthest end of the factory, where a flight of stairs led upwards and out of sight to the first floor above and to their right.

"What's upstairs?" Blake whispered as they scurried towards the stairwell.

"Offices. And the lead processing room."

"Is that where Jade is?"

Marcelo nodded, holding up his hand as they reached the stairwell, where he carefully poked his head in to ensure that it was unoccupied. He moved into the stairwell with Blake close on his heels. They made their way up the littered concrete stairs, carefully avoiding the discarded trash that threatened to alert the enemy of their presence – empty plastic bottles, cold drink tins and an assortment of plastic and metal parts. The factory had been shut down more than five years earlier, and in the meantime it had slowly started disintegrating – thanks in part to the stream of vandals and vagrants that had passed through its doors over the years. At the landing halfway to the first floor someone had once made a fire, and the walls were blackened with soot. Graffiti artists had made their mark on the walls, gang signs, teenage declarations of love and some other more crude slogans that only their creator would understand. The stairwell smelled of piss. Vagrants had probably used it as a makeshift toilet, too lazy to walk outside. Passing through the stairwell was uncomfortable, to say the least, and Blake was relieved when they finally reached the open doorway at the top, leading out into the less confined hallway that separated a section of vacant rooms.

"The lead processing room is right at the end of the hallway." Marcelo whispered. "Idris' men will be sleeping in the rooms between here and there."

"What about Idris? Where would he be?"

"His office is right next to Jade's prison cell, for lack of a better word. Be careful... and quiet!"

Blake nodded.

The two men crept slowly along the hallway, keeping the wall to their left. They paused at each doorway before passing across it, and as they did Blake could make out the blanket covered shapes of men asleep on collapsible army stretchers. There was the ominous sound of muffled snoring, a strange soundtrack to their silent invasion. Blake kept his hand firmly on the grip of the R4 rifle, poised to start firing at any moment if any of the Cleaners stirred. They managed to reach the end of the hallway before they knew it, surprisingly without waking any of them up, and were left with only one more doorway. If Marcelo was right, this was where Idris would be sleeping. Directly ahead of them, and along the parallel wall, was a windowless room. There was a heavy metal door that guarded it, locked securely with two heavy-duty iron padlocks. Blake could almost feel Jade's presence in that room, as if she were a heat source on an infrared monitor. He wanted to burst through that door and grab her and hold her and never let her go again, but he restrained himself with some effort. Marcelo stepped gingerly past the open doorway that led into Idris' room, and Blake was about to follow suit when a shape suddenly appeared between them, grabbing Marcelo roughly from behind and hurling him across the hallway and into the wall on the opposite side!

The attack had come by surprise, and Marcelo had no time to react, striking the wall with his head instead, and a bone-crunching sound that seemed to echo through the empty hallway, forcing him to drop the knife he carried, and it clanged noisily on the floor. It was enough of a commotion to awaken the sleeping men in the rooms behind them, and Blake's heart raced as he realised the frantic scurrying and alarmed shouts meant that they had been discovered! He was still fumbling clumsily with the safety catch on the R4, when the tall shape of Idris Mdoda turned from where he had been standing over Marcelo's motionless body and pointed a 9mm pistol at Blake's head.

"I will blow you the fuck away." He hissed menacingly.

Blake froze in position, the rifle halfway raised. He considered ignoring the threat and firing anyway, but instead he slowly lowered the barrel to the floor again. There was a bustle of sound from behind him, and he turned his head to see four or five large men stumbling into the hallway, all armed and looking disoriented. Within a few seconds he had six guns aimed at him! He stared at each of them in turn, ghostly warped faces through the monitor of the goggles, before he finally opened his hand and dropped the rifle to the floor, where it clattered loudly.

"Get him and this other idiot into the cell." Idris ordered his men, who immediately swooped on Blake, removing the 9mm pistol he had tucked in his waistband. They ripped the night-vision goggles and the balaclava off his head, plunging the entire scene into almost complete darkness. The Cleaners and Idris were now just dim shapes in the dark, and Blake did not see where the punch came from, but suddenly he was doubled over and on his knees, gasping for breath as he tried breathlessly to regain his wind. Arms lifted him from behind, under his armpits, and dragged him across the dirty floor towards the steel door that secured the room where Jade was being kept. One of the Cleaners unlocked the padlocks, and then the door was swung open noisily, before Blake was tossed awkwardly inside, sliding across the floor and banging his head on something metal. The unconscious body of Marcelo was thrown in next, before the unmistakable shape of Idris stood in the doorway, silhouetted in the pale moonlight beyond.

"I have to give you a ten for tenacity." He chuckled. "I probably should have just killed you yesterday when I had the chance. I must be going soft. Don't worry, though. Everything comes full circle, and it looks like I'll get another chance. You're just in time too! We were about to prepare for transit – for a second time, I might add – no thanks to you."

"You're not going to get away with this." Blake replied angrily.

"Oh, I will."

"The cops are on the way." Blake said, sounding unconvincing, even to himself.

Idris chuckled now. "No. No they're not. Marcelo Vega would never risk that – he was always too proud to ask for help. Oh, by the way, thank you for bringing the lost son home... for that I am grateful. At least, just enough to make sure you die quickly."

Blake was about to respond, but the shadowy shape stepped away from the doorway and then it slammed shut, plunging the already dark room into an almost utter pitch black void. Blake sat up noisily, every sound amplified tremendously due to the lack of sight. He felt the solid form of some sort of machinery to his right, and he leaned back against it.

"Marcelo!" he called out. "Are you okay?"

"He's out like a light." The voice said, from somewhere in the darkness to his left. It was unmistakably familiar, a beacon of invisible light that only he could see.

"Jade!"

"You shouldn't have come." She said, and there was a sadness in her voice that he had not heard before.

"What are you talking about? I, we, had to try and get you away from that madman."

"Instead you got yourself killed – and Marcelo captured again."

"I'm not dead yet."

"You will be."

The words seemed to dissipate into the air, vanishing in the uncomfortable humidity that pressed down on them.

"Where are you? I can't see you." Blake peered into the wall of nothing in front of his eyes, straining to find the shape of her.

A light flickered suddenly in the darkness, and a tiny flame moved towards the floor, where it was held against a half-burned candle, awkwardly placed in a discarded tea-cup saucer. The feeble yellow light did enough to illuminate the familiar shape of Jade Vega where she sat in the furthest corner of the room on a rat-eaten and piss-stained mattress. Blake's heart leapt at the sight of her, as he had almost believed at one stage that he never would again. Her shoulders were slumped, her hair unkempt, and the sadness he had noticed in her voice earlier had seemed to perch on her shoulders, hunching them downwards.

"You're so stupid, Blake." She seemed to be drawling her words, struggling to get them out. She was shaking her head now, straggly strands of her hair casting long shadows across the walls. "All you had to do was forget about me."

Blake couldn't help but notice the slight slur in her voice – the effect of sedating drugs, no doubt.

"Are you crazy?" Blake crawled across the floor towards her, seating himself on the mattress at her side and placing his hand on her shoulder. "How could I ever do that? I... I love you, Jade!"

She looked up at him, the frown on her forehead deepened by the shadows cast from the candle. "You couldn't – even if you wanted to. Not the 'me' you think you do, at least."

"You're right." Blake nodded, squeezing her shoulder and then lifting her chin so that she would look into his eyes. "For a moment I thought it was impossible too. But I love... both of you."

Jade blinked a few times, a cloud of confusion in her eyes. "You mean Marcelo and me?" She seemed to notice something in Blake's eyes, and after several seconds she opened her mouth, then hesitated. Finally she said: "You know?"

Blake nodded again, smiling. "Not all the details, I'll admit. But Marcelo told me – and showed me – enough. Enough to convince me that it doesn't make any difference to me – whatever – wherever, where you're from. I couldn't stop loving you even if I tried. And I think – I know - you feel the same way!"

Jade sighed. "It doesn't matter now. It's all over anyway."

"No." Blake shook his head vehemently. "No, Jade. It's not over... and it won't be – not while I'm still breathing."

### Chapter 23

They tended to Marcelo as best they could with the limited lighting and lack of any medical supplies that they had. He had sustained a nasty blow to the head and a large swollen bump had formed beneath blood-soaked tufts of hair. The cut was superficial though, which was a relief. They maneuvered his unconscious body onto the mattress where Jade had been sitting, and kept his head elevated. In the pale glow of the candle light tiny drops of sweat traced snail-like paths down the side of his face, while his eyes danced behind his closed eyelids. The room was stuffy, to say the least. There were no windows, and hardly any natural ventilation. The walls were made of metal which had absorbed the direct rays of the sun through the missing windows on the first floor for most of the day, and even now were still warm to the touch. This, combined with the added heat from their own bodies in the tiny confined space, had turned the room into a hot and sticky sauna.

"Did he hurt you?" Blake asked concernedly, taking a seat on the floor nearby, his back against the warm metal wall. "Idris?"

Jade shook her head slowly. "No."

"What drug has he given you?"

She shrugged. "Don't know. Small white pill."

"Methaquolone, most likely. It's the most likely one to reduce your... abilities."

She looked up at Blake, her face emotionless. "How much did Marcelo tell you about... you know – us?"

"Enough. But it doesn't matter right now. We'll discuss it at another time."

Her shoulders shook as she chuckled silently. "There will never be another time."

"Yes there will." Blake said determinedly.

"He is taking us back to Brazil. Back home. And you... he will probably just kill you."

"I won't let that happen."

"You can't stop it."

"I can try."

"You're so stubborn! So confident in yourself..." she smiled.

"That's because I believe that all of this has a reason, a purpose. Why else?"

Jade sighed, smiling again, weakly. "We, my species, have been on your planet since man first had an intelligent thought."

"Jade. It's okay. You don't need to..."

"I want to." She said determinedly. "I have to."

Blake nodded slowly, settling back and listening intently as she spoke.

"Our purpose has always been to maintain the balance of good and evil on this planet. Humans have always been drawn to the dark side – your Bible is full of examples of this. Eve and the temptation by the snake, Cain and Abel... even then you needed our unique abilities. Left to your own devices your kind would have destroyed this planet and all life on it by now, several times over. With so few life-giving planets in the universe, the Fathers could not let this happen."

"The Fathers?"

"Our elders and leaders. We are called Ka, our species, and for thousands of years we have travelled the galaxies, protecting the feeble balance of life within. It is our sole purpose and destiny. We are born as one of two kinds – Amplifiers or Protectors. We are assigned in pairs, working for several human years at a time on a planet, before being transferred or replaced. Marcelo was my Protector – his sole purpose being to ensure my safety as I worked."

"So what did you do exactly? What was your function as an Amplifier?"

"To do exactly that – amplify the effects of good or bad kri where it was required."

"Kri?"

Jade nodded. "Every action has an equal and opposite reaction. This is a universal truth. When bad things happen, good things have to happen too, to balance out the bad. When there is too much evil, we have to counter it with goodness, or eliminate the evil. I have the ability to see the souls of those near me, to see their destiny or purpose in life. Their aura's are like windows into their future, and every despicable act, no matter how small, is visible to me as if I were the one living that life. I then absorb the darkness in them, and am able to amplify it back again. The ancient Indians developed a name for this... karma."

"Right..." Blake nodded. "Do unto others as you would have them do to you, for example?"

"The Christian Bible repeats this message several times." Jade replied. "Like deeds lead to like effects. It's causality, basically. That is what we do. What we are."

"So you're telling me that you... your species... invented karma?"

"Emphasised it, in a sense. It's always been around."

"So you've been doing this for thousands of years, right here on Earth?"

"Through all the important times. Ancient Egypt and India. The World Wars and Vietnam. The forming of the United Nations and more recently the abolishment of Apartheid here in South Africa."

"Wow, you've been busy!"

Jade chuckled. "No, not all me, silly. There are – were – hundreds of us here, spread across the globe where we were needed."

"Were? What happened? How many are left?"

"Just the two of us now. But not for long."

Blake sucked in his breath. "What about the rest of them?"

"The key to our success all these hundreds of years has been our ability not to be noticed. We come, we fix, and we leave. No traces, no sightings, no suspicions. Sure, we've slipped up in the past, but the truth has been filtered down over the generations, and now many of our mistakes are merely myths or legends. Even your Bible refers to an early sighting, in the books of Ezekiel and Revelations, specifically. The ancient Indians developed an entire religion around what we do, for crying out loud."

"That's incredible."

"As I said, we've managed to keep it low key. That was until 1996. The year that Marcelo and I arrived in South America."

"Minas Gervais."

Jade nodded. "Varghina was never meant to be our destination. We were headed for Niger to prevent Colonel Ibrahim Bare Mainassare from deposing the first democratically elected president, Mahamane Ousmane, in a military coup, but the tracking system on our ship failed, and we crash-landed in Varghina instead. This was on the 20th January, and 9 days later the coup went ahead. To cut a long story short, the accident was witnessed by some local teenagers, who alerted their relatives and the military. Marcelo and I had to find vessels – human disguises – to flee on foot unnoticed, and by some miracle we managed to get away, but not before we came face to face with Idris Mdoda several days later. By then the United States government was involved, and he was a young, arrogant FBI agent with something to prove, and being able to prove the existence of alien life once and for all, was, he believed, the key to his career immortality. We got out of South America before he could capture us, and he has been after us ever since – even after being thrown out of the agency."

"That would explain his relentlessness, I guess."

"Exactly." Jade cleared her throat. "Anyway, the crash made local headlines, and sparked a new burst of interest in the possibility of extra-terrestrial existence. The South American and U.S. governments did a fantastic job of covering everything up, of course, but the damage to our anonymity had already been done. The Fathers recalled everyone immediately, and they have been gone ever since."

"Except for you and Marcelo. Why not?"

"We tried to leave. Twice. The first time in Pretoria, several months after arriving in South Africa. The ship the Fathers sent to fetch us was spotted by a local policeman, and a chase ensued that involved more than 200 police vehicles and helicopters, once again making national headlines. The Fathers had to abandon us for fear of losing more Ka. They tried again three years later, when we were in the Free State, near Warden, but this attempt was also foiled – this time by Idris himself. By then they had to make a choice – risk being discovered, or leave us behind."

"Idris spoke to a man on the phone, he called him Mr. White? Who do you think he is?"

"I've heard the name. He's obviously the man pulling all the strings, but I have no idea why, or where he fits in the picture."

They sat in silence for a few moments, the occasional flicker of the dying candle causing havoc with their twisted shadows on the walls of their metal prison. Marcelo groaned briefly, and Jade leant over to wipe his brow. She crawled over to where Blake sat, shifting in beside him as he lifted his arm over her shoulder.

"We've been running ever since Varginha – with Idris always close behind. I try and use my abilities whenever I can, in small ways, trying to make a difference. But it's so difficult, and this planet is so big."

"So that day with Road Rage Man... that was you?"

Jade nodded. "I was afraid he would hurt you, and I couldn't let him. He..." she swallowed. "I saw his life, his soul. He was so angry, all the time. Four days after we met him he would drown his own six-year old son in the bathtub, for breaking a window. I had to stop him."

"Jesus!" Blake gasped. "I had a vision of him doing that! It was the night before we had dinner the first time. I thought I was going crazy. So you sent a truck his way to... balance things out?"

"It's horrible, isn't it? We don't get to choose the delivery method, if that makes any difference."

"You saved a child's life. And probably mine too."

"The two men at the hotel, the drunk ones, they would have kidnapped and raped three women at a nightclub a few months after we met them. One of those women would one day have become the first female President of this country – but the rape scarred her for life, and instead she would take her own life a few years later."

"Fuck me." Blake whispered. "And you see all of this when you meet someone?"

"When I choose to see it. With you I felt the need to... protect you. It was strange, and not something I'm used to feeling.

"If it's anything like the way I feel about you, then I understand."

"Love?" she asked.

Blake shrugged. "Maybe."

"I'm not sure what human love is supposed to feel like, really – but I somehow think I love you too." She whispered.

Blake's heart leapt with joy at the words, and he squeezed her tightly against him, kissing the top of her head. He closed his eyes for a moment, sighing deeply as he breathed the scent of her in.

"I don't think it's an emotion that's bound to one species. It's universal, has to be. Look, I'm sorry." He said. "This was all my fault. I got you into this mess. You and Marcelo. I led Idris right to you."

"No." Jade smiled weakly. "It was bound to happen sooner or later." She shifted uncomfortably beside him, lifting her head to look down at his chest. "What are you wearing?"

Blake chuckled. "It was Marcelo's idea. A bullet proof vest. You should've seen all the shit he kitted us out with! Rifles, night-vision goggles..."

Blake sat up straight suddenly as realisation dawned on him!

"What is it?" Jade asked, startled by his sudden movements.

"Your dad – Marcelo, I mean - is a fucking genius." Blake said excitedly, as he started pulling open the Velcro flaps on the Kevlar jacket, almost yelling in delight as he found what he was looking for, and held it up in the pale light.

"Is that...?"

"A hand grenade!" Blake laughed. "Two of them. Those idiots forgot to search me."

As if on cue, there was a muffled voice from outside of their prison, and the metal clanking of keys against the door as someone started unlocking it from the outside.

"Get back." Blake hissed urgently, indicating the furthest corner of the room from the door. He helped Jade grab Marcelo and drag him across the floor, away from the door. He lifted the heavy, stinking mattress and positioned it over where the two of them were now seated in the corner. "Stay behind this thing until I tell you otherwise!"

"Blake!" Jade protested in a whisper. "No! You'll get yourself killed."

"I'll be fine. Stay there."

Blake moved towards the door, standing on the candle as he did so, killing the soft glow of light instantly and plunging the room back into utter darkness. He paused at a point where he assumed he would be across from the door as it opened, and waited – grenade in one hand, the index finger of his other hand looped through the circular metal trigger of the safety pin. The few seconds it took for the door to be unlocked and to start opening seemed to take forever! His heart raced furiously as the adrenaline rushed through his veins, his mind swirling rapidly with thoughts of being blown up into pieces, yet he stood his ground and waited. As the door finally started swinging open, letting in the sharp light of an LED torch, he pulled the pin and tossed the small grenade through the opening, where it clanked noisily onto the cement floor beyond. He instantly dived back towards the corner where Jade and Marcelo were positioned, the anticipation of what would follow like a biting monkey on the back of his neck!

### Chapter 24

There were startled shouts from outside the metal room, confusion that soon turned to fear, as keys were dropped and the running sound of feet began. It wasn't quick enough, though, as the enormous bang and flash of light that followed resonated through the metal room they were in, resounding off the walls, waves of incredible pressure in the tiny prison! Luckily the sound was all that penetrated the metal walls, but Blake could hear the thud-thudding of shrapnel as it slammed the outside of them, followed by the screaming and then by silence.

It had worked! Blake quickly pulled Jade to her feet, and then gestured for her to help him with Marcelo, as they hoisted him up. He had started coming to now, the enormous bang had apparently helped him regain some of his senses, but he was still fairly groggy.

"Come on!" Blake led them towards the open door, kicking it ajar with one foot as they approached. They stepped out of the solid darkness and into a much more manageable one, where the pale light of the fading moon was managing to stream through several of the windows along the smoke-filled hallway. The grenade had done severe damage to the hallway immediately outside of their prison cell, a large black patch of burnt concrete radiated out from the centre of the floor and up the opposing wall. One of the Cleaners, the unlucky one who had been sent to collect the prisoners, no doubt, had been cut in half by the explosion, and the sight of the bloody and mangled torso separated so strangely from its lower extremities sent a chill down Blake's spine, but at the same time an almost peaceful sense of relief and justice took its place. These men, these mercenaries, were only here to harm the ones he loved, and he was not about to feel remorse for them.

They rushed past the bloody mess of the man, and then past the corpse of another, as they made their way down the hallway towards the stairs. The explosion had created the disorientation and confusion that Blake had hoped for, and he was taking advantage of this as he led the three of them into the stairwell, hoping with all his heart that they had bought enough time to make it out of the building, back through the scrapyard and then into the brick plant next door – there was a gate and a road and a car waiting for them! But even before he had reached the ground floor and they had burst through into the ghostly factory below, he could hear the shouts and scrambling of a small army re-assembling above and behind them. The Cleaners were coming, and they were pissed!

"We'll never make it." Marcelo grunted, as they stumbled across the dirty floor beneath the metal ghosts of dilapidated conveyer equipment. "Leave me here. Take Jade!"

"Fuck that." Blake grunted. "We go together."

"I can fight them off." Marcelo said. "I can give you guys a chance."

"I said we go together, old man."

"They're coming!" Jade yelled, glancing backwards at the dark stairwell from which they had just exited, as the sound of running feet reached them.

Blake stopped running, dropping Marcelo to the ground, while Jade crouched over him. He turned and pulled out the other grenade from a second pocket, instantly pulling the pin and tossing it into the opening of the stairwell. He crouched down beside his friends, as the blinding white and orange glare of the explosion was followed by another deafening scrunch of sound. If there had been any Cleaners close behind them, or in the stairwell, they were dead.

"Let's go!"

Marcelo brushed Blake's outstretched arm away, pushing himself up from the floor. He seemed to have regained most of his composure, but Blake could only imagine the headache he must have right now!

"We need a gun." Marcelo said.

"They took them all." Blake replied.

"Then we have to run."

The two men nodded in agreement at each other, and then they grabbed Jade by the arm and led her towards the pale rectangle of light in the distance which indicated the doorway out of the factory and into the junkyard beyond. Their exit was ironically noisy, an exact opposite of their entrance earlier, which had been stealthy and silent. Right now they were more concerned with avoiding certain death, than with trying to hide their exit with any means of stealth. They were barely a few feet from the door that led to freedom before the cracking sound of bullets whizzing past their heads began. They sought cover behind a nearby stack of old wooden pallets, as automatic gunfire rained down on them. Pieces of splintered wood filled the air, along with Jade's quiet yelps of fear as Blake tried to protect her with his arms.

"Fuck, we're trapped!" Blake hissed.

"We need a distraction." Marcelo barked. "If we can get to the door, we might make it all the way to the car."

Blake looked up at the tired eyes of Marcelo Vega, where he sat with his back to the wall of wooden pallets behind which they crouched. His head was swollen and his face red and puffy, covered in sweat. He could see a fierce determination in his eyes, an intensity and a sense of responsibility towards his Amplifier – as if the Ka fathers would never forgive him for getting such a precious gift killed – or worse yet, caught. The absolute sense of failure that resonated from the older man's body touched Blake's heart. He couldn't dare imagine how devastating it would be for this proud man to have to suffer such embarrassment. Blake had his hand on the back of Jade's neck, and his forefinger was touching the artery that ran down the side of her neck. He could feel every pulse of her heartbeat, as precious human blood was pumped through her body. She was from another world, another galaxy. She was a species that he could only imagine, yet right now, right here, she was human and she was his.

He saw what happened next as if he were an eyewitness, watching from above in slow motion. He watched as the Blake below pushed Jade down towards the floor, simultaneously reaching over at Marcelo and lifting him up by the vest. He couldn't take his eyes away as this Blake leapt out from behind the pallets, screaming wildly at the invisible enemy, while simultaneously yelling for Marcelo and Jade to make a run for the door. As the first bullet grazed his cheek, he seemed to rush back into his own body, into his own mind, and as he did the realisation of the moment slammed into him the way an ice-cold wave would if he had been standing in the ocean at Orient Beach. The cracking of bullets and the smell of gunfire, the protesting yells from his friend behind him, and above all this, the heart-wrenching scream of the woman he loved, all cascaded over him in his new reality. He chose not to look back, facing the unseen enemy instead, accepting the fate that was his to come.

Idris appeared then, rushing forward through the smoke from the stairwell, automatic rifle raised in front of him as he fired wildly towards them. Blake smiled, opening his arms to receive the death that beckoned, ready to die. Instead of bullets piercing his skin, however, he felt Jade's tiny hands as they folded around him from behind. He was shaking his head, screaming for her to leave the warehouse with Marcelo, but she held on tightly, refusing to let go. Before he could reach down and grab her wrists to loosen her grip, he felt the sensation as it built up in his gut. That sensation.

The Trembling.

It seemed like an apt description for the after-effects that would come, that sense of adrenalin rush that wore off eventually, leaving the body shaking uncontrollably in the aftermath of exertion. The Trembling built up quickly within him, propelled by the beautiful woman behind him, rushing upwards through his body, through every vein, every nerve. It erupted from his outstretched arms as if they were the barrels of twin rocket-launchers. The intense force of the power that exploded outwards almost sent him reeling backwards, but Jade's tight grip on him from behind kept him steady. The bullets that were flying towards him were immediately tossed aside by the powerful eruption of invisible... something... while the surprised look on Idris face as he was lifted off the ground and hurled upwards and back towards the stairwell was priceless, and probably the first time Blake had seen fear and confusion in those hardened features. The moment the flailing man disappeared from view into the shadowy recess of the stairwell, the Trembling subsided, and Blake found himself panting heavily, acutely aware of Jade's shaking form as she released him.

"Go!" Marcelo's voice spurred them both into action, and they turned and rushed for the open doorway a few feet away.

Blake could feel the cool night air as it drafted through the opening, and the sky outside seemed to be lightening, as dawn fast approached. Jade was a few feet in front of him, and he was about to reach out and grab her arm to guide her through the doorway, when she jerked forward suddenly, as if she had tripped, while the deafening crack of a passing bullet had Blake's ear singing loudly in protest at almost the same instant that he felt the icy warmth in his right shoulder. Almost instantly the blood gushed from Jade's neck, and she collapsed helplessly to the floor. Blake followed suit, using his body to protect her.

Marcelo, who had been in front, turned and leapt over them as they went down, immediately removing the two grenades in his vest pockets, and pulling both pins with his teeth as he charged towards the shooter behind them. Blake turned his head to watch as Marcelo hurled the two metal objects towards the stairwell, and for a moment he caught a glimpse of Idris Mdoda as he turned and ran off to the right towards the southern end of the building. The grenades bounced loudly on the cement floor, a strange sound that echoed through the long room, before they disappeared in an enormous blast of bright orange light and deafening chaos. Blake couldn't tell if Idris had been in the path of the blast or not, but the shockwave of the explosion had sent Marcelo flying backwards towards them, so he had to assume that the animal had also been affected, hopefully injured or killed. As the smoke cleared and the ringing in his ears subsided, Blake lifted his head to see Marcelo stumbling to his feet and limping hurriedly off in the direction in which Idris had run.

Left alone with Jade, he focused his attention on her motionless body, almost crying out in agony at the sight of the blood that pulsed violently from her torn neck, coating both of them in its crimson sneer.

### Chapter 25

Blake cradled Jade in his arms, the pain from the gunshot wound in his shoulder forgotten now, as he focused all his attention on her limp and almost lifeless body. The warehouse had gone quiet, returning to the abandoned state it had been in before the all-out war of the past few minutes. Had it really only been minutes? It had felt like hours to Blake, yet even as he thought about what had happened, the details were drifting away like smoke in a dream. All he knew for certain was that the woman, the being, he loved, the one he had risked everything to save, was bleeding out in his arms, and there was nothing he could do about it. He had felt pain before - pain of the heart - he had felt it when his father had passed, and more recently when his mother had been murdered... but the thought of losing Jade felt as if he were losing a part of his own soul, as if the very fabric of his DNA were being ripped to shreds and scattered in the wind. The love he felt for her... despite everything he had learnt in the past few hours... it was deeper than any human emotion - it was universal and eternal, and it hurt the same way.

He hardly noticed the loud scurry of footsteps as Marcelo re-joined them, panting heavily.

"Blake. We have to get out of here."

Marcelo Vega placed his hand on Blake's shoulder, a tender gesture which seemed so out of character for him, and Blake glanced up at him, slightly dazed and unable to shake that overpowering sensation of helplessness that he felt right now.

"We can't move her and I'm not leaving without her." Blake said defiantly. "There must be something we can do."

"There isn't." Marcelo sighed. "Aside from the fact that the lead-content in this place is too high, my own healing abilities are not enough... not for this. Jade was the one with the Amplifier abilities. I'm just a Protector - a simple soldier."

Blake looked up angrily at the man. "Well, you've done a pretty fucked up job then."

Marcelo seemed genuinely hurt by the insult, and opened his mouth as if to respond, but then closed it instead and looked away, as if understanding Blake's anger.

"What about Idris?" Blake asked, instantly regretting his outburst. "Is he dead?"

Marcelo shook his head. "He got away. But he'll be back. We have to go."

"There must be something we can do for her!" Blake cried.

"I wish there was, believe me. In the end, it's her destiny. She has done enough for this world. Allow her to leave."

"Enough? If it's her destiny, then it seems like a pretty pointless existence. And at what cost? So she can end up dying for a cause that only you and your kind believe in? For the sake of an ungrateful humanity?" Blake held back a tear as he looked down at Jade's beautiful face.

Marcelo sighed, and after a moment he crouched down beside Blake, looking him directly in the eyes.

"I know you're hurting." He said gently. "Even though she wasn't my real daughter, we've spent the past eighteen human years together. She's as much a part of my family as she could ever be. She was not just my assignment... she was my friend too."

Blake sighed, shaking his head forlornly. "I know, Marcelo. I'm sorry. This is just so... unfair. We can't let her die."

"We can't stop it either. It's the human way."

The words penetrated deeply, and Blake had to swallow hard to get them down.

The human way.

He had discovered more about his own species in the past few hours than he had learnt in all his years of life or from any book or museum. The fact that visitors from another galaxy had to be the ones to show him the truth about humanity was both ironic and in a way fitting. Were we, as a race, so blinded by greed and industry and self-preservation that we failed to realize we were creating our own unhappiness? That we were inviting our own misery? The human way was what had brought Jade to this planet in the first place. Her species were trying to save us, trying to rescue us from ourselves. Earth had become the Sodom and Gomorrah from the Bible - on the brink of self-destruction again, rotting out from the inside \- and these kind souls from another universe were only trying to keep us from looking back and turning into salt, weeding out the truly evil souls and in the process making the world a better place, yet we hunted them down and wanted to dissect them to prove our superiority and satisfy our curiosity? Who were the real monsters here? The human way, indeed.

"So that's it?" Blake asked. "After everything she's done here, it ends like this, on the cold concrete floor of this warehouse? We just leave her here? To die?"

"For this body, yes, it does end here."

Blake felt his heart skip a beat. "What do you mean, for this body?"

Marcelo shrugged. "The human bodies we inhabit are simply vessels. Transporters, if you like. They are not immortal. We're not supposed to be around long enough for them to be, anyway. This one has been an exception - an unexpected extension."

"Immortal? Are you telling me that you and Jade were... are...?"

"Well, immortal in the sense that our lifespan essentially equates to a hundred human lifetimes. We are also born, we live and then we die. It just takes a lot longer, that's all - and it takes a lot more than a few bullets to kill us."

"Hold on." Blake lay Jade down gently and stood up to face Marcelo. "You're saying she would still be alive in there - even after the body dies, when it does?"

"Essentially." Marcelo replied. "But it's her fate for now - her prison."

"That's bullshit." Blake yelled. "Why can't she just leave that body? She got herself in there in the first place."

"Entering our chosen vessel on earth is an easy procedure - one that is done when we arrive and when we are still in our original form. Exiting the same vessel is virtually impossible, without the assistance of the Fathers. It's a defence mechanism from involuntarily revealing ourselves to your species."

"So how do we contact them? If they can help, how do we reach these Fathers of yours?"

"What do you think we have been trying to do for the past eighteen years? Our ship was destroyed, and the communicator technology along with it. That is the only way to let our species know we are still alive after all these years. The Fathers have assumed we are lost, and have abandoned us and this planet forever."

Blake closed his eyes. His head was pounding suddenly, and he was feeling faint and a bit disoriented. The gunshot wound in his shoulder was still bleeding profusely, and he figured he'd lost a fair amount of blood thus far. Too much, perhaps?

"We have to do something." He cried. "Anything... to save her."

"It's over, Blake." Marcelo sighed. "It's too late. The whole reason we came to this planet in the first place was to balance things out. Without Jade, it's pointless. I do not have the power she had, and you are just a human, no offence. There is nothing left to fight for, and the Fathers will not risk another one of our kind being captured just to rescue a Protector such as myself. We are... disposable, for lack of a better word. We accept that fact the day we are born. The Fathers will not return to earth for me alone. It is the Ka way. Always has been."

"What about her?" Blake asked angrily, gesturing at Jade's unmoving body. "They will return for her, right?"

"If she were able to communicate with them, perhaps, but she is just a prisoner now, and soon she will be forgotten too."

"What happens to her?" Blake asked, shaking his head. "What happens to her if her body dies?"

"According to the creed, she will remain in the body for a long time. Long after it has been buried by your people, invisible to the human eye. After time she will feel the calling to a new body - a body in need of a soul. A new-born originally destined not to live past the womb, but given a second chance by our interference. That is the only way a Ka soul can re-inhabit another body after the death of the vessel. The only way!" he emphasised. "And the sacrifice is that any memories of life as a Ka soul are gone forever - muddled by the confusion of humanity's birth rituals. It's just a theory, though. Legend, perhaps. For all I know the whole thing could be a myth and she will just die."

"You're talking about re-incarnation essentially? She'll be reborn to some random person in the world, and she'll forget about us? I can't let that happen." Blake cursed angrily. "And I can't believe that she isn't inside that dying body right now, fighting with everything she has to get out - to get back to us. To get back to me! What about healing? Could she heal herself somehow, from within? The way you did to your hand?"

"Not here. Not alone, anyway. If there were other Amplifiers still left on this planet, they could have helped to heal her vessel, it's a procedure in this case, in this place, that would require two, but those that were lucky enough left the moment we were exposed so long ago. It was another Ka protocol decision to avoid detection. How many times have I said it, Blake? We are alone here."

Flashes of memory from the past two weeks raced through Blake's mind - scenes and pictures and sounds, like the sound of Jade's laughter, the image of the first time he'd laid eyes on her that day on the side of the road, the sensation of her lips on his, the gentle touch of her hand in his at the funeral, even the sensations of the Trembling, right back to the first encounter with Road Rage Man - those warm tentacles of strange electricity that had coursed through his body via Jade, through his veins, through his hands, through his soul...

Oh my God. The thought slammed into him unexpectedly.

"What if she's not alone?" Blake asked suddenly, turning to face Marcelo.

"What do you mean?"

"What if I actually have absorbed some of her power, her amplification abilities, as you call it?"

Marcelo chuckled. "I explained this to you already, Blake. It's impossible. You have never had the power - not once. What you thought were things you were making happen, were actually just instances of Jade projecting in your presence. She was the one sending the Trembling out, she was the one saving your life, protecting you... not the other way around."

"Yes... every time we were in danger, there is a possibility that she did that, even today. I know. I understand that, but what about the one time that I wasn't with her? The one time I wasn't in danger?" Blake asked seriously.

"What are you talking about?" Marcelo frowned.

"I completely forgot about it until right now. I projected something onto a woman at the liquor store a few days ago, a sad woman who was at her wits end... spending her last money on Lotto scratch cards. I felt her sadness - I somehow saw her past and future... I felt it. I sensed her loneliness and her suffering. Jade was not with me then. And that sensation - that energy, it was real. I projected the Trembling, or whatever you want to call it, onto her, and she won money. She won a lot of money. I made that happen. I changed her life. Me. Alone."

"That's impossible." Marcelo replied. "It doesn't work like that. Amplifiers cannot pass their ability on to others... it just doesn't happen. You can't be created..." He paused then, swallowing hard, and Blake immediately frowned at his sudden awkward silence.

"What is it?"

"There is one other possibility..." Marcelo breathed, shaking his head distractedly.

"Tell me." Blake spat, stepping forward in desperation. "What is it?"

Marcelo lunged forward suddenly, catching Blake by surprise. He wrapped his strong hands around Blake's neck and ran him backwards, slamming him hard into the concrete wall of the building. Blake felt his lungs take the brunt of the impact, and he gasped for breath, a task made even more difficult by the enraged man's strong hands wrapped around his neck.

"What the fuck!" He tried to yell, but the words were a squeal as his vocal chords were constricted to the point where he could barely breathe.

Marcelo leaned in towards Blake, and for an absurd moment Blake thought he was going to kiss him, but instead he placed his forehead against Blake's, pressing hard against it, as if he were trying to crush it with his own. Blake struggled furiously, but he was no match for the immense power of the man - and the soul behind the man. Just when he thought he was going to black out, Blake felt the first tiny prickle of electricity in his belly - the familiar sensation he had experienced so many times recently - the sensation that he had been led to believe had been due to being in the same proximity as Jade - yet she wasn't strong enough to be doing that right now, he was here alone - and incredibly the Trembling was still there! It snaked upwards through his innards, caressing each vein, each artery, each cell, until it felt as if a fire were starting in his gut. It covered his heart, his lungs, and his throat, travelling up through his brain and slamming into the back of the skull behind his forehead. It didn't stop there - it seemed to penetrate his cranium, slice through his bone, and then it was free - and he found himself facing a creature that hovered there in darkness that was Marcelo's mind, surrounded by a golden pulsating light.

Blake could see the soul that was Marcelo, as if he were staring at the human version of the man in real life, except this time he was staring at the creature from a distant galaxy that inhabited the man's body instead. It wasn't any shape that he could compare it to, except perhaps for the slightest resemblance to a small, fiery, ever-changing dragon - a glowing mass of electric veins and arteries - each one alive with tiny pinpricks of radiant golden light which pulsed and swirled repeatedly. It was so beautiful, so incredibly breath-taking - and somehow so familiar. And then it spoke...

Brother...

### Chapter 26

The word was spoken, yet not spoken. It seemed to emanate from within the dragon-shape that was facing him, from around him, from nowhere. It was a language that he had never heard before, yet he found he understood it completely. He found himself nodding subconsciously back at the fiery entity that represented Marcelo.

It's good to see you again.

How long has it been?

Six human lifetimes - too long.

You were trapped here, this whole time?

I tried reaching out... This vessel was the first one allowing me to - in a small way - but it's very difficult. If it wasn't for the Amplifier... she felt me in there somehow... perhaps subconsciously. She has awoken me at last. She is important, brother.

To this world?

And to me. As you know.

I am only her Protector. I cannot heal her vessel in this place. But you can. You are an Amplifier?

Yes. I can try.

Then bring her home to us.

And this human? This Blake vessel?

What of him?

He must not remember this. He must not remember me?

That would be better. These humans are so fragile - mentally.

Will he co-operate?

Yes.

How can you be sure?

Because he is in love with the girl.

I understand.

Will you help us?

Yes.

Blake felt himself retreating from the Ka soul of Marcelo, felt himself being pulled backwards into his own body, inhabiting the smallest cells of it again, filling it with the weak humanity of pain and nerves again. The weight of the body on his soul seemed impossible, and it was hard for him to believe that he had been able to carry this uncomfortable mass of meat and bone that signified the human form around for so many lifetimes, but it was something that you quickly became accustomed to, he discovered, yet also something that was soon forgotten... like the memory of what had just happened - dissipating remnants of a dream after waking.

When his vision cleared he was sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall, holding his throat in pain, the wound in his shoulder throbbing painfully. His head was fuzzy - as if there were something he was supposed to remember, something that had just happened, but for the life of him he couldn't remember what it was. Marcelo sat a few feet away from him, arms across his raised knees - staring silently back at him.

"Are you okay?" he asked eventually.

"What the fuck, man?" Blake croaked. "You could've killed me."

"I'm sorry."

"That's all? You're sorry? What were you trying to prove?"

"I just had to see for myself."

"See what?"

Marcelo smiled uncomfortably, and then glanced over at where Jade lay. "You were right. Jade may have passed some of her power onto you. A tiny little bit - but enough."

"How do you know?"

"We can... sense it. Our species."

"By choking someone to death? Very subtle."

"Yet surprisingly effective." Marcelo smiled, and then nodded towards where Jade lay. "Are you ready?"

"I wouldn't know what to do."

"I'll guide you."

Blake stood up and walked slowly over to Jade's motionless body. Her skin was cold to the touch now, and her face had lost most of its colour from the blood loss. She looked so peaceful, and beautiful - even in semi-death, Blake thought as he sat down beside her and lifted her head into his lap, her breath the faintest whisper across his face.

"Will this work?"

"If you have even a small part of the Trembling in you, then it may be enough to get past the lead in this place - with her help. Place your hands on her temples. Gently."

Blake did as Marcelo had instructed, placing a hand on either side of Jade's head, at a point just above her ears.

"If you truly believe you have the Trembling in you, then you will be able to coax the Ka that is in Jade awake. She sleeps now, a natural reaction to the dying stage of her vessel. You need to convince her to wake up. Convince her to heal herself using your own Ka as well."

"You have more of it in you than me, surely? No offence either, but you're the alien. Why don't you try?"

"I have the Ka of the Protector, not the Amplifier. My attempts would be useless. Concentrate. We don't have much time. If the body dies there is nothing we can do to bring her back!"

Blake sighed, and then closed his eyes. He thought back to the day this had all begun, to the late afternoon roadside on the N2 near Gonubie. To the first moment he had seen Jade's beautiful green eyes, been blown away by her smile, the way the wind kissed her hair... back to the sensation of her skin on his when they first shook hands. He moved the memory forward, to the angry man in the BMW, the black aura of his anger spilling out of the car like it was on fire, and the intense heat of his hateful words as he leaned over the two of them, the oppressive sensation of his hurtful intentions oozing out of every pore. Blake relived the sensation of the electrical fingers that built up from inside his belly, caressing each organ on the way up his torso, down his arm and into his hands... the prickly pins-and-needles effect of those thousands of tiny electrical currents as they raced through his pores and out through his skin - radiating towards the imposing figure of Road Rage Man - except this time they were radiating towards the dying body of Jade Vega, like ripples on a still pond.

Blake could almost see the force that was emanating from his palms; he could almost smell it and feel the heat of it as it coursed out of him and into Jade's unconscious head. He focused his entire being on reaching out to the alien soul inside the comatose human body, on finding it where it slept in there, on waking it up. He knew instantly when he had succeeded. Even in his mind he could feel her touch, the soft caress of her mind against his own. The electrical jolt of two opposing forces, competing for each other's attention and finally merging to become one. She was even more beautiful in this form. He could not see her. But he could feel her - sense her. He could feel her absolute and pure beauty, and her love. He could feel that the most.

"Wake up, Jade." He whispered in his mind. "It's time to go home."

The forces inside the girl's body seemed to fight against this for a moment, he could feel them pulling away from his probing, but he coaxed them gently back towards him.

"I love you, Jade. I always will, and somehow it's as if I always have."

The Ka of her soul pulsed suddenly, a tiny wave of energy which he felt throughout his own body, like a lonely heartbeat where before there had been only silence. His elation only spurred him on, and he focused on increasing the flow of energy from his hands to her head, the result being another pulse. And then another. And finally it was pulsing repeatedly, beating rhythmically, alive and strengthening.

He opened his eyes to see the colour returning to her cheeks. The pale white slowly blushed into life, a delicate pink, as her lips reddened and her skin warmed against his lap. The gaping wound in her neck started closing up, and it was an unbelievable sight, the way the skin pulled together, stitching itself invisibly, while the blood that had spilled out from her body began flowing back to it impossibly, cleaning itself from the dirt and debris on the floor before entering her willing artery. He closed his hands, placed them on the ground, afraid to touch her for fear of interrupting the process and losing her for good. After several moments, she moved her head briefly, before opening her startling green eyes and looking up at Blake. He felt intense emotion flood over him, and swallowed hard to keep it down. She was breathing normally, and moving... she was whole again.

"Hey." She said, her voice hoarse and dry.

"Hey" he replied.

"What happened?"

"It's a long story."

Jade tried to sit up, and Blake assisted her, worried that she'd pass out, but she seemed to have regained most of her composure. She looked around anxiously.

"What happened to Idris?"

"He got away." Blake said, placing a comforting hand on the back of her neck. "He'll be back, I'm sure - but not for a while, not today, at least."

Jade looked over at where Marcelo was standing. She smiled briefly at him. He nodded in reply, a silent understanding between the two of them as if they had been through this a hundred times.

"So we have to go." Jade said. "Idris will be back, with more Cleaners. He knows we're exposed now. We have to disappear again - a new city, a new life, whatever it takes. It's the only way."

"Not this time." Blake shook his head defiantly. "This time you're not running away from anything. We have to fight back."

"We?"

Blake shrugged. "I'm as much a part of you now as you are of me. Where you go, I go, remember? I've lost you once already; I'm not letting it happen twice."

Jade smiled and leaned in against his chest. "You do realize that what you're suggesting is crazy, right? Running away is what we do best - we've been doing it for a lifetime."

"And that's exactly what they will expect you to do again." Blake smiled. "But we're going at them head on. Surprise is the only advantage we have. We are not the only one's weakened right now. Idris Mdoda is too!"

Jade looked across at Marcelo in confusion, frowning. "You're in agreement with this crazy human's plan?"

"I have little choice." Marcelo smiled. "He can be quite convincing when he wants to be."

"There has to be something we can do, something we've overlooked." Blake added. "I need you guys to think!"

"There might be one thing." Jade said, brushing off the sceptical look she received from Marcelo. "A working Communicator that might still exist. But it doesn't mean I think your plan is any less crazy."

Blake helped Jade to her feet. She was still unsteady, but strong enough to stand with his assistance. She touched him gently on his blood-soaked shoulder.

"You're bleeding. We have to get you to a hospital."

Blake nodded. "That can wait. Where is this Communicator? How do we find it?"

"Later." Jade said. "Let's get you fixed up first."

"Hey." Blake said, placing his hand beneath her chin and lifting her head to look into her eyes. "I'm okay. I'm really okay now. Have I told you that I love you lately?"

"Yes." she whispered back, smiling. "But not nearly enough times."

Marcelo grunted beside them, and they both smiled in his direction as they embraced.

"Let's go." He said impatiently.

"So you think you're ready for this?" Jade asked, supporting Blake with her shoulder under his arm as they turned to leave.

"Born ready." He grimaced.

They shuffled towards the grey light which indicated the exit door from the cold warehouse, their arms wrapped tightly around each other as if neither one ever wanted to let go again, while Marcelo walked a few feet behind and to the left of them, the faithful protector of the last Amplifier's precious gift, and now also of a newer, yet disturbingly familiar soul. A soul who was turning out to be more important than anyone could have imagined he would be. But that was a secret he would need to keep to himself for now - it would only do harm if either of them discovered the real truth. He was absolutely convinced of that.

### Chapter 27

They reached the Vega's house a little after seven a.m. Marcelo scouted the property before they entered, just to make sure Idris hadn't gone ahead to meet them there, but it was all clear and exactly as they had left it several hours earlier. He was certain that they had bought some time by eliminating most, if not all, of the Cleaners, and that Idris would probably need to bring in more troops before he came for them again, as he, more than anyone else, realised he could never take them on alone. Jade was really concerned about Blake's gunshot wound, and she fretted over him the entire way, insisting Marcelo drive. By the time they finally entered the house she forced Blake to lie on the bed while she gingerly removed his shirt to examine the wound more closely.

"You're lucky." She said, after a few minutes. "It looks like the same bullet that hit me in the neck first went right through your shoulder, missing the bone."

"So I'll live." Blake smiled.

"And thanks to you, so will I." Jade frowned. "If you hadn't been in the way that bullet may have..."

"Hey." Blake placed his hand on her leg, sensing that a cloud of self-blame had started forming. "It's all over now. You're fine. I'm fine..."

"You've still lost a lot of blood. I'm going to treat the wound with some antiseptic and bandage it up, but you will need to rest."

"There's no time to rest." Blake replied earnestly. "We need to get moving on finding the Communicator you spoke about. Is it the one from your ship?"

"Well, not exactly. Our ship was destroyed in South America, or taken to the US, I'm not sure, but I think I might know where to find another one."

"Another communicator?"

"Yes. And another ship."

Blake blinked, frowning. "Another ship? Where? How is that even possible?"

"As I said, we've been visiting this planet for thousands of years. We certainly weren't the first to crash-land, and I have an idea where another ship may have been hidden – hundreds of years ago, right here in South Africa."

"Really? Then why haven't you just looked for it before, and flown it out of here?"

"It's just a theory." Jade replied. "And I'm sure the ship itself is useless – but the Communicator might still be usable."

Marcelo cleared his throat at the door to Blake's bedroom, and they both looked at him in surprise.

"The Rosetta crash is a myth."

Jade shook her head. "No, it isn't. You know I've been begging you to take me there for years. This is our opportunity!"

"Rosetta crash?" Blake asked, intrigued.

Jade's eye seem to light up with excitement as she sat down next to Blake on the bed, as if this was one of her favourite points of discussion. "On October 30th, 1665 there were two separate accidents involving space craft belonging to our Ka brothers and sisters. One occurred, and was documented well, in upper Missouri in the United States, while the second, less publicised, occurred right here in South Africa, near Rosetta in Natal, somewhere in the lower Drakensberg. The locals called it the 'Rosetta Crash'. The exact location was a mystery, but I've been researching online reports and conspiracy theories for years, and I believe I can narrow it down to within a few kilometres. In 1956 a woman named Elisabeth Klarer reported being taken aboard a ship by extra-terrestrials in that same area, and I'm not saying she was or she wasn't, but it's a known fact that the presence of one of our Ka craft in an area can induce hallucinations, so this makes me believe the craft is somewhere close! The ship was never reported to have been discovered, and if so, it might still have a working Communicator, at the very least."

"It's nonsense." Marcelo grunted. "If the Communicator had been working, then the occupants would have signalled for help. They never did."

"That's if they survived the crash." Jade replied. "Which we're not sure they did."

"That's if they crashed at all." Marcelo said. "The Fathers believed they defected – you know that."

"Hold on a second." Blake sat up awkwardly, nursing his injured shoulder. "What makes either of you even think it was one of your ships? It could have been some other visitors, right? From some other planet?"

Marcelo and Jade looked at each other briefly, before both burst out in laughter. Blake's blank stare eventually had them composing themselves, before Marcelo sighed and explained.

"No offence, Blake, but as far as aliens go, we are still miles behind with regards to technology and species development. The closest race to this galaxy and to us probably wouldn't even waste their time coming here – to this sad planet – and even if for some curious reason they did, they certainly wouldn't need a spaceship to do it! If we seem like advanced life forms to you, then you can multiply that gap by a hundred to separate the Ka from any other existing species in the universe."

"I don't understand" Blake said, confused.

"Think of your evolutionary timeline." Marcelo explained. "The separation from your current human state to, say plankton, for example, is the separation from the Ka to the next evolved life form that exists. Plankton isn't very exciting to you, and neither are we to them – far less so are humans!"

"Geez, thanks." Blake said sarcastically. "You just destroyed thousands of years of belief that we were an advanced species."

"I'm afraid not." Marcelo chuckled. "But I'm sure you will get there someday."

"Okay, fine. So in that case what Jade is suggesting is worth a look, though, right?" Blake asked, glancing between the two of them. "I mean, come on! If there is even the smallest chance that we can find a working Communicator then surely the effort would be worth it? You could go home! Both of you."

"I say we pack up and move." Marcelo replied. "We've managed well enough all these years."

"What life is that?" Blake asked angrily. "Always running away, always looking over your shoulder? Idris finds you every time! How long before he finds you again? And what if he succeeds on the next attempt? What if one of you are killed?"

There was an uncomfortable silence following Blake's outburst.

"Blake is right." Jade said softly, looking at Marcelo with pleading eyes. "I'm done running. I'm tired of it."

"Fuck!" Marcelo slumped his shoulders. "This is going to be a complete waste of time, you know that, right?"

"Really?" Jade beamed. "We'll go?"

She leapt off the bed and hugged Marcelo tightly, despite his best attempts to avoid her affection.

"Okay, okay!" he groaned. "Yes, we'll go. But we do it my way. On my terms!"

"Of course." Jade smiled, hugging him one last time. "You've always protected me."

"And now I've got you and the schmuck to worry about."

Blake laughed out loud. "You know you've grown fond of me, Marcelo. Just admit it."

Marcelo grunted once more, turning away in disgust, but pausing at the door before adding: "Get packing then. We leave in an hour."

"Blake should rest." Jade protested.

"No, he's right." Blake intervened. "The sooner we leave, the better our chances of avoiding any contact with Idris. I'll get my rest in the car."

She seemed to accept this, and nodded. Marcelo disappeared from the room, and she returned to Blake's side.

"It's strange." She said, smiling sheepishly. "But now that I know you know the truth, it's as if a weight is lifted off my shoulders. I hated lying to you... hated every minute of it."

"I'll be honest." Blake replied. "At first it was difficult to swallow – this whole alien scenario – but the more I've thought about it, the more it's made sense. You were never just a normal girl to me. I knew that from day one."

"Thank you, Blake. For everything. You've given me something worth fighting for again."

They hugged each other, and Blake couldn't help but breathe in the flowery scent of her as she pressed against him. Her body and skin were warm to the touch, human in every aspect, but he almost believed he could sense the soul inside of her, could feel its life beneath his hands, and he tried to imagine what she would look like without the disguise of the vessel she lived in, but then he realised that he didn't care. It was her soul that he was in love with, not the flesh and bone that carried it, and that type of love was the most powerful!

The next forty minutes or so were spent hurriedly packing for their road trip, as each of them split up to gather the possessions they would need. Blake couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement as he threw his few meagre clothes into a sports bag. He suddenly felt as if life had a purpose now. Thinking back on his entire existence, oblivious to the wonders of the universe around him, pressing forward from meaningless day to meaningless day like millions of others – work and sleep, study and sleep, party and sleep... a never-ending cycle of repeated pointlessness. But now, knowing what he knew, how could he ever think of life in the same way again? Every minute was an adventure – a step into the unknown! Nothing would ever be normal again...

"Are you ready?" Jade asked from the doorway, and he turned to smile at her. She had changed into a summery dress, similar to the one she had worn on the day that they had met, and he couldn't help but allow his heart to skip a beat.

"Born ready." He said, once again.

She walked over to him, placing her hands around his neck and staring deeply into his eyes. "Thank you for doing this."

"Are you kidding? This is probably the most exciting thing that's ever happened to me in my entire life. Nobody would ever believe me, anyway, but it would make the most interesting conversation one day when I'm playing bridge with the rest of my old fart friends at the retirement home."

Jade chuckled. "I can just imagine! You do realise they'd just increase your meds, right?"

"Probably. But I'd tell the story anyway. A thousand times. The story of the boy who met a girl from another planet – and how she stole his heart."

"I think you've got it all mixed up." She smiled. "It's the other way around." She paused then, sadness briefly flirting with her features. "Do you think...?"

"What?" Blake asked, tilting his head curiously.

"Do you think your mother would have liked me – if she, you know, if she knew the truth?"

"Are you serious?" Blake pulled her close to him, squeezing her tight. "She would have loved you for loving me, no matter where you came from."

"I miss her." Jade sighed. "I can only imagine how you must feel."

"She's always going to be with me, no matter where I am in my life. She's always going to be with us."

"You know that we, um, borrow human bodies to be able to go unseen on this planet, right? I mean, I explained that?"

"Yes, sort of."

"Well, the girl whose body I borrowed – she was going to die. We always try and take a vessel that would have passed soon, that way, when we leave, our gift to them is healing – life. Jade Vega, the real one, had a tumour on her brain. She would have collapsed at school a week later and died instantly had we not crossed paths."

"So you saved her life..."

"Did I?" Jade frowned. "Do you know how often I think about my choices back then? The result of using her as a vessel has kept her body alive all these years, but I have to wonder what I've taken away from her at the same time. She was young and beautiful, and regardless of the fact that she would die, she could not have known that. I stole the last few days of her life – I stole it from her, from her family. It seems so wrong..."

"Hey." Blake tilted her head upwards with his forefinger. "You can't worry about things like that! At the time you did what needed to be done."

"I know. And Marcelo and I were desperate. He took the vessel of her uncle, an alcoholic who would develop liver failure in a few years and end up bleeding out at the kitchen table. They were conveniently in the same house, and we were in a hurry. It doesn't make me feel any less guilty about it all, you know?"

"Think about all the lives you have saved and changed for the good all these years." Blake replied. "You can never compare that with the few days you took from a dying child. Your actions, your deeds, they have so many positive ripple effects. Think about Road Rage Man's little boy – the one who would have been killed by him. That child is alive today because of you. He will grow up, he will have his own children – a blood line that would never have existed if you had not intervened. Who knows what great things his offspring might achieve one day? What you and Marcelo do, it is so beautiful. So selfless. Don't ever think otherwise."

She hugged him then, so hard that he thought she might crack a rib. The feel of her body against his was a sensation that he would never want to forget.

"We should go." She said, after they pulled apart.

"Yes."

Blake grabbed his bag and a black leather jacket that hung behind the door as they made their way out of the room. He waited for Jade as she collected her travelling bags, and then they met Marcelo as he opened the front door after loading the car with supplies.

"I've packed some food and sleeping bags – just in case. Let me grab my bag and we can leave."

They waited for him outside in the warm sun. A gentle breeze was blowing, cooling them. Marcelo locked up the house and then joined them.

"Ready?"

They nodded. Blake opened the rear door for Jade, before tossing Marcelo the keys and opening the passenger door up front. He paused before getting in, looking back at the house. It was another home he was leaving, unsure of whether he would ever see it again.

That seemed to be a trend, lately.

### Chapter 28

The little town of Rosetta is an almost unnoticeable village in mid Kwazulu-Natal, the next province over from the Eastern Cape. To get there they had to head north-east, through the former homeland of the Transkei and then via the coastal city of Durban, before heading inland past Pietermaritzburg. Somewhere between Howick and Mooiriver was where they would find the village. Jade showed Blake her notes that she had made about the place on her iPad, and then opened Google Maps to give Marcelo the directions he needed. It was going to be a long drive – at least 8 hours or so, and they had decided to drive straight through. She knew that finding the theoretical spacecraft was a long shot, probably the only chance they had, but she was choosing to be optimistic about the whole thing. The alternative was unimaginable. If there was nothing to find in Rosetta, they would have no choice but to take Marcelo's advice and run again.

She handed Blake a book taken from her rucksack.

"What is this?" he asked.

"It was written by Elizabeth Klarer in 1980. Her autobiography, all about her experiences with the alien life force, her abduction from Rosetta and subsequent impregnation."

"Really?"

"Hey – it might sound crazy, but you of all people should have an open mind."

Blake chuckled. "I guess you're right."

"Whether or not what she wrote really happened or not, the point is that she experienced something. If it was a result of the effects of one of our craft being hidden in the area, then you need to be looking out for clues as to its location more than anything."

"Beyond the Light Barrier." Blake read the title out loud. "Sounds exciting."

"I've drawn my own conclusions about the location, but I'm hoping if you read it you might be able to shed more light on my theories. Two minds are better than one, right?"

"I guess."

"But get some rest first." She added. "You're still recovering."

"I'm fine." Blake smiled. "Really."

"She's right." Marcelo said from the driver's seat. "There's going to be a bit of hiking involved. You'll need your energy."

"Fine." Blake sighed, placing the book in the vehicle's cubby hole. He repositioned the backrest of the seat slightly, and then lay back, staring up at the roof lining. Jade reached forward and ran her fingers gently through his hair, and he closed his eyes, enjoying the sensation. He doubted that he would get any sleep, though. He was too hyped up with all the happenings of the past few days, and the adrenaline seemed to be taking forever to leave his system. This was going to be a long drive!

* * *

It was the cessation of motion that caused him to open his eyes eventually. His head was heavy, as if he had just had a heavy night of drinking, and the throbbing in his temples was sending flashes of light across his vision. He couldn't remember falling asleep. He must have been more exhausted than he had initially imagined.

Marcelo engaged the hand brake and then punched him lightly on the shoulder.

"Welcome back."

Blake sat up groggily. "Where are we?"

"Durban. I'm going to refuel and Jade has gone to grab us something to eat."

Blake re-adjusted his seat and looked through the window. They had stopped at a filling station just off the N2 highway. The place had a grocery store and a Wimpy restaurant just off the forecourt. "Durban, really?"

"Yep."

"Jesus. I've been out for 6 hours then, at least! Why didn't you guys wake me?"

"I was tempted, believe me. You snore like a goddamn bear with sinus."

"I don't snore."

Marcelo grunted. "Okay. If you say so."

"Fuck, my head is killing me."

Marcelo reached into his pocket and handed Blake a small white envelope. "Take this. There's water in the shoppers bag on the back seat."

"What is it?"

"It's just a headache powder."

Blake nodded. "Thanks."

He followed the powder with a gulp of water, the cool wetness of it instantly relieving his parched throat. Jade returned just then, opening the door and climbing in.

"Hey sleepy-head!"

"Hey." Blake smiled back at her.

"How are you feeling?"

"Much better, I guess." Blake replied. "I just wish you'd woken me up earlier."

"Well, some wishes don't get granted. That's life." She smiled.

"Thanks Ghandi."

She slapped him on the back of his head. "Cheeky! Here."

He took the plastic bag from her, opening it to peer inside.

"It's just a burger and chips. And coffee."

"Yummy." Blake replied happily. "I'm fucking starved."

They pulled the car into a nearby parking area after Marcelo had finished refuelling, and then climbed out and sat at a table and bench to eat. It was late afternoon and the difference in humidity between the Eastern Cape and Kwazulu-Natal was instantly noticeable. The air was warm and stuffy, with not a breath of a breeze to be felt. Blake dived into his food eagerly, trying to remember the last time he had eaten anything. As they ate he sat watching both Marcelo and Jade. The old man was less grumpy than usual, and seemed content to be relaxing for a change, but Blake couldn't help but notice the way his eyes darted around the parking area and the filling station, watching the comings and goings of the travellers as if it were second nature. They had had their differences, but Blake had come to admire the man for what he had done and been through to protect his charge. Jade, on the other hand, was her usual carefree and spirited self. She kept her attention between Blake and the signs of nature around them, laughing at the way two birds were fighting over a piece of bread on the grass a few feet away, and then looking at Blake in that way... he couldn't quite explain it, but every time their eyes met he felt his heart skip a beat. Was this how it would be forever? This physical impact every time she looked at him? It was strange, and it was beautiful. As was she.

Forever. The word was bitter sweet. He knew that if their journey led to the discovery of the mythical Communicator thingy, that it would also lead to her departure – from this planet, from him. For the first time in his life he had fallen in love, real love. Would he be willing to give it up? To say goodbye? He knew it would hurt like crazy, but there was no doubt in his mind that when the time came he would be able to make that hard choice. Not because he did not love her with all of his being, but because he did.

"Do you want me to take over the driving?" Blake asked Marcelo, as they eventually packed up and headed back for the car. "My shoulder doesn't even hurt anymore. I could manage."

"No, it's okay." Marcelo replied. "I'm good."

"Are you sure? You've been at it for six hours already."

"It took almost five light years to get here from Ka in the first place. I think I can handle another two hours."

"You also crashed that time." Blake smiled, dodging Marcelo's darting glare. "I'm just saying!"

"Get in the car, dumbass."

They left the parking area via an onramp back onto the N2. The road signage indicated that they were 7km from Durban. A few kilometres ahead Marcelo took a turnoff to the R103 which would lead them to Pietermaritzburg. The food had filled them all, and Jade had lay down on the backseat and was dozing off to sleep. Marcelo didn't look like he was going to be any fun conversation for the next few hours, and the passing scenery of banana plantations – while beautiful – were not going to hold his attention for long, so Blake took out the book by Elizabeth Klarer and opened it up. One of the first few pages was titled 'A symbol of man reaching for the moon', and the foreword began with 'For as long as man has lived in this world, from the days when he lived in a cave, he has searched for knowledge.'

"That's true." Blake mumbled. He paged over to the first chapter and started reading.

We were feeding our Sealyham puppies in the stable yard when we saw it. The Sun had just gone down behind the Drakensberg and the early summer sky of the Natal midlands was clear and rain-washed after the storm had passed. The guinea fowl were calling to each other as they prepared to roost in the wattle tree that grew near the house. Suddenly, they stopped calling—and my sister and I both saw it at the same time. An enormous silvery disk swooped down toward us, moving with a changing brightness out of the clear expanse of sky—a globe of light as clear as a pearl. Fascinated, we watched it manoeuvre over us, while the puppies left their food and ran yelping into the kennel.

Then suddenly another huge sphere fell out of the sky, rolling down toward us, glowing orange-red and rotating slowly as it came, pockmarked with craters like the Moon. A fiery and terrifying planetoid was silently and gracefully sweeping through the upper reaches of Earth's atmosphere, and as it slowly rotated, suspended on its course toward us, the silvery disk moved with a flash of light and paced beside it in a slow passage across the sky until the planetoid moved out of the Sun's rays to the north, leaving a long, thick trail like smoke across the heavens.

We both ran for the house, my heart thumping so loudly against my ribs that I was quite breathless when we reached the wide veranda where our parents were sitting, enjoying the evening tranquillity. My sister told them what we had seen in breathless snatches of excitement—two small children with white, excited faces trying to tell of something fantastic in the sky. My father got up and walked to the edge of the long veranda and looked up into the sky.

"Perhaps it was a meteor," he said.

The wide stoep, peculiar to South African farmhouses, hid the sky with its sloping roof, and the view was across a beautiful expanse of lawns with great oaks and pine trees; the home park with brilliant flowers in long beds, azaleas and rhododendrons massed among the trees; and beyond, to the hills and the mountains of the Dragon.

"No, no," I insisted when I got my breath again. "Something out there saved Earth, our beautiful planet, from a ravening, desolate asteroid intent on a collision course and destruction."

Blake paused here. A frown had creased his forehead as he read that last sentence. Elizabeth Klarer, according to the introduction in the book, was extremely well-respected world-wide with regards to her experiences and interaction with an extra-terrestrial race, to the point where she had received standing ovations at the International Congress of UFO Research in Germany at one point. Most people would have written her recount off as pure hallucination or even madness, but Blake saw it differently. He was reading these words as a man who had witnessed the existence of beings from other planets with his own eyes, and the power of those words had surprised him!

Something out there saved Earth, our beautiful planet, from a ravening, desolate asteroid intent on a collision course and destruction.

These beings that she and her sister had encountered had apparently just saved the earth from being destroyed. They hadn't come to wage war, or to invade! They were protecting the planet and protecting the species that inhabited it... he couldn't help but draw the similarities between Elizabeth's tale and what he already knew about the purpose of Jade and Marcelo and the hundreds of other Ka through the course of human history. Could there actually be merit in this tale? The thought excited him immensely, and he soon found himself so deeply immersed in the book that he lost all track of time!

In one section, Elizabeth wrote of her talk with Ladam, who was her father's farm headman, a wise and respected Zulu native from the area who was tasked with keeping an eye on her. He said:

"Once upon a time, a man and a woman came down from the sky on a cloud and alighted upon a hilltop. They were white and shining, with hair of gold. Their village is said to be lighted by a mightier light than any on this world. The people wear shining clothes and the huts are thatched with shining grass. They were caught up to heaven again by a flash of lightning."

The similarities between what the old Zulu was speaking of, and what Blake himself knew of the Ka – always arriving in pairs, a woman and a man – the Amplifier and the Protector – were truly fascinating. The rest of the book described in detail her abduction years later, and if it truly was an autobiography, he had to admit the woman had lived a gloriously exciting life! Before Blake knew it they car was coming to a stop again, he had been so engrossed in the book he had hardly noticed the time passing!

"Where are we?" Blake asked, but even as he looked up he immediately knew the answer. The majestic Drakensberg Mountain – the mountain of the Dragon – stood majestically as a backdrop to the tiny village ahead of them. The rolling hills were covered in beautiful wild flowers, and looking at the scene he could almost believe he had stepped right into the pages of Elizabeth's book! This was the most beautiful place he had ever seen!

"Welcome to Rosetta." Marcelo grunted. "Here be aliens."

"Hey!" Jade moaned from the backseat. "Don't be a dick. What do you think, Blake?" She poked her head between the seats, smiling broadly at him.

"I think we found the light barrier." He smiled.

"I know, right? It's exactly as Elizabeth describes in her book! Now we just need to find the hilltop she spoke of. The one where she first saw the ship."

"It's a waste of time." Marcelo muttered. "We could have been halfway around the world by now."

"Or we could be days from home." Jade replied softly, a sense of awe in the soft tone of her voice.

### Chapter 29

The little village was not much more than a short main road, with a couple of streets branching off into tiny residential areas. Most of the houses appeared to have remained unchanged for the past hundred years or so, built with stone and plastered roughly. It was theorised that the town got its name from the similarities between the local Mooi River when in flood, and the Rosetta branch of the Nile River, dividing just north of Cairo, Egypt. There was one local mall, tiny in comparison to any that might be found in the bigger cities in South Africa, but enough to service the surrounding community. Blake was certain that shopping was not a reason to visit Rosetta, rather to bathe in the glorious beauty of the nearby Drakensberg Mountain, an escape from the hustle and bustle of the concrete jungle when the heart yearned for rural magnificence. According to the internet, Rosetta was less than an hour from one of the most impressive waterfalls in Kwazulu-Natal – Giant's Castle.

The waterfall was situated in the Giant's Castle Nature Reserve, and it was there that they were headed to rest up for the night in one of the luxurious self-catering chalets. Marcelo had taken the initiative to make a booking ahead of time, as they drove, and they were being expected. Jade had other plans, though.

"I want to see Elizabeth's house first." She insisted. "The house that she grew up in, and where she first saw the alien craft."

"It's another hour's drive to Giant's Castle." Marcelo protested. "We really don't have time for..."

"I think it's a great idea." Blake interrupted, noticing Jade's forming pout. "And if you had bothered to read the book, you'd also want to see it."

"Exactly!" Jade beamed.

"Oh my God." Marcelo breathed. "I don't stand a chance with the two of you."

"Let's go." Jade cried happily, pointing in the direction of a road that branched off from the town towards the east. "It's down there. Not far."

Marcelo grunted and shifted the car into gear, slowly cruising through Rosetta's main road, uneven with potholes. They turned off down the road that Jade had indicated, and the badly maintained tar soon became all gravel as they sped up towards a distant hill, the dust pluming out behind them like a sandy wake. Most of the little town had been built around one particularly large farm in the area, the Rosetta farm, but according to Elizabeth's book she claimed to have been born on the 'other' farm in the area, and research on the history of the town had indicated that there were only two major farms in the area back in the early fifties, and that the second largest was Mooikrans Farm. However, according to the story, the sightings had occurred on their new farm, nestled in the shadow of the Drakensberg, where her father had moved the family to in order to breed white horses. An accommodation website had listed only one farm in the area where these white horses were still being bred, and they had no doubt that Elisabeth had lived at Mpofana Ranch mentioned on the website.

The ranch was north-east of Rosetta, a good few kilometres along the dusty gravel road, but even as they approached it with a view from above as they traversed a small hill, Jade could almost sense that they were at the right place, just based on the beauty of the surrounding areas, and the majestic mountain in the distance. Marcelo parked the car alongside the road, and the three of them climbed out to get a better view at the farm below. It was well-kept, with several tall trees providing shade around the large farmhouse and outbuildings. There were a host of paddocks around the property, and in each one dozens of beautiful white horses either stood around or trotted along the boundary, their manes waving in the air. Jade couldn't help but wonder if some of these beautiful creatures were sired by Elisabeth's own mare, Selene.

"Look!" Blake pointed excitedly at a nearby hillside.

"Yes." Jade breathed. "That must have been where she and her sister were playing when they first saw the craft."

"So that's where we look for it?" Marcelo asked, seeming bored.

"No, dummy." Jade laughed. "According to the book, Elisabeth had her personal encounter with Akon, her extra-terrestrial lover, to the north of the farm, at the southern end of a hillside at the base of the Drakensberg– that hillside." She pointed to a hillside way beyond the farm and its outbuildings, closer to the impressive mountains.

"Okay wait." Blake said excitedly, reaching into the car to grab the book and flipping through the pages quickly. "Here..." He read a passage to them:

I remained sitting, close to the Earth, too nervous to stand up again. To the west, the clouds had moved away from the vast profile of Giant's Castle and the sleeping face was outlined against the blue sky. The immense bulk of the sleeping giant stretched away to Cathkin and beyond and to the jag¬ged teeth of Mont-aux-Sources where clouds swirled up from its base.

"If she had been at the southern end of that hill, and the face of the giant of Giant's Castle was to the west, then we need to be looking in that area there." He pointed at a section of the mountain, shaped like a sleeping giant, just to the left of some jagged peaks.

"Sinclair's Cave." Marcelo said, matter-of-factly.

"Where?" Blake asked, frowning.

"Sinclair's Cave." Marcelo repeated. "It's a cave that tourists can sleep in on one of the hikes that Giant's Castle Nature Reserve offers. It was named after the owner of a nearby farm, who used to drive his horses up to a kraal he built near the cave so that they could avoid getting a horse sickness that had plagued the area back in those days, and -"

"Holy shit!" Blake exclaimed.

"What is it?" Jade asked excitedly.

"Elisabeth wrote of how Ladam, her father's headman, told her of the white horses that were sent down from the heaven country during a time of sickness... do you think he meant from the kraal up at Sinclair's Cave? And do you think Elisabeth might have been related to this Sinclair guy?"

"Well, she was married, so must have changed her surname to Klarer. It's a totally plausible theory!"

"Anyway," Marcelo waved their rude interruption away and continued. "The point I'm trying to make is that we can only get there by taking the guided tour from the Nature Reserve – which happens to be where we are staying tonight – if we ever get there."

"Well what are we waiting for?" Jade screeched. "Let's go!"

Marcelo sighed and shook his head, turning and heading back to the car slowly, as the other two quickly piled in like excited children, slamming their doors shut and urging him to hurry.

They turned and followed the gravel road back to Rosetta, where they stopped at a small supermarket in the Main Road.

"We need to get some supplies for the hike tomorrow. And food." Marcelo said, switching off the engine. "I'll wait."

Blake and Jade climbed out and headed into the little supermarket, which was not much more than a bigger version of what a corner general dealer would be. Jade grabbed a basket and headed through the aisles filling it up, while Blake wandered over to a notice board near the entrance. There were several pamphlets pinned to the board for nearby guest houses and game farms, along with a few poorly written requests for employment as housemaids or gardeners, obviously placed there by some of the local villagers. It wasn't long before Jade tapped him on the shoulder, carrying two plastic grocery bags in her hands.

"Ready?" she asked.

Blake nodded and followed her towards the exit, but almost walked into her from behind when she suddenly stopped at the doorway, and turned to look to her right.

"What is it?" Blake asked, following her gaze, but seeing only a couple of local shoppers and the employees of the store as they wandered around.

"Hold these." She said absentmindedly, handing him the two bags. He took them from her and then watched curiously as she made her way back into the store, headed straight for one of the shelf-packers who was stacking cans of baked beans onto a nearby shelf. He couldn't hear what she was saying to the young man, but based on the reaction on his face, he seemed surprised – even perturbed by her soft words. She reached out and touched the man on the shoulder briefly before turning and heading back to where Blake stood. She smiled, taking one of the bags from his hand and making her way out the door, with him following closely behind.

"What was all that about?" Blake asked.

"Just some Ka business." She replied, as they reached the car and popped the trunk to store the grocery bags.

"You mean... the Trembling? Right now? Why? What did he do?"

"It's what he is going to do." Jade sighed, heading for the passenger door.

"Why didn't I feel anything?" he asked, confused.

Jade turned to smile at him. "You know why."

"Well, I thought that after what happened at the warehouse, you know..."

"Your love for me is what happened at the warehouse, Blake. Nothing more."

"Well, that's not how I see it. Regardless, though. What was the boy going to do?"

She sighed once more, deeper this time. "Young girls have been going missing around the rural areas here for the past few years. A few have been found days or weeks later, raped and strangled in the sugar cane fields. Most have not been found at all. The police haven't been able to put it all together yet, but there is a serial killer on the loose in Rosetta. A man intellectually challenged with little or no idea of the consequence of his actions, nor any means of controlling his sexual desires."

"That man?" Blake asked, gasping in surprise. "The man in the store?"

Jade nodded.

"Jesus... we should call the police."

"That won't be necessary now."

Blake frowned. "What will happen to him now that you... you know...?"

"I don't need to know." Jade smiled. "Let's get going."

Blake climbed in and buckled up as Marcelo started the car, heading east down the Main Road again, before heading north towards Giant's Castle, a journey that took the better part of an hour thanks to the condition of the poorly maintained road. He found his mind occupied by what had just happened at the store, realising just how quickly he was able to forget that Jade and Marcelo were more than just some random people he had met, that they were here for a specific purpose – a purpose which he partially understood, but easily over-looked. His own experiences with the Trembling, the mystical power of Karma, were second-hand at best, but overwhelmingly powerful. It was easy to forget that Jade was constantly in touch with that ability, with that affliction – feeling it, noticing it, completely aware of it all of the time! It must be exhausting, at the very least! He had learnt first-hand what the counter-effects of receiving the Trembling could be, and he shuddered to think what might happen to the young man at the store in the next few hours, but perhaps Jade was right, and it was better not to know, or to wonder about. It could drive you crazy! In the end, a bad man would be stopped, and the world would be a better place – at least, that was the intention.

By the time they had reached the gates at the nature reserve, the sun had started dipping below the horizon to the west, bathing the well-kept chalets in a golden aura where they nestled against the rocky mountainside of the Drakensberg. Marcelo checked them in and then drove them up to their self-catering chalet, the furthest one from the gates, and the one seated the highest amongst the rocks around which they were built. They unpacked the car and by the time the sun had almost set completely, they were all three standing on the varnished wooden veranda at the front of the cottage, overlooking the valley below them as it disappeared into the African nightfall.

Jade went into the chalet to prepare a makeshift meal for the men from items she had purchased at the supermarket, leaving the two of them to stare out into the darkness alone.

Blake pulled up a nearby plastic chair and sat down.

"It's so peaceful out here." He said.

Marcelo nodded. "It's okay. A little bit exposed, but okay."

"You can relax for a moment, you know." Blake chuckled. "We're almost a thousand kilometres away from Idris and East London, in the middle of almost nowhere. Take a break, man."

Marcelo turned to face him, leaning with his back against the wooden railing of the veranda, arms folded.

"Do you think we're safe here just because it's isolated?"

"No, I'm just saying..."

"Nowhere is safe." He said solemnly. "Trust me, I know. For so many years I've tried hiding us from this man, from humanity even, in places you would never even dream of looking, yet every time he has tracked us down. Why do you think I had to take such drastic measures with all that equipment back there – cameras, satellite feeds... weapons? Right now we are more vulnerable than we been for years! We've taken only the bare basics with us, and I don't have the slightest idea where Idris might be right now. That scares me. It should scare you too – if you love her at all."

Blake nodded. What Marcelo was saying made sense. He had to remember the type of life they had been living since they arrived on this planet.

"I'm sorry." He said. "I completely understand. And you're right – I am scared. I'm scared for her. I'm scared for you. And most of all, I'm scared that you were right all along, and that this whole trip was a waste of valuable time. But what's the point of looking back if that's not the direction we're travelling in? There has to be some faith, some confidence that this will work out – for everybody."

"For everybody? For me, and for Jade? What about for you? You get to send us home... and then? What do you do? What does the rest of your life entail?"

"I don't know yet." Blake shrugged. "And to be honest, it doesn't matter. I came here for a reason, and I'm damned well going to make sure it works out, regardless of the consequences."

"That's very noble." Marcelo chuckled. "Unfortunately it's also very naïve."

"Maybe. Maybe it is. But at least I'm willing to try, which is more than you can say."

There was an uncomfortable silence, filled only with the gentle sounds of nature from the darkness around them, and the faint sound of singing from inside the chalet as Jade made supper. Marcelo finally turned away, looking out into the darkness again. After a moment his shoulders seemed to drop slightly, but Blake wasn't sure if it was just a figment of his imagination or the way the light from the living room played tricks on the mind as it spilled through the window.

"Right now I guess I'll try anything." Marcelo muttered.

Blake felt his heart twinge at the sadness in Marcelo's voice, and he immediately stood up and approached the railing, standing next to the shorter man. For a second he considered saying and doing nothing except stand there, but then he found himself placing his arm around Marcelo's shoulders.

"It will make her happy." Blake said softly. "Even if it doesn't work out, at least she'll have peace of mind."

"You're right." Marcelo nodded seriously. "But if you don't remove your arm in the next two seconds, I'm going to rip it off and club you to death with it."

Blake squeezed Marcelo's shoulder briefly before returning his arm to his side. He smiled as he headed for the chair again, sitting down noisily.

"You're one of a kind, Marcelo. One of a kind."

Jade exited the chalet just at that moment, bearing two plates loaded with sandwiches. She handed one to each of them.

"Eat up, my boys. We've got a hell of a day waiting for us tomorrow!"

"Yummy." Blake smiled as he bit into one of the sandwiches.

"Liar. It's just polony and cheese."

"It's like an angel is making love to my taste-buds."

"Charmer."

Blake beamed his best grin at her. "It's true!"

They helped her clean up the tiny kitchen after they had eaten, by which time Marcelo had started yawning furiously.

"Go to bed, dad." Jade urged, instinctively reverting to the familiarity of the disguise they had been using for so many years.

"Later." He mumbled. "It's too early."

"You're exhausted!" Jade protested. "Get some sleep, please? We'll be fine, I promise."

"Yes, go rest." Blake added. "I've got this."

Marcelo studied Blake briefly, before his expression softened and he turned to Jade, kissing her gently on the cheek. "Goodnight, my lady."

Jade nodded her head once in acknowledgement, as Marcelo headed for the nearest bedroom and closed the door behind him.

"He's so stubborn." She said softly to Blake.

"He's just being protective."

"Let's go to bed." She looked at Blake mischievously. "I've missed you."

Blake grinned. "You have?"

"Yes." She said, her voice tainted with huskiness. "Are you coming?"

"Not yet."

She frowned, and then finally seemed to grasp the pun, before giggling softly.

"I think Marcelo would prefer if I stayed awake a while longer." Blake said earnestly. "As a lookout, or something?"

"Who said anything about sleeping?" Jade breathed softly, the gentle light from the overheads dancing off her eyes. They turned off the living area lights and ensured the doors were locked, before Jade slipped her hand into Blake's and led him into the bedroom, where the moon would bathe the tangled shape of them through the window with its pale silkiness.

### Chapter 30

The tour-guide they were allocated by the front office the next morning was a young Zulu man named Themba Gumede, who wasted no time in informing them that they were poorly prepared for the hike that was to come, based solely on the way that they were dressed.

"Where do you think you are going?" he asked, speaking fast and waving his finger in the air to show his disapproval. "To the supermarket?"

Jade liked him immediately, and chuckled at his apparent dismay. "What do you mean, Themba?"

"These shoes!" Themba exclaimed, pointing at their feet and causing them all to look downwards to see what the fuss was all about. "These are not hiking shoes for the mountain! And you wear jean pants instead of shorts? And where are your camping bags? Where is your tent? How will you sleep once we reach the cave?"

"We'll be fine." Jade smiled. "We each have a sleeping bag, food and enough water for all of us. There's no need to worry. If you could just get us there safely, that is all that we require."

Themba clicked his tongue against the top of his mouth, shaking his head. "I am here to lead the way, yes, but I am also required to ensure you are properly taken care of, in the fashion of excellent service that the Reserve expects for all its guests!"

"Then rest assured that you are giving us the best service you can by simply following our wishes."

The young man pondered this thought for a moment, and it must have justified his dilemma a little, as he finally sighed and shrugged his shoulders. "Okay. Let's go. But know that I am not listening to the cries of little girls when you are wishing you had come more prepared for the journey to the Dragon mountain!"

It was another glorious day in the Kwazulu-Natal midlands. The temperature had already hit 23 degrees Celsius by the time they had finished a quick breakfast of French toast and instant coffee that morning, before dressing and packing for the upcoming hike. Now, as they followed Themba along a paved footpath that ran between the main Reception building and the nearest thatch-roofed chalets, it was probably heading closer to thirty degrees and it was barely eight in the morning! The reserve seemed pretty deserted at the moment, and it appeared that they were the only visitors today. It was a week-day in late November, and the schools would not close for the annual December holidays until the fifth or so, which meant the usual flood of tourists from Gauteng or the Free State would only be arriving in a week or more. This meant they had the place to themselves, which suited them perfectly.

The paved footpath soon gave way to a more natural path carved into the earth from years of the tramping of human feet. This path led away from the chalets to the north-east, winding its way ahead of them like a lazy yellow snake through the glorious greenery of the African bushveld, snaking upwards towards the distant shadow of the Drakensberg Mountain. It was a twenty-two kilometre walk from the Reserve to Sinclair's Cave, with a one-night sleepover in the cave itself, before returning the next day back the way they had come. It did not take them long to realise that Themba may have been right about their choice of shoes and clothing, as there were several really treacherous sections which they either had to climb up using the jutting rocks and roots as handholds, or others where they appeared to be walking on a shelf of no less than a foot wide, with a terrifyingly sheer drop-off to their right and the steep incline of the mountain to their left. Luckily these were fewer than expected, and most of the day's hike was done with a cheery attitude and a non-wavering excitement, especially on Jade's part.

They discovered that Themba's name meant 'hope' in his Zulu mother tongue, and Jade found this reassuring, as if the man had been destined to be here to guide them on this trip today. He regaled them with fabulous tales of legend and war, of heroes and villains, of superstition and cultural belief. The Zulu nation were a truly fascinating race, with a history steeped in blood for many years before the white man. They were a warrior-race, and prided themselves on their battle savvy. Some of the greatest and bloodiest wars were fought right here in Kwazulu-Natal – the battles of Blood River and Rourke's Drift sprang to mind instantly – but it was their greatest warrior and chief, a name still remembered hundreds of years later, that really placed them in the history books and cemented their notorious skills – Shaka! King of the Zulu's!

As majestic and fearsome as they were famed to be, the Zulu's were more recently better known for their strong work ethic and family values. One would be hard-pressed to find a harder working man than a Zulu son, nor a race more dedicated to their own kind! They were undoubtedly a key factor in the development of the country as it now stood, so many years after the infamy of Apartheid and the Afrikaner regime.

They took a break about halfway into their hike, pausing at a giant boulder on the side of the mountain, resting in the shade of it with their backs against the cool face, staring out over the valley below, so distantly beautiful. Jade had packed some more sandwiches for them, and they devoured them with fervour, washing them down with bottled water. Themba refused an offered sandwich, choosing instead to munch on the roots he carried in a small leather bag at his side.

The quiet drone of a helicopter above had her squinting upwards into the sky.

"Some tourists prefer to see the cave from the steel bird." Themba muttered, shaking his head at the peculiar ways of the mlungu, or white man. The tiny chopper soon disappeared from sight. It was way past midday by now, and Jade stood up, stretching her legs, before turning to the young man.

"What time will we arrive at Sinclair's Cave?" she asked him.

"Just before the sun sleeps." He replied, looking up at the blazing sky.

"What do you know of this area?" she asked. "In terms of legend, that is."

"There are many legends about the mountain of the Dragon." Themba said, waving his arms towards the peaks behind them. "Many legends."

"What of visitors from the sky?" Jade asked, curiously.

Themba's eyes widened with excitement. "Yes, yes." He nodded. "There is the tale of the lightning bird, with scales of many colours, that was flown by the heaven dwellers. It is said that the bird landed here many times, bringing with it the secrets of the universe."

Jade smiled at the analogy, marvelling at the fact that the legend had lost nothing in the handing down between generations.

"The lightning bird... like the helicopter we saw?"

Themba shook his head vehemently. "No! The lightning bird is not from here! Not from the white man! It is built by the heaven dwellers!"

"And it was seen around here? Around the Drakensberg?"

"Yes." Themba smiled, spreading his arms to indicate the valley around them.

"Do you know any of the locations where it may have landed?" she asked.

Themba shook his head. "No. Only the mfiti would know the exact locations."

"Mfiti?" Blake asked, curious.

"The witch from our clan." Themba replied, seeming uncomfortable to talk about her suddenly, as if his voice might be heard by the shaman in his village all the way from up here. "We should go now."

"Yes, we will." Jade nodded. "But what of a lightning bird that was ill and couldn't return to the heavens? Was there a legend of that?"

"I would not know." Themba replied, seemingly irritated now, and apparently avoiding her question. "Let's go."

Jade gave up on her quest for information, and instead she turned to the two men who were still seated in the shadow of the boulder, raising her eyebrows.

"Lead the way." Blake said, as he stood up, dusting himself off before giving Marcelo a hand up. They picked up their few belongings and then fell in line again behind the fit Zulu as he forged ahead.

There was little conversation on the last leg of their hike, as the difficulty of it started taking its toll on the unfit travellers. Their pace slowed dramatically the further they went, much to the irritation of their guide, and it was late afternoon, several hours since they had rested for lunch, before they eventually heard the words they had been waiting for.

"There it is."

They followed Themba's pointed finger to an overhang of rock in the mountainside ahead, near a level section of grassland. Realising they were so close to their destination gave them renewed energy, and they quickly made the short trek up the hill to the entrance of the cave with ease. It was not much more than a deep recess in the mountain, overhung by a majestic arch of natural rock. The floor of the shallow cave was strewn with boulders of different sizes, and they now realized why Themba had suggested they bring a tent, as sleeping in the cave would be an uncomfortable affair! It would be a lot more comfortable out on the small section of grassland at the entrance to the cave. The weather looked as if it would hold out, though, so that might still be an option anyway, Jade decided.

"This is it?" Marcelo asked, breathless and panting from the day's hike. "This is all it is?"

"I think it's beautiful!" Jade defended.

"Not worth twenty-two kilometres beautiful." Marcelo muttered, obviously frustrated and tired.

"It looks so familiar." Blake said. "I swear I've seen this cave before – maybe in a magazine or something. It looks so much more impressive in real life though."

"The beauty of the cave is not the cave itself, but the view from behind it." Themba said proudly. "A short walk to the top of that hill."

"I'm not taking another step." Marcelo grunted, tossing his sleeping bag on the floor near the entrance to the cave and sitting down on it.

"Blake?" Jade looked pleadingly at him.

"Sure." He sighed. "Why not. It's what we came for, isn't it?"

"Yippee!" She grabbed his hand and led him towards the left of the entrance, where a narrow game trail led up the side of the hill. They made the climb carefully, as the path was fairly steep and filled with loose stones. After several minutes the incline levelled out and they found themselves standing on the top of the hill, looking out over an expansive valley that seemed to stretch on forever! The sun was setting to their right, casting an array of glorious orange and red light across the untouched Eden below them.

"Wow." Jade breathed. "It's so... magnificent!"

Blake had to agree with her. It truly was an amazing sight to behold, especially now that the sky was darkening and the colours and shades in-between were changing with the setting sun.

"Do you think the ship could be down there somewhere?" he asked.

Jade shrugged. "I don't know. It's such a huge area... where would we even start looking? Maybe Marcelo was right... this might all have been a waste of precious time."

"Let's not give up yet." Blake hugged her. "It's getting dark, perhaps in the morning we might be able to see something."

"Okay." Jade sighed, hugging him back.

They made their way back down the steep hill, just as the sun finally decided to dip below the horizon and cast them in complete darkness. Themba had made a fire inside the cave for them, and the flickering flames lit the entire interior of the natural wonder with a warm orange glow. Marcelo was seated near the fire, waiting for them.

"Anything?" he asked.

Blake shook his head. "It's too dark to see. We're going to have a look in the morning."

"Okay." He replied, and then turned his attention on Jade. "Remember what I said. If we don't find anything here, we do things my way – as hard as that may be to swallow!"

"I know." She replied. "And I agree... but thank you anyway, Marcelo. Thank you for giving this to me in any case."

"Giving you what?"

"This." She smiled, spreading her hands at her sides and indicating the walls of the cave. "This is a piece of history – even if it isn't a piece of ours. I'm humbled to be here, and it's thanks to you."

Marcelo nodded, and for a moment Jade thought she saw the forming of a smile, but then he turned towards the fire again, and his features were hidden from view. If his stern façade had been broken for an instant, she would never know for sure.

"Who's hungry?" she asked, picking up the bag she had carried up from the chalet. "I've got tinned spaghetti and meatballs."

"Yes please!" Blake smiled. "That sounds delicious."

She headed past him towards the rear of the cave, pausing to give him a peck on the cheek as she did so. There was a fairly flat section of boulders that would suffice as a makeshift table, where she could prepare the meal, and she knelt down in front of it and opened up the bag, digging out the tinned food, some cutlery, paper plates and a fresh loaf of sliced white bread. She had luckily had the foresight to bring a tin opener, and she dug this out too. She was just about to pierce the lid of the first tin with the opener when she heard a familiar voice call out softly from the rear of the cave.

"Hello, Jade."

She dropped the opener instantly, gasping out in surprise as a shadowy figure emerged from behind the boulders ahead and stepped into the firelight.

"Idris!"

### Chapter 31

Her first instinct was to turn and run, but even as she started moving in the direction of the cave entrance, she immediately saw that it was too late! Three armed men were standing over where Blake, Marcelo and the frightened guide were sitting around the campfire, rifles pointed at their heads. She gasped out loud and turned back to where Idris stood. He looked the worst for wear, a fresh wound stretched across his face, cutting into his features. It was poorly stitched, and still bleeding slowly in places.

"Ah." Idris sneered. "You like my new look? No thanks to you lot!"

"What are you... how did you find us?" she spat. "We were careful."

Idris chuckled. "Yes, you were. You always have been... but as for your new friend..."

"Blake?" Jade asked, glancing back at where he sat before returning her attention to Idris. "What about him?"

"How do you think I knew they were coming to rescue you at the warehouse?" Idris asked, a smug look on his scarred face.

"What are you talking about?"

"And he led us right here too. In the middle of fucking nowhere, but here we are."

Jade looked back at Blake again, frowning, and he shook his head furiously.

"He's fucking lying, Jade!"

"Am I?" Idris asked, laughing now. "How else would we have known to wait here for you to bring them to us?"

"You fucker..." Blake tried to stand up, but a swift blow from the butt of the nearest Cleaner's rifle to his head had him hitting the sandy floor hard instead. He sat up groggily, blood streaming down the side of his face. "Its lies, Jade... all lies!"

"There's no way." Jade shook her head, glaring defiantly at Idris. "Blake would never have double-crossed us!"

"Oh relax." Idris sighed. "Your boyfriend hardly knew any better. How could he have known that we would put a tracker on his vehicle the night I lost track of you after you left his house? It's not like he even knew we existed at that stage!"

"A tracker?" Jade gasped. She nodded her head now as the realisation dawned on her. "That's how you found our house..."

"Yes. And how we knew to be expecting the two musketeers back at the warehouse that night. I'll admit, though, the airport was a bit of a surprise. After we took you and your fake father we weren't expecting to see him again. I guess he really does love you. Fucking weird."

"And then you tracked us here, to Rosetta."

Idris nodded. "You really should have switched cars. When you left on foot this morning, it only took two bullets to get the receptionist at Giant's Castle to tell us where you were headed. We hired a chopper and here we are... one big happy family reunion! Well, except for the Zulu..."

Themba looked up at Idris, his eyes wide with fear.

"Kill him." Idris said, nodding at the Cleaner who stood over Themba. "I hate baggage."

"No!" Jade screamed, trying to lunge towards them, but Idris grabbed her by the hair and yanked her back against him, calmly placing the sharp blade of a hunting knife against her throat. The cavern was filled with the enormous amplified boom of a gunshot, followed immediately by a spray of blood from Themba's head. Both Blake and Marcelo stumbled backwards in surprise as the mountain guide's lifeless body hit the ground between them.

"Jesus." Blake gasped. "What the fuck!"

"Noooo!" Jade was still screaming, as she struggled against Idris strong grip, the knife blade slicing gently into the skin of her neck and drawing a small amount of blood.

"Stop it." Idris jerked her roughly backwards. "Or your boyfriend is next!"

The Cleaner behind Blake placed the barrel of his rifle against Blake's head, and Jade stopped struggling immediately, her eyes wide, shaking her head pleadingly.

"No. Please."

"That's better." Idris smiled. "Now..."

Jade felt a sudden stinging sensation in her neck, and almost instantaneously a warm calmness descended over her. She knew the sensation well, it was the same drug she'd been injected with back at the warehouse. It would leave her incapable of summoning the Trembling... and protecting Blake.

As if from an unseen signal, the Cleaner immediately behind Marcelo leaned forward and pricked him in the neck with a syringe as well, surprising the older man. He grunted, more from frustration than pain, falling forward onto his hands with his head bowed as the drug took effect instantly. After a moment he sat upright again, but there was a vagueness in his eyes that indicated the chemicals were already working through his system.

"What in blazes are you doing here anyway?" Idris asked, gesturing at the fire-lit cave, releasing his tight grip on Jade slightly. "It's certainly isolated, I get that... but a fucking cave? Really? That's something Osama Bin Laden would have done, hardly what I would have expected from your kind."

Jade had slumped to her knees by now, the drug working through her system just as quickly. Idris let go of her and she fell to the side, helpless. He stepped over her and approached Blake and Marcelo.

"Now, as far as thorns in the side go, you've been surprisingly effective!" He said to Blake, crouching in front of him. "I really should just have killed you when I had the chance the first time."

"Well, do it now." Blake spat defiantly. "Because I swear to God if you don't, you won't live to regret it any longer!"

Idris chuckled as he played with the hunting knife, twirling it lazily in his right hand. "As much as I'd love to, and I really would... you seem to have given me a certain amount of leverage when it comes to the young Jade. She must have a really soft spot for you, and that works in my favour. You see, I have a slight dilemma. I needed to get her back to Brazil a few days ago, but she was being very un-cooperative – until you showed up. Now things have changed, and I could definitely use you."

"If you think I'm going to help you send her back to Brazil, you're sadly mistaken."

"No, no." Idris smiled. "As Mohammed once said, if you can't go to the mountain, bring the mountain to you. We don't need to go to Brazil anymore. Brazil has come to us."

Marcelo frowned, glancing at Blake before he directed his attention at Idris Mdoda.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"Exactly what I said. Besides, the whole airport and customs issue was always going to be a problem, especially after your new friend here caused all that commotion at the airport the other day. It just made more sense to bring him to South Africa instead."

"Him? You mean, the mysterious Mr. White?"

"The big shot, the man pulling the strings all these years. Exactly!"

"Who is he? And why is he so interested in us?"

"You'll find out soon enough." Idris waved Marcelo's question away. "Right now we have to get off this stupid mountain and back to civilisation. Luckily I have a helicopter waiting just over the next rise. Up you get!"

The Cleaners nudged them in the backs with their rifles, and the two men got to their feet, being careful not to step in the steadily pooling blood of the young Zulu guide as they did so. Idris lifted Jade to her feet. She was still groggy, but able to stand with his assistance.

"Now let's be clear." He said menacingly. "If either of you idiots even think of trying anything, I will slit her throat from ear to ear and remove her fucking head. If you think I need her alive, you're mistaken. Her head will suffice."

They left the cave in single file, Blake and Marcelo at the front, with the three Cleaners closely behind, while Idris held up the rear with Jade in tow. They were directed towards the left of the cave, along a narrow path that snaked away into the bushveld. It was already dark, with little more than a couple of flashlights to show the way. As they made their way through some denser bush, fending off the branches of thorn trees, Blake was silently cursing himself. All along he had been the instrument that had led to this moment. Unwittingly he had given Idris the ability to be one step ahead of them every time! If he had never stopped to help her on the side of the road that day... if he had just kept on driving... Jade and Marcelo would still be safe! His mother would still be alive... the thought brought a knot to his throat that he had to swallow hard to get rid of.

As they exited the dense bush into a clearing at the crest of a hill, the first thing he saw was the helicopter which had landed on a flat piece of ground in the nearby valley below. He recognised it instantly as the one they had seen earlier that day, passing overhead, the one that Themba had assumed was carrying tourists wanting to get a bird's eye view of Sinclair's Cave. Instead it had carried something so much more terrifying! They snaked their way down towards it, and as they neared, a nervous looking pilot stepped out from behind it.

"What is this?" he asked, his eyes darting between the newcomers. He was an Afrikaans man, and he struggled to speak in English. "And what was that skoot? Did somebody get hurt?"

"Start her up." Idris commanded, ignoring the pilot.

"I never signed up for this." The pilot protested angrily. "Kidnapping! I thought this was just a private charter to see the cave?"

"I think you've been well-enough rewarded thus far." Idris said curtly. "Do what you were paid for and fly this bird."

The pilot seemed to be considering another protestation, but the angry glare from Idris, and the gun-wielding Cleaners must have changed his mind, because he turned and climbed into the helicopter, starting it up. The blades slow rotation soon became a thudding roar as they kicked up the dust below them. Idris opened up the passenger door of the small chopper and leaned inside, talking to the pilot. He then turned and faced the rest of the group.

"It appears we have a slight dilemma." He shouted above the roar of the blades. "We can only lift off carrying seven passengers, and by my last count we are one too many. I think I may have had a change of mind, Mr. Turner."

He reached into the small of his back and pulled out a 9mm pistol, raising it instantly and aiming it at Blake!

"No!" Marcelo yelled suddenly, a renewed burst of energy coursing through his veins as he leapt forward, raising his hands in that familiar motion that Blake had witnessed a few nights ago. Idris took a surprised step backwards, as if in anticipation of what might come, but as Marcelo stood there waving his hands helplessly in the air, his powers rendered useless by the strong drugs that had been injected into his system, a wry smile formed in the corner of the tall man's mouth.

"Aah. What a pity. And so brave, as usual. Have it your way, then."

He shifted his aim towards Marcelo instead, and fired. The gunshot was almost unheard in the roar of the helicopter blades, and Blake flinched as the man he had come to like and respect went down hard on the ground in front of him, amidst the turmoil of wind and dust.

Blake rushed forward to his aid, kneeling beside his newfound friend. The bullet had ripped through Marcelo's face, leaving a gaping hole in the back of his neck, the blood pulsing out furiously! Blake lifted his head to his lap, feeling an intense flood of emotion as he wiped Marcelo's bloodied brow, looking into his eyes through a layer of unexpected tears.

Marcelo stared back at him, as sternly-featured as ever, yet this time Blake saw something else in the old man's eyes... something he had never seen there before...

Fear.

### Chapter 32

"It's..." Marcelo tried to speak, and Blake shushed him, but his friend shook his head furiously. "It's up to... you now... brother."

The last syllable was emphasised by the coughing up of blood, thick and red and so terrible! Blake found it difficult to control his grief as the life disappeared from Marcelo's eyes, replaced instead by a cloudy emptiness. He found himself sobbing at the man's passing, and when he looked up at where Jade stood next to the man who had killed him, he could see that she was in her own world, aware of what had happened, but her reactions and her mind fogged by the drugs. In a way, he was grateful for that, for her sake.

"I guess we have a seat for you, after all." Idris smiled at Blake, who stared back at him emotionlessly. "Get up!"

Blake rose to his feet slowly, being careful to place Marcelo's head gently on the ground before he did. He stared at his hands as he did so, covered in dark blood and African sand, so terrifyingly visible even in the light of the flashlights and the helicopter beacons. The sight of the blood stirred up flashes of a distant memory; a clouded conversation. The image of a golden lightning dragon danced briefly in front of his vision.

And this human? This Blake vessel?

The words were just whispers in the roaring wind, gently brushing across Blake's ears.

What of him?

Will he co-operate?

The static-filled whispering seemed to be getting louder now, clearer with every recollected word.

Yes.

How can you be sure?

Because he is in love with the girl.

The words were shouts now, being yelled at him from nowhere, piercing through his head and into the deepest and darkest recesses of his brain. Along with the words, he felt an overwhelming sense of knowing... of understanding, as years and years of supressed memories flooded back in an instant. There were scenes of a wreckage – an alien craft that crash-landed on a mountainside. The confusion as he found himself alone in a strange world, a world that he did not yet understand. The pain and joy of lives lived, and lost. Of passing on from condemned soul to condemned soul through the rituals of human birth, oblivious to his own existence and blinded by the confusion of being human. Life through life, vessel through vessel... until now. For the first time in hundreds of years he was aware. He was awake!

Will you help us?

The words spoken from brother to brother. A plea from across the galaxies, by a kindred soul. The question of all questions. Asked. And answered...

Yes!

When Blake's mind cleared from the visions, only micro-seconds had passed. Idris still had the gun pointed at him and was indicating that he step aboard the helicopter. Behind him one of the Cleaners was about to step forward and jab him roughly in the back with the barrel of his rifle. The helicopter blades were whining and ripping up sand particles that swirled and stung every inch of his unflinching face, but he refused to close his eyes or even to blink.

"Let her go." He whispered, so softly that he would not have been heard even if there had been no roaring of blades or swirling of dust.

As the rifle touched the soft of his back, he swung around suddenly, a speed and reactiveness that was unfamiliar yet at the same time, instinctive! He did not have to physically touch the surprised Cleaner to send him cartwheeling through the air for hundreds of meters as if he were a child's doll, it only required the slightest gesture of his hand to do so. The intensity of the power that lived inside of him now was a hundred times that of anything he had even remotely experienced before – it was the Trembling, as he knew it, but on massive amounts of steroids! By the time the other two Cleaners had begun comprehending what had happened to their colleague, it was too late for them, as Blake clenched his hand into a fist and mashed the two of them together so violently that for a moment they appeared to be one! A strange malformed creature of many arms and legs and heads before it imploded upon itself. The violent spray of blood from the mess of them filled the air instantly in the gyrating winds, covering all of them with a fine misty redness.

Idris stepped back in surprise, this time completely unprepared for what was happening around him. Blake could imagine the thoughts running through his head as he tried to understand how any of this was even possible! How could this man have such power? A power that belonged to an alien race? How could he not have predicted this before it was too late... and then the fear in his eyes as he realised that it truly was too late. He composed himself briefly as he stepped towards Jade again, knowing that she would be his only protection, that Blake would not harm her. But even before his foot touched the ground on his first step, he was being lifted into the air and pushed backwards through it until he hovered off the ground helplessly, his gun slipping from his paralyzed fingers!

Blake approached the man slowly, pausing as he reached Jade's side. He gently pulled her back, away from the helicopter and her floating captor. When she was safely in his protection, he looked calmly up at the frozen, hovering Idris.

"You are an evil man." He said. "A man with little respect for human life – for any life. Filled with greed and inspired by death."

"Look... we can make a deal." Idris was pleading now, instinctively reacting to the situation as he looked down at his feet, inches off the ground. "I will do whatever I can to get Mr. White off your backs! I swear, I will make sure he never comes looking for her again. Just please... give me that chance. Let me help you!"

The almost forgotten helicopter pilot had witnessed all of the goings on, and the sudden change in the pitch and speed of the whirling blades above them was a clear indication that he was planning to get the hell out of there – and fast!

"I have no need for your help." Blake said calmly. "I can take care of myself... and the girl."

The helicopter had started lifting off the ground now, and Idris shouted back at the pilot, straining his neck to see him, trying to gesture with his hands but still unable to move them. He swore furiously, but his words were lost in the thundering wind. He looked back at Blake and Jade then, a mixture of fear and anger and confusion on his face.

"Who the fuck do you think you are!" Idris yelled now, his face contorting with rage, the words inaudible but the shape of them forming clearly on his lips, and for an instant Blake imagined the once familiar face of an angry motorist on the side of a busy highway.

"I am Karma." Blake replied softly, as he lifted his right hand in an upwards motion.

Idris Mdoda's body lifted in unison with the movement of Blake's hand, rising quickly until it met the whirling scalpel-like blades of the helicopter, until it disappeared through them, a horrible chopping sound filling the air as meat became liquid, bone became dust – mere particles drifting briefly through the air until they were carried away by the winds – vanishing as if he had never existed. The helicopter banked wildly to the left as the pilot struggled to regain control. He managed to do so, though, and soon the metal bird had risen high enough off the ground to swing around and fly over the nearby hillside, disappearing from view and soon returning the bushveld to its natural state again once the thudding sound of the blades had faded away.

The intensity of the past few minutes contrasted wildly to the sudden calmness that ensued. Blake's heart was pounding furiously, thudding against his chest so loud that he could physically hear it. As the Trembling wore off, receding back into his being, he found his hands were shaking. He studied them for a moment, the hands of this human, still covered in the blood of an ancient friend. They seemed so strange to him, these limbs, and these digits – this whole body! The weight of it so enormous and unnatural. The sensation of the breeze on the bare skin on his face was surreal, and grounding. He breathed out then, a sigh of acceptance.

"Blake..." Jade was looking up at him from his side, her eyes dreamy and distant.

"Yes, love?"

"This..." she looked around at the empty clearing, her gaze resting briefly on Marcelo's motionless body. "This wasn't me... not this time."

"I know." Blake smiled.

"I don't understand..."

"You will." He said softly. "Later. You need to rest now, get those drugs out of your system."

"Marcelo..." she said sadly, turning her eyes away from his body and burying her head in Blake's chest.

"He will live again... it's the creed of the Fathers. Here."

He led her to a nearby boulder, helping her to sit down beside it. He proceeded to gather several large rocks and boulders from around the clearing, stacking them over Marcelo's body, until there was nothing left to see but a heaped mound. A fitting grave on the slopes of the Drakensberg for a man that had never truly existed, but that would always live in their memory. They sat side by side for what seemed like hours, just staring at the stones, each one dealing with their loss on their own, but also together. It was almost ironic that the roles had been reversed so quickly, as only a few days ago it was Jade who comforted him at his own mother's funeral. Now here he was, holding her tightly as she mourned the man who had, in all aspects, been a father to her. When it finally felt right, he stood up and helped Jade to her feet. He put his arm around her and led her back along the path up the hill, back towards the cave. She was still slightly dazed, and he had to help her through the tougher sections of the path, until they were once again in the shelter of Sinclair's Cave. He sat her down near the fire, smouldering but still warm.

After tossing a couple of pieces of wood onto the coals and fanning them gently, a welcoming flame took hold and soon the cave was lit once more in the gentle, warm orange glow. He prepared a sleeping bag for her near the fire, on a sandy piece of ground, and as she lay down he covered her and she drifted off to sleep almost instantly. He sat beside her, his hand on her back, staring into the fire for what seemed like the longest time. As the night passed around them, he found himself engrossed in his own thoughts, reliving six human lifetimes in moments, in memories. It was the strangest experience, a flood of memory and emotion as he pieced together his hidden past on this planet. By the time the sun was rising, probing curiously into the protection of the cave, he was still seated in the same position, the fire had long since burnt out, but in his heart a new flame had been ignited, and for the first time that he could remember, he finally had a sense of truly belonging.

### Chapter 33

Blake waited patiently for Jade to awaken, finally stirring beside him and sitting up groggily, looking around in confusion. The sun had been up for a few hours already, and it lit the picturesque valley outside, the walls of the cave framing the scenery majestically.

"God, my head is killing me." She groaned.

"Water?"

He fetched her a bottle from the nearby rucksack. It was warm, but wet. She drank almost the entire bottle in one go.

"What time is it?" she sighed, resting the back of her head against a boulder.

"It's almost nine."

"We should go."

Blake shrugged. "There's no rush. Idris is dead."

Scattered memories of the night before must have come flooding back to Jade, and a sadness enveloped her eyes. "Marcelo..."

Blake nodded. "I'm sorry."

They sat in silence for a moment, Blake giving her time to adjust to the loss of her partner. He waited for her to speak first.

"It's all kind of a blur. I don't remember much since Idris injected me with the drug. I remember you buried him... later."

"It's a great resting spot." Blake smiled. "Overlooking the valley."

"How did... what happened?"

"It's a long story." Blake shrugged, reluctant to reveal his own personal discovery in the chaos of the night before. "Idris was going to shoot me, Marcelo stepped in front, and Idris changed his mind. Things got crazy from there... Idris, and the Cleaners... they died. The helicopter pilot fled."

"It doesn't make any sense. What did Marcelo do to them?"

"He was really brave. Probably the bravest man I've ever met. In the end, he died doing what he was destined to do... protecting you."

Jade wiped away a tear from her eye. "And now it's all for nothing. We came here looking for salvation, a ticket home – and he never wanted to make this trip, he knew it was a waste of time. Now he's dead, and it's all my fault."

"Hey." Blake said gently, placing his arm around her shoulders. "That's not true. Don't blame yourself for any of this. It's horrible, I know, but he was always going to go where you wanted to go. That was who he was."

"Still."

Blake stood up, helping her to her feet. "We should probably head out. Idris spoke of someone else, he called him Mr. White. I'm not sure if we should be concerned or not, but it's probably better not to take any chances."

"Where are we going?" Jade asked. "There's nowhere left to go."

"Anywhere we want to."

She chuckled sarcastically. "And you're just going to give up the rest of your life to go on the run with me?"

"No." Blake replied. "I'm going on the run with you because that is what I want to do with the rest of my life. I'm not Marcelo, I know that. But I can look after you."

"It will only end in misery."

"Nonsense!" Blake scolded. "Stop thinking like that!"

"It's true." She sighed. "On this planet I've learnt that people you love will eventually disappoint you or die."

"Maybe that's true." Blake smiled. "But it's not the destination that counts, but the journey. And I want to take that journey with you, regardless."

She looked up at him briefly, a smile forming on her mouth. "That's very sweet. And stupid."

"Come." He said, picking up the rucksacks and rolling up the sleeping bags. She helped him with this, and then she took his hand in hers as they made their way to the entrance of the cave, squinting in the bright sunlight. Blake shielded his eyes, staring out over the valley below them, and then turning to look up at the peaks of the mountain behind them. It was truly a magnificent view, the sun reflecting off and highlighting the sheer rock formations, casting strange shadows across the face of it. The mountain of the Dragon... it was an apt name, as the mountain appeared to be in the shape of a sleeping dragon, blissfully basking in the morning sun. He could almost imagine the shape of its head, the curve of its spine and the curling form of its tail as it snaked away into the valley to the left of them. For an instant he compared it to the dragon-like electrified form of Marcelo the first time he had met the real version of him. The Ka spirit, golden and beautiful and so wasted in its quest to save humanity from itself. Combining the two images in his mind must have sparked some distant memory, some long buried thought, because Blake had to pause in his examination of the mountain for a moment, tilting his head curiously to the side.

"What is it?" Jade asked, noticing his curiosity.

"I've seen this before." Blake said, absentmindedly.

"I know, you said so last night. The cave?"

"No. Yes... and the mountain in this light. At least, I think so."

There was a stirring in his belly, a familiar sensation now. The Trembling seemed to be awakening, flowing up through his veins and cells from deep within him.

"Blake." Jade whispered suddenly. "What's happening?"

He looked at her confused expression, frowning. "What do you mean?"

"Your hands!" She gasped. "They're glowing!"

He looked down at his hands then, and she was right. The force that was building up inside of him seemed to be focusing its attention on his hands, and perhaps glowing was not the right word, but they did seem to be radiating with an energy that was unfamiliar to him.

Realisation suddenly dawned on Jade, and she took a step backwards, staring hard at Blake. "I've seen this before... but it doesn't make any sense... how could... why would...?"

"Don't freak out." Blake said softly, smiling ridiculously at her. "There's something I discovered last night... but I wasn't sure if it was just a dream or not. I was going to wait before I mentioned anything, but I guess it's true now."

"What's true? What are you talking about?"

"I have it." He said.

"You have what?"

"It. The Trembling. The Ka spirit... whatever you want to call it."

"No." Jade shook her head. "It's not possible. Marcelo explained all of this... you were simply experiencing the side effects of what I was doing, remember?"

"I don't think that's true." Blake replied. "I think he knew all along... but he was afraid of saying anything. I am Ka too, Jade. I think I always have been."

"It can't be." Jade shook her head again, taking another step backwards. "We were alone here... you're just a human."

"Watch out!" Blake yelled suddenly, as Jade took another step, her foot catching on a nearby protruding rock buried in the ground. She lost her balance and started tumbling backwards, the fall threatening to land her on a particularly nasty set of pointy rock protrusions. He instinctively reached out, and in so doing he felt the Trembling project from his hand, could almost see the invisible tentacles of it as it grabbed her falling body, wrapping around it gently, until he was holding her up with it, her body impossibly leaning backwards and suspended in the fall.

This moment, as strange as it was, seemed to be suspended in time as their eyes met, as realisation flooded over her, over both of them. Blake gently pulled his hand back towards himself, and she came along with it, until she was steadily on her feet again. He released the invisible grip he had on her, and the sensation of the tentacles returned to his hands again, hovering there gently.

"Oh my God." She breathed, her heart racing. "How is this possible?"

"It kind of make sense." Blake shrugged. "All my life I've felt like an outsider, different. Even my father noticed that, which is why I think he always had a softer spot for me. It would also explain how we found each other – somehow we must have both known, subconsciously. I mean, admit it, this attraction we have for each other... it's unnatural."

"I would have sensed it earlier, surely."

"I think it was always buried deep beneath layers of humanity. I think meeting you was the spark that awoke it in me again."

"Your mother." Jade breathed. "She told me that your birth was a miracle, that you were expected not to live... it makes sense now..."

She stepped towards him, standing face to face and barely inches away. Her eyes explored his face, his features, trying to find something, anything, that might reveal the truth inside of him. She reached up and pulled his head towards hers, until their foreheads were touching. Blake could not stop the dragon-like creature that inhabited his soul from reaching out towards her, upwards through his body, along his spine, into his brain and then through it until there was only darkness and the light of her. He had seen Marcelo in this form once, and even then it had been beautiful and awe-inspiring, but seeing Jade this way was even more so! She radiated and sparkled with a pinkish glow, the ever-changing shape of her spirit was probably the most beautiful thing he had ever seen in his entire existence.

It's true!

You're beautiful.

So are you.

All this time... and I never realised.

It did not matter, I loved you as a human first.

As did I.

I'm not alone anymore.

You never were.

I don't understand... how did you get here? Why are you still here?

We crashed, my Protector and me. She did not survive.

When?

Six human lifetimes.

So it's true then. What the Father said about the lost ones. We thought you were deserters.

Not deserters. Stranded... as you have been.

All this time? Without knowing?

Not knowing has helped. But now we have found each other.

Yes.

This place. It is familiar.

How?

This is where she died. My Protector. Where we crashed.

The Mountain of the Dragon?

Yes. Right here.

And your ship?

Hidden.

They separated then, the contact between them lost as Blake stepped away. The sensation of the human form surrounding him again took some getting used to, made him feel heavy and sluggish. He was looking into her human eyes again, those green portals of indescribable beauty. Switching between the love he had for her as a Ka spirit, and the love he felt as a human was so natural, yet simultaneously strange and wonderful.

"This is incredible." She breathed, her heart racing.

"It's here." He said.

"The ship?"

"And the Communicator."

"Where is it hidden?"

Blake turned and pointed back towards the dark recess of the entrance to Sinclair's Cave. "It's in there. It always has been. You were right."

She tossed the rucksack and sleeping bags to the ground, beaming brightly. He did the same and then they walked hand in hand back into the cave, allowing their eyes to become accustomed to the dimness. There was enough sunlight streaming through the entrance to allow them to navigate across the floor of rounded boulders, past the little makeshift table she had used to prepare supper before Idris had appeared the night before, until they were standing at the rear of the small cave, staring at the immense wall of rock before them.

"What now?" she asked excitedly.

The energising sensation was still in Blake's hands, and he instinctively raised them up, palms facing the immovable face of the rock wall. The Trembling was vibrating within him, swirling upwards with a forcefulness that he had was still becoming accustomed to. It left his outstretched hands, slamming into the wall and flowing across it the way water would, the tiny tentacles of light defying gravity as they probed each and every tiny crack in the façade, feeling their way across the surface, until they covered it completely, a pulsing blanket of energy. As if the tentacles had found some unseen latch, some secret levers, the wall of rock appeared to shift for an instant, playing tricks on their eyes as it moved, yet did not. As they watched the wall seemed to be breaking up, disappearing in tiny granules of sand as the light-blanket absorbed it, consumed it. The sight was accompanied by a low rumble of sound, a hum of electricity and energy. Within moments the wall had vanished, disappearing as if it had never existed. The energy flowed backwards into Blake's hands again, until it was gone, leaving them staring at the new section of cave that had been revealed, once hidden by thousands of tons of rock. The sight of the craft brought tears to Jade's eyes, as she immediately flashed back to the last time she had seen one, so many years ago! This one was badly damaged, beyond repair most likely, but it was instantly recognizable. From their human perspective it seemed tiny, almost toy-like, not much bigger than a four-wheeler motorcycle, but for who they were in their original shape, it made perfect sense.

Blake walked over to it, crouching down to run his hands along the rear of it, until he found a tiny latch that opened a compartment on the side. He reached into the little hole, feeling around for a moment, before he yanked hard on something, and a clicking metal sound followed. He withdrew his hand, turning to face Jade. As he opened his palm, revealing the tiny metallic object in it, crafted from material that human eyes had never seen, he smiled broadly.

"We're going home!"

The joy of the spoken words were overshadowed by the realisation that Marcelo was not around to experience the moment with them. A moment he had spent his whole human life hoping and praying for.

### Chapter 34

"Does it work?" Jade asked, as they made their way back towards the warm sunshine at the entrance of the cave.

"Not in here." Blake shook his head. "These stone walls block the signal, which is why I never used it in the first place."

The memories of that night so very long ago had returned in full force, and he told Jade the story of what had happened, of how they had crashed near the entrance to Sinclair's Cave before it had even been named that. Realising he could not save the life force of his Protector, he had been distraught and distracted. He moved the craft into the cave to hide it from sight, with the intention of using the Communicator outside to inform the Fathers of their misfortune, but he was interrupted by the sounds of impi war cries from nearby, and he hid the craft behind the secret wall instead. Before he even realised it the Zulu's were upon him. They had been hunting nearby when the ship had crashed, had seen the strange lights and heard the commotion, and had come to investigate. The sight of the glowing dragon-shaped creature must have frightened them terribly, and they attacked, throwing spears and stones at him, but of course these had no effect. In an effort to calm them down, he had inhabited the body of one of the men, a tall and feared warrior, who would have died a few weeks later after being bitten by a boomslang, a native South African snake – deadly, especially in those days. Once he was in human form, he managed to calm them down, and explain to them, in a language they understood, where he had come from and why. The men were in awe of him, in awe of his arrival, and they kept referring to him as the light-dweller. He found himself being led back to their village in the valley below, where he had to repeat his wonderful tale to the local Chief, a cynical old man who had little time for the insane ranting's of his loyal soldiers.

Afraid that the bewitching tale might insight his followers into a rebellion, and to prove that the crazy man was nothing more than a human, despite what he was telling them, the Chief arranged his assassination by the hands of a young and fearsome impi warrior, eager to impress and to prove himself, a man by the name of Shaka, who snuck into his hut later that night and slit his throat to earn his seat at the right hand of the Chief. It was too late then to ever go back to the ship and use the Communicator. His Ka soul was trapped in the dead body of the warrior, until it eventually moved on to another soul, new-born this time and destined not to live past the womb. With this new life came new memories, the craft and his ancestry buried together for eternity in some dark and inaccessible recess... until now. He died four more times as a human, over the course of the next three hundred years, forgetting more and more of who he was and where he had come from each time. It was this sixth life, the life of Blake Turner – engineer, son and brother, which had led him to find himself once again.

"That's so incredible." Jade sighed. "And to think that we would meet one day amongst all the millions of souls on Earth! What are the odds of that, really?"

"It was always our destiny." Blake smiled. "Now let's do what we came here to do."

They found a spot nearby, a flat rock protruding over the edge of a nearby cliff, overlooking the wide expanse below. Blake placed the Communicator in the centre of the rock, gently pressing the sides of it once before releasing it. The little device activated immediately, whirring gently as the mechanism inside it sprung to life. They watched as the Communicator started rotating slowly, spinning in a slow lazy circle, until it lifted off the ground a few inches. The intensity of the spinning increased, until it was only a blur against the backdrop of the orange-brown rock below it. The faster it span, the more it began to sing – a humming sound that rose in pitch, until eventually it was all almost inaudible. After several seconds a burst of energy erupted from the device, sending puffs of sand and dust hurtling away from it in a circular pattern for a few meters. The spinning slowed immediately and within moments the Communicator had come to rest again on the rock, motionless as before.

"Did it work?" Jade asked, curiously.

Blake picked the Communicator up, holding it in his palm. "I'm not sure. I don't really remember how..." His words were interrupted by a clicking sound as the Communicator moved in his palm, extending pieces of itself out from all four sides, until it was almost cross-shaped. A small blinking green light had appeared at the point of one of these extensions, and as Blake changed direction, the light appeared to switch from green to red.

"It's like some sort of digital compass." He said excitedly. "I guess we have to follow the green light, right?"

"Which direction?"

Blake turned his body until the flashing light was directly in front of him. He was facing south, along the shape of the Drakensberg, back towards the South-Eastern coastline of the country.

"That way, I guess."

"A beach." Jade smiled. "It will be at a beach, I'm sure of it!"

"Well, I hope you packed your costume then."

"Where we're going, we don't need it." She smiled, and there was an excitement in her eyes that radiated throughout her body. She hugged him then, intensely, and he hugged her back. When they eventually came apart, they gathered their bags and made their way back off the mountain, back towards the distant reserve of Giant's Castle. The going was mostly downhill, and seemed to go a lot faster than their trip up the mountain in the first place. The excitement of what waited for them somewhere in the distant south probably had a lot to do with their energized bodies, and for the moment all else was forgotten – except the loss of their friend, which stayed on the back of their minds, especially Blake's. The further off the mountain they got, the more distance they placed between them and Marcelo's resting place. Blake couldn't help but feel a touch of guilt at the fact that they were leaving him behind now, but he tried to find some solace in knowing that the man would experience a new existence and the thrill and fear of being human, being mostly human, for himself. An adventure that was worth the journey regardless.

The sun was almost setting by the time they found themselves on the single lane path near the Castle Gate reserve, and before they knew it they were back at the lodge, packing their bags hastily and heading for the car. They pulled out of the main gates just as the sun went down, and Blake had switched the headlights on, lighting the narrow gravel road ahead of them, as they sped towards the nearby town of Rosetta, and from there back to the N2 which would lead them towards the coast again. As they passed the sleeping town, lit only by a few pale yellow streetlights, Jade squeezed Blake's hand. He knew that it was her way of saying goodbye, and thank you, to the woman that had inspired this journey in the first place. Elisabeth Klarer would be smiling in her grave right now, knowing that she had been right all along, and that despite what the world had thought, she was not crazy, and there really was life on other planets.

The gravel became tar as they made their way through Kwa-Zulu Natal, headed back towards East London and the Eastern Cape, following the slow blinking green light of the Communicator. They spoke about home, a place that Blake could barely remember, but that Jade knew intimately. It was a warm and carefree conversation, the kind they had once had over wine and lasagne, before everything had changed forever.

They stopped at a roadhouse in Umtata, where Blake suggested they get something to eat. It had been countless hours since they had eaten anything, and he was starting to feel the hunger pains coming on. They ordered cheese burgers and then sat in the car as they ate. The little place was packed with people, despite the fact that it was almost midnight. Blake couldn't help but notice how different everybody looked to him now.

"Is this how you see us, all the time?"

"What do you mean?" Jade asked.

"The glowing... the aura's I guess."

"Oh, that." She chuckled. "Yes. You get used to it."

"It's strangely beautiful." He added.

"And frightening... look." She directed his attention towards a nearby customer, seated on a wooden bench to the side of the parking area. The man was sitting with a woman, probably his wife. She had a beautiful rosy glow around her, the kind that left no doubt in anyone's imagination that she was a good-hearted soul. Her husband, on the other hand, was surrounded by a darkness so thick and repulsive that it almost hurt to look at him.

"Wow." Blake gasped. "I've never seen anything like that before!"

"Look closer." Jade said.

"What do you mean?"

"Closer... project your mind towards him."

Blake did as Jade instructed, concentrating on the shape of the man, trying to force his mind towards him. The Trembling stirred briefly inside of him, and without warning he found himself, his mind, rushing across the parking area to where the man sat, until he was breathing in the black mulch of the aura that surrounded him. It stank of sewer and piss and shit. Back in the car, Blake struggled to keep his food down.

"Concentrate." Jade urged.

Blake refocused, ignoring the stench, and looked instead into the darkness of the man. Almost instantly he saw an image, played in his mind as if on a movie projector, the man standing over his wife, who lay bleeding on a creamy luxurious carpet, her blood soaking into the fibres. There was such a rage in her husband, it filled every ounce of him, spilling out into the air around him. He was breathing heavily, his hands covered in her blood, the golf club in his right hand dripping slowly with it. Above all this, Blake sensed the one thing that really upset him – there was no remorse. There was joy in the killing. The sensation made him cringe with disgust, and he pulled away from the aura, returning instantly to the car again.

"Oh my God."

"This is why we are needed." Jade sighed. "Look..."

She pointed out the window towards the people that were walking through the parking lot, and Blake now noticed how many of them had similar auras to the killer husband. Amidst all the rosy, yellow and sometimes white glowing, there were several black auras. They belonged to smiling, happy and normal looking people, but as Blake glanced over each one he could sense the truth.

Rapist.

Murderer.

Child Molester.

Murderer.

"I've lost my appetite." He said, tossing the remains of his burger into a plastic bag.

"You learn to adjust to it." Jade smiled, squeezing his hand. "Let's get going."

"Not yet." Blake said, opening his door.

"Where are you going?"

Blake ignored her and crossed the parking lot instead, headed towards the nearby row of small wooden benches. He stopped at the table where the husband and wife were eating, and they looked up at him in surprise. The wife smiled briefly, and Blake noticed the yellowing remains of a bruise on her left cheek and eye.

"Forgive me." Blake smiled. "I'm travelling from Durban, headed for East London. I seem to have lost direction. Could you point me in the direction of the highway?"

"Sure." The husband said, turning in his seat and pointing back towards the main road. "Just follow that road to the left and you will see the turnoff."

Blake couldn't help but notice how the man's black aura seemed to swirl around him each time he moved, like black jelly.

"Thank you." He smiled, reaching out his hand to the man. The husband took it, and the moment they made contact Blake felt the Trembling course through his skin and into the hand of the stranger. He couldn't have felt anything, because he did not react to the sensation at all. Blake held on for a moment longer than necessary, before removing his hand.

"You have a good life." He said to the woman, before turning and heading back to the car. As he climbed in and started the engine he noticed Jade staring at him, smiling.

"You can't help everybody." She said. "As much as you'd like to. There are just too many."

"I could help one." Blake grunted, putting the car into gear and speeding out of the car park and back onto the road. He was trying not to think about what punishment the universe would be throwing at the wife-killing husband, but he knew it would be justifiable, and would suit the crime. As for the woman, he could only hope that she would move forward onto better things, subconsciously knowing how close she had come to death.

### Chapter 35

The kilometres sped past, and before they knew it they were entering Blake's home town again, turning off the N2 onto the North-East expressway, passing familiar suburbs and landmarks. The blinking light on the Communicator had started increasing in speed, the closer they got to the coast, and by the time they were heading past the airport it was racing at a furious pace! They were close, so close! As they passed through the city, beyond the airport and onto the R72 which led towards Port Alfred, the light changed direction, switching from the southern axis to the eastern, and Blake had to slow down and look for an exit. There was a signboard that read 'Igoda/Winterstrand', and they took the turn, a bumpy pot-hole filled road that had them slackening down to a crawling pace.

The light switched several times after that, leading them through the little village of Winterstrand, a beautiful coastal suburb that sported fabulous double-story homes facing the seafront, then onto a tiny gravel road that snaked through the Cove Rock Nature Reserve, until the road came to sudden end in a cul-de-sac at the ocean's edge. They parked the car on the side of the road, the crashing sound of waves replacing the sound of the engine as Blake turned it off. The dashboard clock read 02h30. They had driven through the night, and now they had run out of road.

"Shall we?" Blake opened his door and stepped out. The fresh smell of the ocean slammed into him immediately, the saltiness of the air a familiar and pleasant taste. There was one single lamp pole, with a pale light which lit the tiny area. Jade joined him in the headlights of the car, as they walked towards a nearby pathway which led the way down to the expansive and deserted moonlit beach below. They paused at the top of the path, looking out over the endless stretch of beach, at the white foam of the waves as they cascaded up onto it in a gentle ebbing motion.

"It's a perfect spot." Jade smiled, her arm around Blake's midriff.

"It is beautiful."

He glanced down at the Communicator in his hand, the green light had stopped blinking now, and was on permanently. This was the spot, there was no doubt in his mind. He marvelled at the technology of the Ka species, and wondered how much of human technology had been adapted or learnt from visitors like themselves? The advancement of the human race over the past century had been accelerated beyond imagination. More had been developed in the past hundred years, than in a thousand before. Was this just luck? Or did the Ka have something to do with that too?

"So now what?" he asked.

"Now we wait." Jade smiled.

As if in answer to her statement, a bright light suddenly appeared from above, blinding them momentarily. Blake shielded his eyes as he tried to make out where the light was coming from, but the wind had come up and was now blowing sea sand into his face! He pulled Jade towards him to shield her from the stinging sand, as he tried desperately to get a glimpse of the craft that had come to take them home. The whirring sound above them was getting louder now, and the closer it got, the more familiar it became. It was only when the light was momentarily shifted that he spotted the craft and realized that it wasn't the one they were expecting!

The helicopter had descended to only a few meters above them, and a human voice hailed from a loudspeaker over the roar of the blades.

"This is the South African National Defence Force. Do not move! You are surrounded."

As if by some silent cue, a small fleet of military vehicles raced into the cul-de-sac from all sides, surrounding them completely in the headlights and bright spotlights. The chopper noise doubled as a second helicopter appeared over the rise to their left. Blake held tightly onto Jade, protecting her in his arms.

"Leave us alone!" he screamed at them, waving his arm angrily towards the nearest helicopter.

"Do not move!" the warning voice came again from the loudspeaker. "We have orders to shoot if you attempt anything."

"I can take them." Blake said loudly into Jade's ear.

"No." She grabbed him tightly by the shirt, holding him near. "There are too many. They will kill you."

"I'm not letting them take you!" Blake cried. "We're so close."

"It's not your responsibility, Blake."

"Marcelo would have fought them off!"

"Marcelo is dead!" she cried. "And you will be too. Please, Blake. I can't lose you as well. I will never forgive myself. Let it go. Let me go."

The words pierced his heart with more impact than any bullet would have had. The thought of losing her now, after everything, after discovering who he really was, it felt like death anyway.

"Where you go, I go... remember?"

She looked up at him now with tear-filled eyes and placed her hand gently on the side of his face. "Always. But think about it. They don't know about you, Blake. You could live a normal life here, a life not spent looking over your shoulder every two minutes. You could help so many people, save so many lives! Change the world... Giving that up for me doesn't make any sense."

He blinked away tears of his own as he watched her mouth forming the words, and then he leant forward and kissed her hard on the lips.

"I love you." He said, as they came apart.

"I love you too."

He stepped away from her then and raised his hands in the air, getting down on his knees. She smiled down at him and mouthed the silent words: Thank you.

The helicopters landed a short distance away and cut their engines, restoring calm to the world again. There was a flurry of activity from the nearby military vehicles as what seemed like an entire platoon of SANDF soldiers peeled out of them, rushing up to form a half-moon around the couple, rifles raised and cocked, little red dots aimed at their chests and head. This was it, Blake thought. This was how it would end. The line of soldiers separated as a tall, official looking military-type man approached them, accompanied by a short, chubby well-tanned man in a tailored white business suit which seemed so out of place for where they were. The pair stopped a few feet away from them, before the taller man, obviously a general or something, spoke.

"Jade Vega, I presume?"

"Yes. What is this?" Jade replied.

"A favour." The General replied, smiling. "For my colleague and good friend here. I believe you two know each other? Isn't that right, Mr. White?"

The shorter man seemed nervous, and could not take his eyes off of Jade.

"I've never seen him before in my life." Jade replied, studying the curious gentleman. "But I know what you've done – to me, and to my friends."

"We have met. A long time ago." The business-suited Mr. White mumbled nervously.

"Not that I can remember. I'm sorry."

"Well, there will be plenty time for catch up later." The General chuckled. "We don't want to be here for too long, these sort of exercises can attract a lot of attention, if you know what I mean. Before we go, though... I believe we will need this." He pulled a syringe from his pocket and waved it in the air. "Methaquolone, I hear it's quite effective for someone of your... abilities. Do you mind?"

"I do actually." Jade replied.

"Ah. Well... then we do it the hard way, I guess. Kill him." He gestured towards Blake, and Jade immediately raised her hands in protest even as the nearby soldiers raised their rifles.

"No. Please. It's okay. I'll take the drug. Just let Blake go."

"We have absolutely no interest in Mr. Turner at all." The General smiled. "As soon as we have you on board, we'll be out of his hair."

"Where are you taking me?" Jade asked.

"That would be up to Mr. White."

She shifted her gaze towards the nervous looking man to the General's right.

"Who are you working for? The Brazilian government? NASA?"

"It doesn't matter right now." The man said apologetically. "Please, we need to go."

"No." Jade shook her head. "We talk about it now. You're the one that hired Idris Mdoda to find us and bring us back, right? All these years you've been hunting us like dogs! I think I deserve an answer, don't you, Mr. White?" She said the name with disgust, as if it tasted of Brussel sprouts.

"There is much to explain." He muttered. "But let's talk about this when we get home."

"Home?" Jade laughed now. "Where do you think home is for me? A Brazilian secret prison somewhere? Why? Why have you gone to all this trouble? Why couldn't you just leave us the hell alone?"

"No, no... no prison." Mr. White shook his head vehemently. "It's not like that at all. Please, if you just come with I will explain everything."

"Your fucking puppet, Idris, killed my best friend... he was like a father to me! And you expect me to trust you?"

"I would never hurt you."

"Enough!" The General yelled suddenly, raising his hand. "Either allow me to give you the drug, or I kill your friend. It's as simple as that. We do not have the time!"

"Fine." Jade sighed, her shoulders slumping. "Do it." She tilted her head to the side, exposing her bare neck. The General approached her, syringe in hand. He stopped a few inches away, towering imposingly over her.

"Hmm." He muttered, breathing in the scent of her deeply. "You smell almost as good as you look."

"Thank you." Jade smiled, before she suddenly grabbed the hand that was holding the syringe and thrust it upwards, stabbing the General in the throat with it. This seemed to have caught everyone by surprise, and for an instant nobody moved an inch, but as the General collapsed to the floor, paralyzed by the effects of the powerful horse tranquilizer, the world seemed to come alive! There were startled shouts from some of the soldiers, and the nervous Mr. White took several steps backwards towards the row of parked vehicles behind them.

Jade turned towards Blake and screamed. "Run, Blake! Run for your life!"

Before he could move an inch, the shooting started. The sound of rapid gunfire piercing through the air was terrifying.

"No!" Blake screamed, realizing that Jade was in the firing line, and that he was not going to be able to get to her in time. It took a moment for him to also realize that she had not run from the bullets, in fact, she had not budged at all. She stood her ground as the platoon opened fire, and instead of bullets thudding into her body, they seemed to be missing her, as if pushed aside by some invisible force! He could see the barrier then, it was shaped like a barely visible bubble, surrounding both her and himself, and the hundreds of bullets that were being fired at them were being caught in this bubble, suspended in mid-air, all around them. After several terrifying seconds the firing stopped, as the soldiers realised they were having no effect on her at all. The bubble-field vibrated slightly, followed by the jingling sound of bullets as they knocked against each other in their suspended state, and Blake watched in amazement as Jade crouched down, knee on the ground, before she suddenly shot up straight again. The action appeared to have released the invisible field, pushed it outwards, and with it the hundreds of bullets were returned towards their owners at supersonic speed! In that one motion Jade had returned fire all at once!

The thudding and clanging sound of bullets ripping through flesh and ricocheting off vehicles, filled the air. In an instant the platoon was reduced to a bunch of groaning and screaming men. The few that had avoided being hit had begun raising their rifles again, but Jade spun around in a circle, arms raised, the way a ballet dancer may have done at the Orient Theatre during Saturday matinee, and the gesture sent a secondary wave of unseen energy towards them, lifting them up off the ground and hurling them away into the distance, along with most of the vehicles and both helicopters – as if they were nothing but toy models – until there was nothing left in the clearing except for a solitary Hummer and an overturned truck.

"Holy shit." Blake whispered, staring up at Jade where she stood a few feet from him.

Jade marched over to the Hummer, and pulled the frightened Mr. White out from behind it, dragging him back towards the now dimly lit clearing, filled with the smoke of gunfire and little else.

"What do you want with me?" she yelled furiously at him, and Blake had never seen her so angry before.

The little man collapsed to his knees, the dirt on his white suit so out of place, his hands raised in fear.

"Please. Please don't kill me."

"Why not?" she yelled again, grabbing him by the collar. "This will all be over then, won't it? If you're dead I have nothing left to worry about. If it wasn't for you all these years, I may have had some normality of a life! I may have been able to go home long ago! That's all I wanted. All I ever wanted!"

"I'm sorry!" he begged. "I was only trying to..."

"Trying to what? Tell me! Tell me now, or I swear to God I will rip your fucking head right off your shoulders!"

"My name is not White!" he cried suddenly. "It's not White. That was just a stupid nickname Idris Mdoda gave me. My real name is Roberto Vegato."

"Vegato?" Jade asked. "So you're Brazilian?"

"Yes." He sighed. "I had no intention of ever hurting you, or your friends. What happened to your partner, it was a terrible mistake in judgement."

"A mistake? He's fucking dead!"

"I know, and I apologize for that."

"Enough of the bullshit!" Jade spat. "What do you want from me?"

For a moment she could sense a sadness in him, and then he started sobbing uncontrollably, his body slumping as he bowed his shaking head. "I was only doing what any father would do... trying to bring his daughter home... trying to bring you home..."

### Chapter 36

Jade felt the fight go out of her instantly, and she let go of the man. As he fell forward on all fours, she took a step backwards, dazed and confused.

"What are you talking about?" She breathed. "I don't know you... we've never met. You're not my father... could never be."

He sat back on his haunches, looking up at her sadly, and fresh tears had formed in his eyes. "My brother was Marcelo Vegato, and my daughter was Jade Vegato. We lived in Varghina in 1996, the year your ship came. You and the other one came into my house, and you took my family! You... entered them... and then you took them away. My beautiful daughter... she ... you... were only eight years old! All I ever wanted was to find you... to get you back!"

Jade collapsed to her knees in front of the man, her shoulders slumped.

"Oh my God..." She whispered.

"God left us that day." Vegato sighed. "I had already lost your mother to cancer in the same year, and you were all that I had left! My only living relative! When Mr. Mdoda came to see me after the FBI had dismissed him, and he offered to help me find you, how could I refuse? How could anyone in my position refuse? But I was specific in my request – he was not to harm you!"

"So you funded him?"

"Every cent I have earned in my lifetime went towards finding you. As quickly as I made money, I handed it over to Idris Mdoda. Cars, plane tickets, mercenaries... they all came at a cost – but none that could compare to the cost of losing my only child!"

"I'm so sorry." Jade said sadly. "But it's not what you think... your daughter, your brother... they were dying. By taking their bodies, we were only helping."

Roberto Vegato looked up now, his eyes red. "This is not true."

"It is." Jade replied. "I can show you."

She reached towards him, and he instinctively backed away.

"It's okay." She said gently. "Please?"

He studied her for a moment, and then he seemed to submit to her as he bowed his head. She placed her hand on the top of it, allowing the Trembling to flow through her and into him.

He closed his eyes as the images filled them. The house in Varginha that he had built with his own two hands, the pretty porch where he would sit with his family on a Sunday afternoon listening to radio broadcasts of the local football games, now dark and empty. A warm light through the kitchen window, and inside at a rickety kitchen table they sat – Marcelo and Jade, his beautiful Jade, playing Go Fish with a worn deck of cards. They were laughing and smiling – as he remembered them! The house swirled away in a dark fog, replaced by the familiar scene of a schoolyard, where he would wait at the gate to fetch her some days. She was on the field, and it must have been break time, as she ran around happily with her friends, barefoot as she always was and loved to be. She was laughing, but then she stopped suddenly. She was walking towards him, distracted from her games, and there was a fear in her blank, yet beautiful eyes. She made only a few short steps before she fell to the ground suddenly, convulsing violently, foam and blood mixing as she bit her tongue. Her friends were screaming now, and calling for the teacher or anybody who could help. But it was too late. A final gasp for air and then... nothing.

The schoolyard became a graveyard filled with mourning friends, and he was there. He was standing in front of that small brown coffin, ignoring the rain that fell and covered everything in its cold touch. A father grieving silently for a daughter that he loved so much. He could feel the pain and the heartache, as if he were there right now.

Roberto Vegato sobbed uncontrollably as the images passed through his mind via her hand. When Jade eventually let go, he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and dried his eyes, swallowing hard to get the words out.

"A tumour. I felt it. I could see..."

"Inoperable." Jade nodded. She took his hand. "We never take a life unlived. I know that it's a small comfort, but I'm hoping you can forgive me for what you have been put through. Not knowing all these years..."

Vegato shook his head. "I understand now. And you have given me the opportunity to see my little girl again, all grown up now. Alive and well. And even more beautiful." He smiled.

"This... is just her body." Jade squeezed his hand. "Your daughter died a long time ago. You understand that, right?"

"I prefer to imagine otherwise, if that's okay?" he smiled sadly. "It hurts... less."

"Of course." Jade nodded, feeling the pain this man was feeling. She leaned forward and hugged him, embracing the warmth of his almost invisible aura. When they finally came apart she stood up, brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "What happens now? What will you do?"

"There is nothing else left but for me to go home." Vegato shrugged, and then added. "And you should do the same. Both of you." He added, glancing at Blake.

"Thank you." Jade smiled. "For allowing me to live through her all these years. It was a great honour."

Vegato got unsteadily up to his feet. He took her hand in his again, holding on for a moment as he smiled at her, his eyes studying the familiarity of hers. He seemed about to speak, but then changed his mind, before he turned silently and walked away into the darkness beyond the light of the lamp pole, forcing himself not looking back, even one more time.

Blake stood up and dusted himself off, looking around at the now deserted cul-de-sac.

"Well, that was awkward."

"He was just a father, doing what fathers do for their children."

"This is a complicated life you live." Blake smiled. "I don't know how you do it. So how long do you think it will be before people start noticing that military trucks and helicopters have landed in their swimming pools and all hell breaks loose?"

"Not long." Jade smiled. "I may have got just a little upset."

"A little? Remind me never to get on your bad side."

"That could never happen." She smiled.

The magnetic thumping sound came out of nowhere suddenly, emanating downwards from the heavens above, and they both turned simultaneously to look out along the moonlit beach. A bank of dark rolling clouds had formed above the ocean near the shoreline, and flashes of lightning were coming from it, preceded by the monotonous drone they were hearing

"Is that..."

"It's the Fathers." Jade breathed. "Come!"

She led the way down the little walkway that led to the beach, and as her feet touched the sand she kicked off her shoes, pulling off her shirt and the jeans she was wearing. Underneath those she wore only a short satin nightgown, which seemed to glow in the silver reflections of the soft moonlight as the material hugged the exquisite shape of her body.

"Let's go!" she exclaimed happily, and she ran ahead of him down the beach towards the water's edge. Blake followed behind, kicking off his shoes to be barefoot as well.

The ship descended from the clouds in a blinding white light, a silvery oval-shaped machine that was almost reflective in texture. It hovered near the ground a few hundred meters ahead of them, and a long walkway extended from it, resting gently on the hard wet sand. It seemed to be made of nothing but pure light, as it shimmered in tiny waves of pastel-electric colours. Blake remembered the reference in Elisabeth Klarer's book to the Lightning Bird, and he could truly understand why the Zulu's had referenced it as such. It was a beautiful sight, on a beautiful beach, in beautiful moonlight, and seeing it for the first time that he could remember was an experience he knew he would never forget. The craft signified everything towards which they had been working all this time – it was a beacon of hope, the candle in the window, the way home.

He stopped walking then, midway between the pathway from the beach and the ship, the sand beneath his feet cold from being caressed by the gentle waves of the ocean. Jade noticed that he wasn't following anymore, and turned around to face him.

"What is it?" she asked, walking back towards him, frowning, her hair swept wildly across her face by the wind from behind.

He shoved his hands in his pockets. "This is me. This is as far as I can go."

"What are you talking about?" Jade laughed nervously. "You're one of us now."

"Am I?" Blake kicked at the wet sand beneath his feet. "All I've known, every real memory I've ever had... is human. Everything before I arrived on this planet is a distant dream. But my time here... my lives here... the people I've known and been... those were all real. This is real – the sand, the beach, the waves. This is who I am."

"But we can live new lives... back on Ka." Jade said, a confused expression on her face. "It's everything we've worked towards..."

"It's everything you've worked towards." Blake smiled. "Which is why you need to go. Why I need to let you go."

"I don't understand. Don't you love me?"

"I do." Blake swallowed back a tear. "More than anything could be loved." He looked back along the beach towards the distant city lights. "But I can make a difference here. I'm as human as I am Ka, and this... this is my home now."

A single tear tracked down her cheek, and she looked away towards the ocean for a moment, swallowing hard to keep her composure. She was so beautiful in the moonlight, and Blake couldn't take his eyes off of her for an instant – he hadn't since the day they had met. Finally she raised her arms, letting them fall to her side again before lifting her shoulders begrudgingly and facing him again.

"I think I understand." She smiled. "I really do. Will you walk with me, then? One last time?"

Blake nodded, slipping his hand into hers as they turned and made their way towards where the craft waited patiently. He could feel the Trembling quivering excitedly inside of him at the sight of the ship, at what it signified, yet simultaneously he could feel his human heart thumping in his chest, could feel the brush of the gentle sea breeze on his cheeks, and could taste the salt of the ocean in his mouth. He could even feel the soft touch of her hand in his as he lazily moved his thumb over it.

They paused a few meters away from the craft, and Jade turned to face him. She leaned forward and kissed him gently on the lips, and he could taste the saltiness of her tears as they streamed down her face now.

"Goodbye, Blake Turner."

"Goodbye, Jade Vega.'

She smiled once more, resting her hand briefly on his chest before turning and making her way towards the ship. He fell to his knees as he watched her leave. A part of him was silently screaming out for her to stay, but another part was saying no in the gentlest voice, and it was the latter that he heard the loudest, because above all else it was human.

She paused at the edge of the light-wielding ramp, the wind from the motion of the ship's propulsion system sweeping her hair wildly back and forth and pressing the thin silkiness of her shiny nightgown against the perfect curves of her young body. To Blake she appeared to be made of silver, as if she and the ship were of the same material, as if they were one at long last, destined to be together. He was still on his knees on the cold sand of the beach, shielding his eyes from the blinding lights with his raised arm as he waited for her to board the craft, a moment that had been long overdue and that had come with so many sacrifices. She turned and looked at him then, her face bathed in shadow.

"Will you love me forever?" she asked, raising her voice above the roar of the tumultuous wind that swirled around them.

Blake nodded. He couldn't swallow the knot that had formed in his throat, nor could he prevent the aching human sensation of sadness that seemed to be filling his chest, but he yelled back. "Until I die... again."

She smiled briefly, brushing her long hair from her face. She turned then and faced the ship of her forefathers, and Blake wasn't sure what was being said, but the glimmering, almost blindingly beautiful lights of the craft seemed to be responding to her telepathically – a silent conversation amidst the turmoil of the ships presence on the beach. The ship hummed erratically, as if the sound were silent words that Blake no longer understood. After a while, Jade took a step backwards and the light-ramp retracted slowly away from her. Blake got to his feet, raising his hands to his head in dismay.

"What are you doing!" he yelled, but his words were blown away by the roar of sound as the ship lifted off the ground. The pure force of the wind held him back as he tried to move towards her, buffeting his body violently. And then, in an instant, the craft disappeared upwards in a blinding light, leaving him stumbling forward in the dark stillness of the deserted beach, lit only by the pale face of the full moon. He regained his balance and looked towards the sky in confusion, but above him there were only the twinkling stars of the Milky Way amidst the solid vacuum of unending space – the ship gone as if it had never even existed.

She was standing there in the sudden calm, facing him as she tucked her hair in behind her ears, the way she had done so many times before, making his heart race each and every time, the way only she knew how to do.

"Why?" he cried softly. "Why Jade?"

She walked towards him until she was only inches away, looking up at him lovingly as her eyes sparkled with a happy sadness and a hint of something else...

She stood on her tiptoes then and kissed him gently on the lips again, lingering there for a moment before pulling back.

"I'm the other half of you."

"That's really sweet." Blake shook his head. "But this was your one chance – maybe your only chance – to finally go home!"

She turned and looked back towards the soft glow of the city lights in the distance, a gentle smile forming on her face. Finally she turned to him again, her face more beautiful than ever in the eerie light.

"If you're here, then I'm already home." She whispered.

### Chapter 37

The sun danced drunken reflections across the surface of the water as the ocean broke into tiny waves that kissed the sun-swept beach. The warm oranges and reds in the sky made a beautiful backdrop to the endless stretch of white sand being gently caressed by the slow pulse of the ocean. There were several pools of water in the rockier sections of the coastline, remnants of the high tide that had passed, and they reflected the calmness of the dying day in the mirror-like surface of the water. The young boy dashed quickly through one of these pools, disturbing the glassy reflection and splashing water up onto his tiny sun-browned legs, squealing in delight.

"Marcel, be careful." The woman called out to the child, as she walked a few feet behind on the sand, holding the hand of the tall man beside her.

Blake Turner smiled down at her. "Leave the boy."

Jade looked warmly up at him. "I'm sorry. I'm being over-protective again, aren't I?"

"He's fine." Blake replied. "He's just being young and carefree."

"He reminds me of you."

"Cute and adorable?"

"No, stubborn and independent. A little bit cute, I suppose." She added, smiling.

The boy ran back towards them, sand flying beneath his feet. He jumped directly into Blake's arms, laughing as he was swung around and then hoisted up onto Blake's shoulders and neck.

Jade laughed with them, as she opened the cover on her iPad. She flicked her fingers across the screen, opening an app that showed a map of the globe. There were a multitude of yellow flashing dots across it, the silent signals of active personal Communicators, spread across all the continents of Earth.

"What's that, Mommy?" Marcel asked, eagerly peering down at the screen and pointing.

"Well" Jade replied, "Do you see this little yellow dot here?" She pointed at a spot on the map near the southern-most tip of Africa.

"Yes?"

"Well, that's me and you and Daddy. And all these others are our brothers and sisters in the world."

"And how are the numbers today?" Blake asked curiously.

"There are around five hundred. At least fifty more than yesterday."

"That's fantastic, darling. I guess you made a convincing argument. Maybe there is still hope for this world."

She closed the app on her iPad and switched to YouTube, bringing up a video that she had bookmarked, and referenced often. Blake placed his arm around her waist as they watched the viral video together. It had already earned over four hundred thousand hits! On the screen, the image of two masked men, while between them a security guard floated in the air in foetal position, slowly rotating. After a moment one of the men, the one with his arms raised, lowered them suddenly, and the security guard pummelled hard into the ground. It was impossible not to recognize the short, stumpy figure of Marcelo Vega, despite the mask.

Blake chuckled. "We completely forgot to go back for that video."

"At least I get to see him every day." Jade smiled, a fondness in her voice. She snapped the tablet closed finally, seeming distracted, and staring out across the ocean as they continued walking. "Do you think there will ever be a day when we no longer have to hide who we really are?"

"I think we'll always be looking over our shoulder in one way or another." Blake replied. "The difference is that we're not alone anymore."

"What if the bad men find us, Daddy?" the boy asked, looking down at Blake from his perch on his father's shoulders. "Aren't you scared?"

Blake smiled, shaking his head. "Do you remember the story I told you about how your mother stopped an entire army once, all by herself, before you were born?"

Marcel nodded eagerly, it was his favourite bedtime tale.

"Well," Blake continued, "There are three of us here now, and hundreds more around the world. Even if they wanted to, I don't think there is a bad man in the world who could stop us, even if they wanted to. Besides, the Earth has enough problems of its own, and sooner or later they will realise we're just here to help."

"I hope so." Marcel said, frowning seriously for his age. "I love my home."

"We do too." Jade replied, reaching up and tousling his hair. "And we love you!"

The boy giggled happily, kicking his feet for his father to release him. Blake put the boy down, and he ran off along the beach again, pausing at a fairly large rock pool. They joined him there, their toes in the warm water.

"Do you think the Fathers sent the others again because of him?" Blake asked.

"He is one of a kind. And maybe they see hope now." She replied.

Blake stooped down and picked up a small flat pebble, showing it to Marcel.

"I think it's time I taught you how to skip stones. What do you say?"

Marcel nodded eagerly, while Blake held the pebble securely between his thumb and forefinger, showing him how to hold it just right, before bringing back his arm and flicking it forward, releasing it at the perfect moment. The pebble bounced three times across the pool, immediately sending tiny ripples across the reflected image of the burnt sky, ripples that quickly expanded until the pool consisted of nothing else. The symbolism did not escape Blake. This planet had been a confusion of ripples for thousands of years, its inhabitants constantly clashing with each other, always in disarray. Without their help, the ripples would never end, would simply continue to rebound and criss-cross and tremble until finally this beautiful planet would be nothing but a junkyard of distorted souls. They had not been sent here to invade, nor to conquer. Their purpose was stability. Soon enough human beings would realise this, and perhaps then they could live without the constant fear of being found or hunted down.

The young family watched the ripples until they all faded away, leaving the surface of the water calm again, reflecting the beautiful red sunset once more. With a little help from gravity and the rotational pull of the planet, the pool had returned to its former state. It was a little bit more complicated when it came to calming the human soul, though.

After a few moments they turned and made their way back, tracing their own footsteps in the sand as they walked hand in hand towards the nearby row of modest houses that stood so bravely along the edge of the wild and untamed ocean, threatened at any moment by the unpredictable forces of nature, yet fearless, nonetheless.

# # #

### A Letter to my Readers

If you enjoyed "The Trembling", or not, please be so kind as to leave a review here. In writing this tale, I found inspiration from various online reports of UFO activity across the southern hemisphere, specifically in South America and southern Africa. There is a lot we do not know about our universe, and the probability that we are completely alone in it is hard to swallow. I have always been fascinated by these types of things, and it felt like the right time to tell my version of how it might go down one day – or perhaps already has? The end result is a book I am proud of, not only for the theme, but also for the message in it that I hope you received with open arms – you get what you give! I surprisingly only found Elisabeth Klarer's book online when I was about 65000 words in, and I thought it would make a fitting accompaniment to the imaginings already in my head! All credit to her for the use of excerpts from it, and may she rest in peace after passing in 1994. (Ref: Beyond the Light Barrier – 1980)

I welcome comments about my writing, and you can contact me directly via email at 6string@webmail.co.za or feel free to post a comment on my website at http://waynerouxauthor.yolasite.com. Please don't forget to review the book at any of the sites where it is available, as a review is an author's greatest thank you gift from his readers and is always highly appreciated.

I also run a blog at http://www.waynerouxauthor.blogspot.com if you feel like keeping up to date with my crazy thoughts and inspirations. You can always follow and chat with me on Twitter: @WayneRoux Facebook: Wayne Roux Author

Thank you for reading my imaginings and, as always, never stop believing in those dreams.

Wayne Roux

### About the Author:

Wayne Roux was born in East London, South Africa in 1973, the second youngest of eight children. He started writing at the age of 14, but has only recently taken it up again full time. He is happily married to his wife, Joelene, and they have one daughter, Michaela. An avid poker player, music producer and writer, he has also penned the action sci fi thriller "The Days Beyond", his first novel, followed by the pre-apocalyptic tale of a mother, her son and their fight to save the world in "December Dead". Inspired by the boundless imaginings of King and Koontz, but in a style all his own, Wayne continues to make waves in the digital literary world, with thousands of downloads, five-star reviews and even probing offers of movie deals for his first novel already being thrown around. His motto in life is to never give up on your dreams, no matter how impossible they may seem, and he demonstrates this by continuously pursuing his own as an example to his friends and loved ones – especially his daughter and wife – the fuel to his flame!

Also by this author and available at Smashwords:

The Days Beyond (released in June 2013)

December Dead (released in December 2013)

