Being a multi-genre author I wanted to have a go at time travelling since they make such good films and TV programmes. The first time travel programme I remember was called The Time Tunnel and even now I can see the twisting tunnel that took them to the other side. There have been many great stories woven around this subject and I took my main character back to World War 2.
An excerpt of the first chapter.
A noise woke me from a deep sleep. It took me a moment to come around. When I did, the first thing I noticed was my bedroom, though I didn’t recognise it. It was plain with no personal touches.
For a moment, I racked my brain. Was I on holiday?
Unexpectedly, there was a loud rumbling followed by an explosion.
Suddenly, I was wide awake. I leapt from the bed to the window, stunned by what I saw. My heartbeat quickened as soldiers poured into the village, firing guns at everyone in sight.
People were running and screaming. Smoke spread upward from a burning building, and my apartment shook with another explosion.
Terrified, my mind screamed at me to get out of there. Jumping to my feet, I realised, though I’d been in bed, I was dressed in an attire of dark trousers and a light-coloured top. My feet were clad in flat, conventional shoes.
This is crazy, I thought. Why am I fully clothed, and where am I, for that matter? Was this a dream?
Running out of the bedroom, I barely noticed the sparsely furnished lounge. I headed for the hallway, throwing open the front door and legging it to the stairs. The noise and smell fed my fear, pushing me forward. It didn’t help when I stepped outside, looked around, and nothing was familiar.
What’s going on? I wondered.
The surrounding structures appeared old. They were built in a valley beneath a towering mountain range. The sky was clear blue, not a cloud in sight, and I could feel the morning heat rising.
Scattered cows and goats wandered anxiously, bewildered by the noise. Their protests were vocalised in distressed lows and angry bleats, which only added to the chaos.
Slipping across to another building, I kept close to the walls, my survival instinct on high alert. As I turned the corner, a woman huddled on the ground, clutching a dead child, came into view. Had that not been enough to freeze my movement, the bereft sound coming from her would have.
The awful cries of the mother wailing tugged at my heart. Then, she looked at me beseechingly, but what could I do? Nothing, so I kept on running, hiding, and dodging. I did not want to die.
Every nerve in my body was on fire. My heart was beating so fast I could hardly breathe. I was about to run into the open but saw a soldier aim a gun at a man on his knees. I stopped dead in my tracks.
The man collapsed in front of a group I assumed to be his family. Their screams filled the air, momentarily blocking every other sounds. The cries were painful and gut-wrenching.
Horrified, I turned to vomit behind a wall. Dropping on to all fours, I retched and then crawled into a space between outbuildings. I watched the scene unfold with tears streaming down my face.
This is a novelette, the length of books I enjoying reading and writing the most. Available to read on any device at just 99c/99p from Amazon, iBooks, Kobo, and many more.