Page Title

Synopsis

Bluff news editor Gene Harman has vivid dreams and they are not just down to his frequent bouts of drinking. At first they

depict past events but recently the dreams take on a more frightening facet, depicting future destruction of Earth. When he

receives photographs of scenes from his dreams Gene starts to worry. Against a background of murders linked to the local

university, Detective Andy Dale teams up with Gene Harman and Professor Trudy Ballinger to solve the riddle of the dreams and identify the mysterious stranger trying desperately to communicate with them. Stalked by an assassin one of the trio

unbeknowingly holds a secret that someone will kill to keep, no matter what the cost. A psychopath out to exact revenge for

perceived past injustice adds further complications. Relationships honed by danger add a final ingredient to the mix.

SAMPLE

Chapter 15

Danny sat cross-legged in a lotus position, oblivious to the hardness of the bare wooden floorboards. The room was gloomy, the only light provided by five flickering candles, one in each corner of the small room. The fifth candle was standing on a blackened saucer in front of Daniel, lighting his face with a constantly changing mask of light and dark animation. He was having an excited conversation with his best friend David. The pitch of Daniel's voice rose shrilly as his words tumbled out at an-ever increasing rate explaining to David how much he hated his father. He'd left his mother and him to fend for themselves all those years ago; only to return now when it was too late.

"Harman is my father" , he explained to his attentive audience. "He left my mother and me now he's come back to destroy us" Daniel ranted on. "So we must kill him first."

David sat in silence looking implacably at his friend. Daniel got hastily to his feet, and walked rapidly around the small room. David still looked on expressionless, waiting until his friend had calmed down. At last Daniel relaxed, his pace slowed, the erratic twitch in the corner of his cheek became less frenetic, finally stopping altogether. He sat again in the lotus position, facing his friend, with a crazed look in his eyes that had not been there before. Daniel stared at an object high in the corner of the room, he continued to stare in silence. The only sound was the steady, tick, tock, of the old wooden station clock, one of the few

possessions he had inherited from his mother. David said nothing, waiting for Daniel to begin talking again. After a while Daniel lowered his gaze and became aware of his friend sitting silently in front of him. The mask that had been Danny's face relaxed, he looked at his friend and smirked, his eyes took on a bright luminescence in the fire glow. He now had the composure of a person confident in what he was going to do and how he was going to achieve it.

As David's voice gradually penetrated deep into Danny's subconscious he became aware of the tick, tock, as the pendulum of the old station clock swayed erratically back and forth.

"What does your Mother want us to do?" the voice seemed hollow and faraway.

The clock continued ticking. The pendulum persevered in its laboured swinging motion.

"What does your Mother want us to do?" the voice repeated, more insistent this time.

"Make Harman suffer and then kill him," Daniel shouted. "Kill my father," he shouted again. "Kill them, kill them."

Exhausted, he collapsed to the floor, fighting for each ragged breath, his body convulsing in impossible shapes.

Meanwhile the candles continued to create their grotesque patterns; the clock continued to tick, like someone's admonishing finger registering disapproval. The pendulum struggled, against all odds, to make one last journey there and back. Suddenly Danny's face relaxed, his body ended its convulsions, David's smile continued to waver in the gloom of dwindling candlelight.
Danny slowly raised himself to his feet, leaning heavily against the wall, his breathing laboured and ragged with the effort. The room suddenly became darker as the light from the saucer candle finally expired, its charred wick sinking into the depths of the grey molten wax. David still looked on silently waiting. Danny stretched, looked at his watch; it was three in the morning, time for a walk. He struggled into an old donkey jacket and put on his gloves revelling in the warmth encompassing his cold hands. Opening the door to the night air he paused and turned back gazing round the empty room. "Bye David, see you later," he said, as he walked out into the murky street.

Chapter 20

A menacing cloud hung over the bustling coastal town. Great cargo ships creaked as they bobbed up and down, oak timbers voicing their protest against such disrespectful treatment to a tumultuous sea, becoming more violent with the passing minutes. Sailors scurried about, raising collars and bowing heads to afford a small protection against the cutting wind. A series of

deafening booms resounds against delicate eardrums, their owners desperately trying to muffle out the sound with hands tightly pressed against chilled ears.
On a small hill overlooking the harbour a magnificent building dominates the leaden skyline. Palatial in its proportions this

imposing edifice is home to the rulers of this prosperous land. The beautiful and delicate frescoes of bulls and dolphins adorn the walls suggest a highly creative and successful civilisation. People here are hard-working but happy, each contributing to the

others success. This has been the case now for over three thousand years. An idyll that will end this night.
For several days material, not unlike polluted snow has rained gently from the sky covering this palatial structure with a fine grey powder, tarnishing its once magnificent decor. Snow is unheard-of in this land of sunshine and warmth, what is now raining from the skies, ever increasing in its intensity, is hot ash. A tall distinguished looking man looks out over to the harbour. His

worried look invokes concern in the eyes of his dark-haired attractive wife. The man is wearing the fine silk clothes that befit the governor of a wealthy successful seaport. He raises his eyes to look out at the smoking mountain in the far distance, just as

another deafening explosion shakes the palace to its foundations. Panic replaces concern on the striking face of the governor's wife. Rumblings from deep in the earth had been filling the island inhabitants with fear for many weeks. Glowing fire belched from the distant mountain, each thunderous explosion throwing tons of hot ash into the air, luckily much of it carried away by the prevailing winds. This time however the explosions were louder and of greater intensity. A beautifully painted urn falls with a crash from its once imposing position on the richly waxed oaken table. The governor's wife turns and moves quickly to the table but too late to prevent another clay urn from shattering on the floor, its shattered pieces mingling with those of its erstwhile

companion. Suddenly all is quiet again the only sound being the protest of ships rising and falling as the pounding sea batters

itself into a frenzy against the harbour wall.
Among the scurrying sailors another figure appears, unnoticed by the milling crowds at the dockside. The man, if it is a man, looks as if from another place or time. His clothes, made from materials not seen before on this island, look alien in this land of colourful fabric and fine cloths. His size elicits the occasional stare, for he is at least a head taller than most of the thronging masses. The figure turns to look at the distant mountain a look of terror crosses his face as another explosion throws plumes of burning ash high into the glowing night sky. The figure instinctively turns and starts to run up the ash covered hill towards the governor's palace just as another rumble deep in the ground coincides with the loudest explosion yet from the fire mountain. In his haste to reach the sanctuary of the palace he misses his footing on the powdery ash and slides back grazing his legs on rocky surfaces not yet covered by the white powdered ash. As he scrambles to his feet, another sound registers itself in his subconscious. He turns to look back behind him and barely has time to scream before a giant wall of water silhouetted against the ,exploding mountain races dramatically across the open sea and crashes over the harbour wall. Everything now happens in slow motion as the giant wave engulfs him, the silence is overwhelming as he sinks under the weight of the murky black water. As he goes down ever deeper into the blackness of the ocean an insistent ringing now penetrates the fearful silence.
Panic-stricken Gene Harman looked wildly from side to side around the darkened room. The insistent ringing suddenly stopped leaving him stunned in the silence surrounding him. Gradually the realisation that it had all been a nightmare dawned on Gene as his eyes adjusted to the light. The now familiar shapes of his bedroom furniture showed dimly in the periphery of his vision. Gene was still shaking when the shrill ring of his phone once again penetrated his subconscious...