Book Excerpt: The Time Warriors: The Return

all rights copyright Owen Quinn

The below is an excerpt from the story the Return which forms part of the new Time Warriors book Only The Dead Get Off At Kymlinge and Other Stories available now on Amazon with 3 variant covers to choose from.

lavours; the world’s gone nuts for it.”

 With a nod, Rachel had accepted the bottle and money off coupons, put them in her trolley and went on about her shopping, wondering as she went around the shelves if she should put a patent in on some of the products that had yet to be invented and take their place in household cupboards. But she smiled at the thought of Varran’s face if she did. He’d probably think the universe would implode.

Varran was never far away, eager for their help and company. Sometimes this human form was so restrictive, incompatible with her dreams of being part of the dimensional fields again. It was trying for her and she knew she had been a bit sharp with Michael recently as if she blamed him for her life now leaving her slightly guilty. It was a feeling that was an ache in her that she couldn’t share with Michael. He’d take it the wrong way and over compensate making things more uncomfortable between them. Their sex life had dwindled somewhat and she could see the confusion in his face when she told him she was tired or had a headache. She knew he wanted more kids and something told her he was on the cusp of asking her to marry him. The thought of it scared Rachel when she compared it to life as a Ganti among those limitless vistas free as an eagle. How could she take Sarah away from that and where would she go? Maybe if she rode it out these thoughts would pass in time. Would the normality of the twenty first century reduce her in some way?

 Until Rachel could sort it out in her own head then she couldn’t expect Michael to understand so right now it was all about Sarah. All she wanted was a tea party on the patio. She never mentioned any memories of being part of the Ganti and maybe that was due to the racial memory gene passed down from Michael.

 And Sarah often stayed with Jacke or Tyran at their homes, giving Rachel and Michael some private time awkward as it was at times. Inwardly she thanked her blessings for such an extended family. She knew now why Michael was so close to them.

Even he had changed since they started living together. He had consciously or subconsciously adopted this “Father” mode where he tried to seem the sensible dad and show a good example but fell badly with his language.

Whatever, thought Rachel. He was just as silly and gormless as she remembered and he could put on all the severity of dad knows best but Sarah had him wrapped round her little finger. He was a good man and partner but it would all be easier with a manual on how to deal with the obstacles we put in front of ourselves.

 Come to think of it Michael was quite dominated by all the women in his life which wasn’t a bad thing, Rachel decided.

“Nearly home Sarah!” she called to the back seat where Sarah shifted excitedly and clapped. Rachel swung up the bottom of the Station Road leading to the cul-de-sac where they lived. Feeling slightly guilty at her secret, Rachel decided to suggest she and Michael go to the movies tonight, maybe have a meal.

 “Speak of the Devil,” she muttered as she saw Michael strolling down the road, jacket buttoned and hands buried in his pockets against the cold September day. Rachel saw he was wearing new trainers which she hadn’t bought him. He must have ordered them himself online and forgot to say she thought. Smiling, he waved as they pulled up beside him. Leaning down to the passenger side as Rachel lowered the window, he grinned at his daughter and winked at Rachel.

“Alright family?” he asked chirpily.

“Where are you going?” Rachel asked him.

“Just down to do the Lotto. Although why Varran won’t let me slip forward to tomorrow and get the numbers I’ll never know.”

“Probably something to do with changing the timelines, imploding timelines, cheating fate, that sort of thing,” Rachel droned. “It’s the same reason you can’t go back and buy all that Action Man stuff and sell it for a profit boxed.”

“He’s such a mood hoover,” Michael griped. “Well, the next time we’re in the future, I’m going to have a quick peek. And next time we are in the 70s and 80s, I’m so grabbing some Action man stuff; I don’t think a few action figures and vehicles will destroy the world,” he decided. “Sarah, want to come to the shop with me?”

Sarah gave him a stare from the back seat, settling her expression that conveyed all seven year olds knew best.

“Daddy, we’re making cupcakes with Nana!” she stated as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Michael frowned. “Oh sweetie, Nana had to go out with her friend Harold. She won’t be back for a while.” Harold wasn’t exactly Maisy’s boyfriend but close enough whom she’d been seeing for over a year now.

“She never said anything about seeing Harold today,” Rachel remarked puzzled.

“It was out of the blue. Harold has a boat. It sank or something with the bad weather last night. I don’t know. I don’t ask,” Michael remarked.

Sarah looked crestfallen.

“Why don’t you come with me and you pick our numbers for tonight? The lady might give you one of those pens and when Nana comes back you can use it to write down her recipes.”

Rachel nodded.

“That’s a good idea. It’ll give me the chance to put these groceries away. Tell you what I’ll get the ingredients ready and we can start baking when you and Daddy get back.”

 This satisfied Sarah. Rachel leaned back and helped Sarah undo her seatbelt. Michael opened the car door and gave the little girl a hand to get out.

“Won’t be long,” he smiled, closing the door and thumping the roof twice to signal for her to go.

Rachel pulled into the driveway and got out, opening the car boot release. She tutted. I’d better open the front door first, she thought.

She fumbled with the set of keys, selecting the front door one. She went to put it in the lock when the door opened. Her face fell.

“What are you doing here?” Rachel stared at a surprised Michael dumbfounded.

“I kind of live here,” he answered unsure what Rachel was talking about. “Is this you behaving weird again?”

It was a pointed remark which wasn’t lost on Rachel who didn’t acknowledge it otherwise it would open a can of worms she wasn’t ready to deal with. A deep dread began to swell in Rachel making her skin crawl.

 “Everything alright Michael?” came a voice from the kitchen. Rachel’s heart almost stopped. It was Maisy.

“I thought Maisy had gone with Harold to the boat,” she breathed fearfully. “I thought you were going to do the Lotto.”

Michael tilted his head strangely at her.

 “No, what’s wrong Rachel? Is Sarah in the car?”

Sheer terror twisted her inside as Rachel turned and ran back down the street calling for her daughter. Her legs pumped like an Olympian athlete. Her heart pounded as terror gripped her every nerve. Michael took off behind her, leaving Maisy standing worriedly at the front door.

 Michael caught up with Rachel at the end of the road where she was looking frantically up and down. The traffic buzzed past uncaring. Catching up to her, Michael grabbed her by the arms whirling her round, demanding to know where Sarah was. Hysterical, Rachel stared at Michael in sheer fear pulling free from his grip.

Sarah and the other Michael were gone.