A white chute of energy rushed by and around Oliver as he snapped back through time. The force was so strong he could not scream or see. He just travelled forcefully through the energy line that had been opened by his enemy in the future. Oliver felt as if he was being hurled through a tunnel lined with broken glass at a thousand miles per second. Then it stopped.
Oliver hung there within the blue energy web, suspended in the alley that ran behind the Yang Sam Chinese Takeaway. Oliver slowly regained consciousness and turned in the web which was weakening its grip on him. It unraveled from around him and then slithered away back into the generator and evaporated from the present time. Oliver fell sharply to the floor four feet below. His head struck the concrete, grazing his face. He stretched out in pain on the alley floor. Oliver vomited a large volume of water and bile. As he collected himself he sensed his whole body was soaking with sweat. Vast amounts of perspiration had been generated from his experience of being kidnapped to the future. Oliver’s clothes were drenched, he kneeled up into a crouching position and vomited again.
Slowly he stood and steadied himself against the wall of the takeaway. With his head hanging down, his chin covered in vomit, Oliver had just one dominating question. Was his close friend Minnie really dead?
Oliver rummaged in his jean pocket for his phone. He pulled it out and checked it. The screen was blank and the surround blackened. The mobile looked like it had been damaged in a fire and was no use to him. Oliver rushed out of the alley onto Hildreth Street and looked up and down the deserted market stalls. The emergency generator hummed innocently. At the end of the street was a phone booth, Oliver ran towards it. He entered the booth, with its battered phone and graffiti covered signs. It stank of stale urine. Oliver pulled some change from his pocket and lifted the receiver. He fumbled for change, his breathing rapid with anxiety. Oliver tried to put a coin in the slot, it would not fit as it was bent. All his change was warped from the hot energy that had captured him and invaded his mind.
Oliver hit the receiver of the phone against the glass of the booth in frustration. He thought for a second trying to focus. He had to focus. Reverse charge, that’s what they call it, but could you do it to a mobile? The answer was no from the operator and there was no reply from Jamie’s landline.
Oliver knew it would take him more than half an hour to get to Battersea to find Jamie, assuming he was drinking locally. He had no idea where Mary would be. Oliver had only one choice he thought and he ran to the Balham underground station.
Oliver’s Oyster card would not register at the tube entrance, he had two twenty pound notes and they were thankfully intact if a little damp. Oliver figured his future foe had fucked him up enough for the day so a journey underground should be trouble free. He could not sit on the train as it worked its way up the Northern Line towards Waterloo. He drank a lucozade and ate some chocolate as his nausea had quickly been replaced with a famished hunger. He would need energy to be able to do the run from Waterloo to Hungerford Bridge.
Oliver rushed up the steep escalator passing those who stood still. He left the tube and ran the length of the concourse of the station. Oliver ran out of the station and sprinted down Waterloo Road, leaving it where it joined Belvedere Road.
Oliver, gasping for breath, slowed to a walking pace as Hungerford Bridge came into view. He felt sickening despair and grief at the sight of the bridge peppered with fluorescent jackets and bottle blue helmets and peaked caps. Arc lights shone across the river, searching the water. A helicopter was slowly following the path of the Thames. Oliver new any search would be hopeless.
The stairs to the bridge were guarded by two police officers who were turning anyone away who tried to cross. Another officer was cordoning the bridge off with Police tape. Oliver slumped onto a bench and dropped his head into his hands. He knew for sure Minnie was dead and he was an unwitting conspirator in his friends’ demise. He was numb with grief and furious with himself. A journey to give Jenny life had driven him too far, he was now the bringer of death. Oliver considered following Minnie into the river.