CHAPTER FIVE - WIND AND RAIN
His teeth were chattering as he felt the rain soaking through his trousers to the icy skin beyond. Even with Nick’s jacket on he was cold and shivering. It was simply no use when his clothes below it were already drenched. He swore he could feel ice beginning to form on his face as the cold water slid down his cheeks.
The rain was beginning to fall heavier now and it easily pierced through the pathetic layer of foliage above him that the bush offered. All around him he could hear the crackle of dead leaves as they were hammered by the falling water droplets. He whimpered slightly as it fell harder upon him. He felt sick…. Very, very sick and he was certain that he was going to vomit… or he would be if he had eaten for the past two days. He was dizzy as well and his eyelids felt heavy. It was almost peaceful to imagine slipping away into the darkness where nobody could hurt him and where they would be no cold wind blowing at him.
He jerked his eyes open as he felt his mind beginning too haze over, but they shut themselves automatically in weariness. He wiped his wet hands over his eyes, desperate to keep them open and to keep himself awake. He was afraid of falling asleep out here… afraid in case he didn’t wake up again.
He rubbed his hands together, trying to stimulate them into producing a little warmth for his frozen body, but it had no effect. He could hardly feel his fingers anymore and they were pale and white like those of a dead body.
That’s what he felt like… one of the walking dead. Only a member of the dead wouldn’t feel like he did. They wouldn’t feel sick and they wouldn’t feel the painful guilt gnawing way at their heart and slowly killing him inside. It was all too much… and then there had been the attack…
He peered out of the bush he was using as weak shelter and whimpered and covered his head as he saw the flashlight in the road. He covered his ears and curled himself up into a foetal position. It could be anybody… It could be someone looking for him. It could be someone wanting to hurt him again…
They had followed him. He knew they had. It wouldn’t take long for them to realise which time period he had come to and they certainly wouldn’t want to stick around the base. Well, that treacherous bastard probably would… but not the other one. The other one had been determined to get him and he had been frightened the second he looked into those eyes.
Fighting hadn’t helped him at all, the man had been so much more powerful than he was, even with the anger flowing through him. This man had murdered his friends, but he had been no match for him and the only option had been to flee.
He could hear a faint voice calling in the wind, but he couldn’t make any words out before the wind took them away in a gust of icy delight. He snuffled and wiped his nose on the sleeve of his cloak that protruded from the jacket, his tissue having long been destroyed in the heavy downfall.
He raised his head, but rapidly ducked again as the flashlight swung his way. He tried hard not to breathe in case the rasping noise could e heard by the hunter and he wrapped his arms about his chest to muffle his beating heart. The light was swung away again, leaving him shivering in relief. He nervously peeped out of the bush and watched as the hunter ran through the rain and further up the street.
He slowly crawled out of the bush and stared about the darkened road. Even the streetlights seemed to have been defeated in the appalling weather and there was no light at all spilling out into the street to offer relief. He stared in the direction the hunter had run, but he couldn’t see them or their light anymore.
He slowly picked himself up from the muddy garden and crept over the small fence and out into the street. His limbs were aching, desperate for the blissful rest of slumber, but he couldn’t give in to that tantalising temptation. He shivered and began to limp down the road, his legs awkward and frozen with the cold that seemed to have seeped into his young bones.
He couldn’t wait any longer… He had to get inside out of the cold. He was terrified of dying out here.
* * * * * * *
“B! Where are you?” Brian screamed as he dashed across the dark road. “B!”
He was crazy… He had to be to be out in this weather chasing after a shadowed fantasy that could never be true. B wasn’t even born yet! It was almost as if he were pursuing a ghost.
But everything fit. Nick’s description had only brought one face to his mind and it answered the questions Nick had posed. He said his father lived on this street, but he had been afraid to go there whilst Nick was around. He had known Nick, but not as a Backstreet Boy…
Brian stopped for a moment and swung his flashlight about the huge, deserted gardens of his neighbours, in case anyone was hiding there safely out of sight.
He turned back to his won house, wondering if he should wait there, but he couldn’t bear it. How could he sit and wait in the warmth when something he loved could be wandering the streets lost and hurt? For all Brian knew, he could be lying somewhere dying and just waiting to be found. Maybe he couldn’t get to Brian’s house…
From what Nick said, he didn’t sound good and something had been definitely wrong with him. Plus there had been blood on his clothes… He had to be hurt!
Desperately he stared about the avenue, looking for the sign of any person out in the harsh weather, but it was hard to see in the thick wall of rain that prevented him from seeing more than a metre or so in front of him, even the flashlight didn’t make it much easier.
He wiped his fringe back from his face to stop it from dripping rainwater into his eyes and then shone the light into another garden, but still there was nothing.
‘Think Brian, think!’
He had been cold and scared according to Nick, so he would probably wan to hide himself. But why hadn’t he come down to Brian’s house?
‘Probably because it wasn’t him…’
But he refused to believe that. B wasn’t stupid enough to come and visit while Nick was with him. How would Nick react to meeting someone from the future?
So the kid must have gone somewhere!
Still, Brian’s mind was beginning to be shadowed by the thoughts of how foolish he was being. He had catch his death out here in the rain and he was chasing someone who didn’t exist yet. It could so easily have been another kid…one who looked like B and who’s father did really live on the street. It could have been a fan just dying to take a ride in the car of a Backstreet Boy! It could have been anyone!
He was shivering and snuffling as the cold began to get to him, despite the heat his muscles produced from running and screaming. What was he doing out here? He had just been dwelling on the future too much recently and it had led to him seeing things that weren’t there.
He gasped as he suddenly saw a black bundle lying by the edge of the road and he found his mouth turning dry as the lump of a sob threatened to over spill. He dashed towards it and then leant down, almost in tears until he realised that it was nothing but a black trash bag, probably blown onto the road by the wind.
The wind was becoming stronger now and it tore eagerly at Brian’s clothes and rushed through his body to fill him with a freezing coldness. He dragged himself onwards until he reached the end of the avenue, shining his flashlight about him but seeing nothing.
Where could he have gone? The estate around here was huge and easy to get lost in… It would take days to search them all. He shivered and shook in the cold and the sweat gathered on his face, stickier than the rainwater, as he felt his heart hammering harder from the emotions that ran through him.
“B! Are you out here?” he called, the wind again seeking to muffle his words and steal them away. “B, it’s me!”
There was no reply and Brian doubted if he had even heard anything because of the rushing wind. He stepped out of the avenue and into the next road, staring wildly about him but the power to the street lights must have been cut because every single one of them was black and dead with gloom. He couldn’t see anything.
“B,” he whispered, hardly hearing the words himself.
He wiped his hand across his face as he saw the beam from the flashlight rapidly fading as the battery struggled to put out anymore power. Furiously he shook it and smacked it with a wet, slippery hand but it ceased to produce the desired effect. The beam flickered slightly and then went out, plunging Brian into the darkness of the night.
“No!” he sobbed, tears beginning to flow in desperation. He had to find that kid! He had to know who it was and that was he only way he would reassure his mind.
He gave one last, dismal look about the road but seeing nothing he turned slowly back to his won avenue and began to trudge back up the wet sidewalk, the rain trickling from his hair to the ground and into his eyes to mingle with the tears.
He would never know. He would never know if it had been him or not and he would never know if he was safe…
He glanced to his right for a moment as he saw a house with an outdoor light shining in the darkness and the faint beams illuminated the red sports car in the driveway, grinning at the rain.
A car… maybe he could drive around the roads and see if he could find him.
Filled with hope at the new idea, his feet began to hammer harder against the albs as he fought the wind to run home. It was blowing a wall of rain at him, as if desperate to prevent him from reaching his destination. He bowed his head to keep the rain from his eyes and hunched his shoulders as he struggled in the weather. Finally he was at the driveway to his own home and he began to hurry up the tarmac towards the front door.
His own outdoor light was welcomingly lit with as a faint beaker of light and hope in the gloom of the night. It was as Brian came closer that he saw something on his doorstep. He froze for a moment as his eyes registered what he was seeing and then he began to run.
Run… run… run… Why does running sometimes not increase your pace?
“B!” he screamed as he almost slipped on the wet driveway in his haste to reach the door. “B!”
He skidded to a halt in front of the doorstep and the black lump that covered it. Gently he placed his hands upon him and turned the head to face him. The hair was covered with a tattered hood, but he could see the light fringe that had plastered to his forehead in the rain and the sickening white face was visible in the light.
It was him though, his instinct had been right. It wasn’t just an ordinary boy Nick had come across, it was his own, dear son.
“B! B!” He yelled hoarsely as his hands shook him frantically, praying for him to be alive.
B whimpered slightly and then with a visible great effort, his eyes flickered open. He blinked a few times in the rain that still fell onto his face and then finally he seemed to recognise him. “Dad…”
“Ssshhh,” Brian soothed as he brushed his hand tenderly against the boy’s face. “Thank God you’re okay.” He slowly scooped him into his arms and held him like a precious belonging on his lap. He wiped the water from his face and held him close.
“Uh…mmm…” B whimpered slightly as his eyes closed.
He was here, breathing in his arms and Brian had to fight not to cry. He’d thought he would never see him again after their heartbreaking goodbye and yet he was here with him now…
“Let’s get you inside,” Brian whispered tears falling down his face.
Gently he lifted B into his trembling arms and he felt him turn into a limp, dead weight in exhaustion, his head nuzzling against Brian’s chest. Brian felt every muscle in his body tense as he suddenly noticed the blood that covered the bottom of B’s cloak. He slowly pulled the bloody rag of cloth into his hands, his eyes wide in horror.
“Don’t worry, it’s not all mine,” B said sleepily as he seemed to feel Brian’s shock.
“Oh… okay.” Brian wasn’t sure how to respond to that statement, but he couldn’t help feeling a sense of deep relief rising from his heart. Carefully Brian fumbled with the door until it opened and allowed them both back into the warmth.
In his arms, B smiled as he realised that his ordeal was over.