BLINK 2: Circle of Ten

Chapter 2

       

Yorkshire, May 2017

John sat in the dark on a steel beam, its coldness numbed his butt cheeks. Part of the derelict building's roof had fallen away, and slivers of moonlight sliced through the shadows. As he looked down at his boots, he swung his legs to and fro. It reminded him of being young and of the old memories he knew were real. The new ones he had were nice, yes, but they happened in this alternative world he had created by saving Abigail. After a year, the new memories still felt as if they were from a film. They weren't his memories. He wondered, not for the first time, if it would have been better for God to have taken the Blink from him. He laughed to himself and shook his head slightly. 'Bloody hindsight.'

'The alternate lives of John Finnie!' he shouted. The word "Finnie" echoed through the empty space. A few pigeons disturbed by the shout burst into flight, sending old feathers floating to the floor, cooing in disgust at having to move.

Since the day he had "saved them all" his life had changed. He had Charlie back, and he was thankful everyday for that fact. He had also met some of the girls that hadn't died because he had killed Blake and changed time. He didn't tell them what had happened, he just made up excuses to meet and talk to them.

Most lead normal lives. A few had died of natural causes, which saddened him. After a long talk with Death, he realised that not everyone had made it. It was the natural order, but he still felt sad for it. Some were moms with children, some grandmothers, and some never married. It shocked him when one day he realised he was kind of a father figure to them all, even though many were much older than him. He was their protector, or had been anyway.

His biggest shock was to discover that Abigail had been the old woman in his first vision, the one without eyes who had grabbed him and implored him to "save one, save them all."

The problem with the Blink was that nobody ever knew what he and Sem had achieved. When time changed, so did everyone's perspective on the world. Not one person knew they had been saved. Not Charlie, and not Abigail.

John sighed. 'A thanks every now and then would be nice,' he mumbled to himself as he watched his feet move to and fro. But no. Only Sem knew, and every time he brought it up she punched him on the shoulder and told him to "man the fuck up!" John gave his shoulder an absent-minded rub. Sem didn't realise how hard she punched.

He smiled as he thought of two of the girls who had become famous, one was a writer whose books had been made into blockbuster movies. John smiled, he had of course read them all and watched the films. He was kind of a fan.

The other had become a leading scientist, advancing studies in the battle against cancer. John always felt a burst of pride when she was mentioned. She had saved thousands of lives. John sometimes wondered if that had been God's plan all along.

And then there was Charlie. John smiled again as he thought of her, she was just Charlie. Aggravating, annoying, pain in the arse Charlie. Non-stop chatterer--even Sem had to walk out of the room sometimes for respite from the constant questions--but he wouldn't have changed her for the world.

The smile left his face as he peered at the floor. A large blackened patch of concrete would be visible from where he sat if it'd been daytime. The place where Blake had finally died. The old abandoned steel works was his thinking place. Blake's death had caused so many lives. If killing one man could bring so much good, he thought maybe there was a reason God had left the Blink with him. He hated that there was so much evil in the world, but with Sem's help he would rid the world of the most evil among them one by one.

John sat in silence, legs swinging, thoughts whirring. A noise below startled him from his reverie. Someone moving the corrugated iron covering the side door, the only entrance. He tensed. The problem with trying to rid the world of evil was that evil had bosses, just like good. John had found out the hard way. If it hadn't have been for Marty's keen cop senses, a few people would have used his back for a pin cushion. John had chosen the good side and evil was pissed, real pissed.