Read True Believers - Book Seven of the Connor True Series Page 1


True Believers

  By Andy Morris

  Copyright 2014 Andy Morris

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  ISBN 9781310806742

  Table of Contents

  True Believers

  About Andy Morris

  Discover Other Titles by Andy Morris

  Connect with Me

  Calling All Writers

  True Believers

  Connor decided not to drive home when he finished work. Instead he sat in his trusty yellow Jeep Wrangler listening to the gentle melodies of jazz legend Landry Tientcheu until his was the last car in the car park. The chilled out sounds helped him switch off from the endless reams of computer code that were scrolling through his head.

  Before long Connor felt that secret smile play upon his lips again as an image of Laura floated up before his eyes. She was never far from his mind, even just thinking about her made him want to dance - her enormous almond eyes lit up her golden heart-shaped face. Her image sparkled in his mind. He could gaze into those eyes for hours if she’d let him. Connor sighed deeply and the image faded away. He had to share his secret with Laura and he had no idea how she would react. But after last night he had no choice but to tell her.

  After checking he was definitely alone Connor closed his eyes he saw his psychic doorway floating in the blackness of his mind. It hung there silent yet ominous, haloed by the eerie pale light from the other world behind it. Before he pushed it open Connor recalled the terrifying scramble to get away from the other world, the last time he had been there. His mind was immediately catapulted back to that moment when he had been with Captain Neil Blake.

  Since being killed in action in Iraq by an improvised explosive device, Captain Blake had wandered the afterlife, forced to evade or fight demons that preyed upon the souls of the dead. Captain Blake had a gruff attitude towards life, and death which he displayed in a stone cold expression that never changed, even in those final nightmare images that still haunted Connor’s dreams. Despite his efforts Connor couldn’t stop the images returning again now in crystal clarity:

  “Can you feel that?” Connor had asked as shiver ran up his spine.

  Captain Blake was immediately alert, the sign of an experienced soldier. His penetrating eyes scanned the horizon in all directions. “Feel what?” he asked warily.

  “I don’t know” Connor struggled to put it into words. “It feels… close, like a thunderstorm is about to break”.

  “Come on” urged the other, leading Connor forwards with an urgency that increased his unease.

  “Is there something coming?” Connor asked.

  “You know there is” said the other impatiently. “You have been here for too long already and we’ve been very lucky that the enemy have not been drawn to us. But I think our time is up. Whatever happens next, wherever it comes from just remember your training. Remember your training and you will be fine. Do you understand me?” Connor nodded, unable to speak, as a twilight haze began to descend about them heralding the arrival of the monster. As the light faded Connor regarded the soldier: His chiselled features were etched with deep lines that spoke of a life hard lived. Yet heavy with more experiences than the average person could fit into ten lifetimes. He was clean shaven and had very close cropped salt and pepper hair beneath the red traditional red beret of the Royal Military Police. He was tall and broad and had become a little over-weight as middle age had crept up on him but that hadn’t seemed to slow him down.

  The grey evening dusk deepened. In the distance a rumbling sounded and at first Connor thought it was thunder but quickly realised it was laughter; deep guttural laughter that dripped with malice.

  The night quickly swept in around them like a sudden fog. Blake took out another black demon-scale blade and held it ready turning in a tight circle, looking to see where the threat would come from. The darkness condensed around them becoming deeper and darker by the second. Connor tried to remember what he had learned but his mind was suddenly blank. He sensed rather than saw shadows moving in the blackness. It had taken only seconds but now his eyes could not penetrate more than a few feet into the gloom.

  “Oh shit” Captain Blake whispered and Connor could feel the increased tension in his hushed voice as the sound of mocking laughter seemed to echo from all around them. Connor felt his fear growing but he held it in a tight grip as Captain Blake had instructed.

  Peering into the sudden night he saw forms detached themselves from the blackness, pacing, prowling or slinking between the shadows as they closed in on their prey. There wasn’t just one demon out there; there was a horde of demons surrounding them. They could not hope to fight them.

  His joints threatened to seize up in psychological paralysis as the horror of the situation took hold and corroded what little courage he had left. But he knew if he froze they would be lost.

  “Can we use that trick with their abilities?” Connor asked.

  “No. It won’t work with if there’s more than one nearby” barked the Captain through gritted teeth.

  Connor opened his doorway again but could not see it against the blackness of the demonic night that had enveloped them. The carnival of nightmares pressed in around him like a pack of hungry wolves. Connor forced his legs to step to where he thought the threshold of his doorway was, grabbing the Captain’s arm as the first demon sprang at him. But then it all went dark.

  They were both immediately enveloped in a cloak of impenetrable darkness. Connor was fortunate in knowing that this wasn’t the blackness of the demon’s veil they had just escaped from - this was the deep dark pool of his unconscious. They had exited from the Afterlife into Connor’s vast mind.

  “What’s happened?” Captain Blake demanded tensely.

  “We’ve passed through my doorway” Connor offered his reassurance. “You’re inside my mind. I didn’t know this would be possible – to bring you here with me – but it seemed the only thing we could do”. Connor watched the Captain unconsciously look around; checking his position for any threat or vulnerability that could be exploited by a resilient enemy.

  “It’s so… dark” his clipped military tones softening in awe at the impossibility of where he was.

  Connor let the other take a moment to acclimatise himself to his situation before saying, “I can take you back when you’re ready, drop you somewhere safer, with your community”.

  “No” the Captain said in an uncharacteristically low voice. “You said you can open your door to see anywhere?” he verified.

  “That’s right” Connor nodded.

  “Then take me to the real world again. What I want is to go to the Stoop”. When Connor looked confused he explained “It’s at Twickenham: Home of the Harlequins rugby club”.

  “Would that work? I mean, would you be able to go there?” Connor wondered out loud. “Can you still exist in the real world?”

  “Some people believe in ghosts” said the Captain flatly. “So ghosts must get there somehow. If I can’t exist in the real world anymore then I’ll just vanish the moment I step beyond your door. At least then it would be over and I wouldn’t have to go back to that god-awful place we just came from. I can’t return there, waiting to be picked off by a demon. There is no hope there; none whatsoever. So, I’m asking you to take me back to London”.

  “OK” Connor agreed. ??
?If that’s what you want me to do. Do your family live in Twickenham, or nearby?”

  “No”.

  “Oh. Well you’ve got plenty of time to see them”.

  “Perhaps” the officer said quietly as his eyes took on a faraway expression. Connor waited to allow the other to time to expand on his thoughts but when his silence began to stretch into awkwardness, Connor pictured the rugby ground and opened his door out onto the pitch.

  It was a wet dreary day. Grey clouds scudded overheard and a thin rain was falling. The kind that gets you soaked after just a few seconds. The East and West stands flanked the pitch on either side of Connor and Captain Blake with their classic red blue and green coloured sections, matching the colours of the team. They were all empty now. The pitch, which looked smaller in real life than on television, was sodden and covered in more mud than grass. The churned up pieces of turf told of a recent match, hard fought by both teams.

  Connor held his breath as Captain Blake stepped boldly out through the doorway without hesitation. He stopped a few paces away, looking around at his spiritual home in amazement. Outside his appearance seemed to shimmer slightly, almost glow in the dreary rain. He was almost grinning when he turned back to Connor.

  “Every match live from now on, can’t say better than that” The Captain said in a rare display of relaxed