He thought about his bizarre circumstance as he readied himself for a day at work, although he really wasn't sure which workday he was getting ready for. Showering and dressing didn't give his perplexed mind time to draw a definite conclusion. He didn’t have enough information to make sense of this yet.

  He went downstairs and sat down in the kitchen for breakfast. The usual malted wheat cereal and orange juice couldn’t help him determine the day. He had the same cereal almost every weekday. He decided to risk foolishness and take the opportunity to ask a question which would prompt more in return.

  “Hey, what's the date today?” He asked.

  Amy responded with surprise, and with some sarcasm, “You mean you didn't change your little calendar last night? Are you all confused now honey?” The last question was spoken in the same condescending tone one might use when speaking to a pet or a baby. He didn’t take offence, but scowled for effect.

  He responded. “You're mocking me, aren't you?”

  Again he got a sarcastic response, “Duh! How'd you guess?”

  “Look woman, can you give me a straight answer?” Jake asked with some frustration, but kept a grin on his face so Amy didn't think he was being harsh.

  “It's the day after yesterday.” Amy's less than helpful answer provoked another scowl from Jake. “It's 29th January... And it's a Thursday. Are you okay?” This time she spoke with genuine concern.

  Jake had to think quickly to avoid giving a very ridiculous sounding answer that would cause his wife of nearly ten years to once again doubt his sanity. “I'm okay. I just had a really weird dream last night.” He even believed that last comment as he said it.

  Maybe it was all a strange dream. Could dreams cover a period of several days but actually last several seconds or minutes? Could they be that real? He felt pain in his yesterday when a bullet struck him. He recalled people asking someone to pinch them to make sure they weren't dreaming. Pain was generally considered a mark of reality.

  What a ridiculous conclusion he'd come to. Of course it happened! Nothing like that could be considered a dream. It was far too real. He remembered every detail. He didn't ever remember dreams with such clarity. Smells, tastes, aches, pains, names, and details were not things he'd recalled vividly about any previous somnambulistic experience. He could not think of any other sensible conclusion.

  Thoughts of science fiction stories involving time travel came to mind, but his version was a lot less glamorous. Whatever his idea of normal time travel was, this was not it. He chuckled to himself slightly when he realised he had considered there was such a thing as 'normal time travel'.

  Repeating one day was weird enough. Going backwards one day at a time was stranger than any movie or book on time travel that he'd ever heard about. The Hollywood version usually allowed its eccentric characters to pick their time or destination, or at least use some kind of snazzy time machine. He had no such machine, or desire to travel through time, and if this whole thing was under his control it would have already stopped.

  He couldn't figure out what was going on. He'd asked for a chance to save his family - not for an eternally unwinding life. He'd asked for a second chance, but the powers-that-be seemed to have given him more than that. Why was this happening? He only wanted to relive one day - not his entire life backwards.

  As useless as Jake was at coming to the right conclusion, he kept fathoming unusual theories throughout the morning while he was preparing for work. What if the events which led to his family's trauma started today? Maybe his task was to prevent the whole course of events. That must be it. He needed to stop the event that would spark a chain reaction culminating in an attack on his family.

  Jake's thoughts had lasted right through breakfast. He said goodbye to his family and started driving to work.

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  Jake's recollection of the day before his family died was considerably hazy, but he could guarantee that it would be different now. He had been driving for several minutes, and he was still driving, but he was no longer on his way to work. Something had already caught his eye as he drove out of the town. He'd seen the very silver Mercedes that was used by the thugs who tried to dismantle Jake's normal family life. He was now discreetly following it.

  He looked at the clock on the instrument panel of his car. 8:50 was a good time to call in sick for work. No one would be there to argue with him about his sickness. No one would be able to persuade him to come in, despite his illness, and to "see how it goes". He could simply leave a message explaining why he would not be in the office until the following day.

  He left a message indicating he had a family emergency that required his immediate attention and hung up the phone. It wasn't a lie as such. These events all related to his family, or at least he thought they did.

  He was now free to try and stop this car from being stolen from Avenham Square. The Mercedes seemed like it belonged to any normal businessman. Jake could see only one person sitting in the car, so the goons had not commandeered the vehicle yet.

  Jake had gleaned a great deal of information regarding spying techniques from movies and TV shows. He knew he needed to stay some distance behind the car he was following. Subtlety was the key when pursuing a vehicle. People had told him that he'd waste years of his life watching spy shows on TV, but today he would find a use for them and would show those people how wrong they were.

  The car pulled into a car park to the right hand side of the road. There was a guard's station and a barrier blocking entry for those who did not belong to the company. Jake drove past the entrance and stopped in a parking space further down the road on the left. From there he could see the entrance and exit to the car park. No one was getting in or out without him noticing. Now it was time for the dull part of his operation - Surveillance.

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  Constant monitoring of an uneventful car park entrance left Jake feeling more than a bit weary. The gradually revolving silver cube displaying the company logo between the entrance and exit had a hypnotising effect when watched for an extended period of time. The sign had a similar look to the one he’d seen on the News previously for “New Scotland Yard”, the headquarters of the Metropolitan Police in London. He pondered the name and wanted to know what happened to the old Scotland Yard. He didn’t care enough to remember the question and Google it when he returned home.

  He looked at the clock inside the car, then at the large digital clock and temperature display located under the slowly spinning logo. One minute and thirty seven seconds slower than his own. He knew he was getting bored when he realised he'd actually figured that out. The time was 9:16 according to his car’s clock. Just over half an hour had passed and there was still no activity involving the car park. It was likely there would be no activity for most of the day. The attendant still sat in his cubicle, the barrier had remained down and nothing but a gentle breeze had passed it for some time.

  Just as Jake was settling down for an incredibly dull day, he noticed another car approach the barrier. This one was an old beaten up small blue hatchback. He could see two people in the front of the car. This could be them. He perked up in his seat, tearing his attention away from the two clocks in his view, and focussed on the two people in the car.

  The security guard hunched next to the driver door to talk to the driver. A five second conversation and the handover of something resulted in the guard returning to his booth and lifting the barrier. If these were the men, they had to have contacts to be to get inside so easily. Either that or they were very persuasive.

  The blue car drove into the car park and Jake lost sight of it. His attention was to be shifted back to the silver car he'd followed earlier. Within two minutes the Mercedes was driving out of the exit, most likely with the very same driver and passenger that had just entered the car park in the small blue hatchback.

  It was time for following again. He pulled out of the space, making sure that he kept several vehicles between him and them.
r />   He couldn't say for sure, but from the distance he was maintaining from the car three cars ahead, it seemed there was a great deal of urgency about the way they were driving.

  Heads inside the car were moving from side to side when they slowed down or stopped. They seemed very anxious to get to their destination. It seemed like there were more than two heads moving inside the car. Maybe it was just the way they were moving around.

  Since the hired goons had yesterday been so overzealous in trying to enter his house, Jake was of the opinion that they would be blissfully unaware of the presence of a pursuing car. Even with that in mind, he knew he needed to be careful. If they turned down a small side street he would no longer be able to hide the fact that he was following them. Luckily for him, so far they'd stayed on major roads. This particular road headed straight out of the town to an industrial estate located not too far from the local motorway. They were running out of streets to turn down.

  Over the years, as Darlington’s main industry changed from railway carriage manufacturing to cigarette making, more and more industrial businesses were drawn to the town. When these businesses went, most recently British American Tobacco, these industrial areas became empty and desolate. Eventually these areas seemed to be bought up and turned into new housing developments. They were now in one of the industrial areas requiring attention and renovation, or simply a wrecking ball and a few sticks of dynamite. Only one car was now sandwiched between the two silver Mercedes. Jake was desperately hoping he could discover their destination before the traffic thinned further.

  Only another minute or two went by before Jake had his answer. The silver car turned off the road to the left hand side. They even used the indicator in case anyone in the area had no idea where they were going. There was no doubt in his mind that these men were not the smartest of criminals. Surely it didn't cost much to hire decent help these days. Still he decided, as with everything in life, you get what you pay for. He had no idea that such a statement would also be true in the world of crime.

  The concrete road the car was driving down went to only one building - an empty and dilapidated looking single storey factory with weathered red brick walls and a corrugated roof that looked like a concrete and asbestos mix. A square-based red brick chimney reaching a height of roughly fifty feet was attached to the short end facing the road. It had once been painted with the white letters of a company name but it was no longer possible to discern what this name had been.

  This appeared to be their hideout.

  Jake carried on driving past the side road and followed the curve of the road to the left, then to the right in a large S bend. From his new vantage point he could see in his rear-view mirror the side road leading to a larger concrete area that served as a car park. There were two cars and a dark red van parked in the centre of it. The Mercedes was joining them.

  He kept on driving. Jake knew his only chance to find out what was going on was to get inside that building. The building contained a few cracked and broken windows and absolutely nothing of architectural value. Even in a new condition this would not have been an attractive place to work. This would be even truer now as it seemed that this place had been left vacant for some time. The conditions would sustain short meetings, but they would surely not stay there for long. Anything longer than that would no doubt require heating of some sort, and he couldn't imagine they'd have bothered connecting services such as electricity and a gas supply. It was the end of a cold January, and not a good time to be in a draughty building.

  He looked at his silver wristwatch. The time was now 10:05. Depending on their tolerance for cold places, they could potentially be in there scheming and planning tomorrow's attack for several hours.

  There was nothing he could do for the moment. He noticed a lay-by where he pulled up and switched off the engine.

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  His wait this time was considerable. No one had left the old factory in over two hours, but a black car had arrived. The dark red van that was in the centre was now almost completely blocked in by the other cars. It seemed unlikely that it would need to go anywhere for the next few minutes.

  Maybe Jake should have picked up a book, or brought some of his favourite music CDs for entertainment. He knew he needed to be here to see what was happening, but he wished he didn't. There were a lot of things he would rather be doing, but none of these would help to save his family.

  There were few things in life more boring than sitting waiting for something to happen. He knew from his own experience. Last time was less than an hour. This time he'd been waiting for over two, and it looked like there was no sign of a reprieve soon.

  He was sick of waiting around to see if anything was going to happen. At the very least he needed to be able to recognise those vehicles if he saw them again. He certainly couldn't do that from nearly half a mile away. He looked out over the surrounding area and made a mental note of things that could hide his approach from whoever might be watching by the building.

  There was an overgrown field between the run-down factory and the segment of road where he was positioned. The grass was nearly waist high and various weeds scattered throughout the field were nearly twice that. To the right of the field was a small wooded area separated by a wiry metal fence. That would work very well to provide adequate cover and hide his approach.

  Jake stepped out of the car and was over the fence and in amongst the trees within a minute, this time without hurting himself. What he hadn't thought about though, was the over-grown weeds and thorns in the woods. Hundreds of prickling plants stood in the gaps between trees, growing wildly and completely out of control, just waiting for their chance to ensnare a passer-by. He just happened to be their next victim.

  Trying to take the path of least resistance, Jake made it most of the way without getting snagged on weeds, and more importantly, without being seen by anyone standing guard by the factory. He was keeping a close eye on it as he approached. He could see the entrance from the angle he was now at. It was a standard sized door, and it seemed complete overkill to have one person standing guard on either side, but that's what was there. Whoever was in charge of this whole operation was very secretive and protective of his vicious plans.

  Getting into the building did not seem to be an option with two armed guards next to the only apparent entrance. All he could see from his angle was the four vehicles parked outside. There was the silver Mercedes, a dark blue estate car, the dark red van, and the black car he'd just seen arrive.

  He could make out a logo on the side of the van. “B. BRADY & SONS BUTCHERS AND BAKERY” The lettering was circled around a picture of a smiling cartoon pig. It was a very clichéd and cutesy logo. Most people might find it cute and funny until they imagine what the company actually does to those cute little pigs.

  All of a sudden there was movement by the building. He heard steps. He heard voices and turned his head to see what was going on. He could see the two goons, the original Mercedes driver, two people who were smartly dressed and one more person.

  He couldn't believe who it was. What was he doing here? How deeply was he involved in the whole incident? Whatever the reasons for it, all of a sudden it made one more thing on that fateful day clear.

  From that moment, he decided there was no one he could trust. Anyone could be working against him. He watched them all get into three of the four cars and drive away. Just a few seconds later there was no one left. Most of the cars, all of the people and the guards were gone, and the place appeared to have been left unsecured and open to anyone. Now it was time for Jake to figure out what was going on.

 

  CHAPTER 5

  Thursday 29th January, 1:00pm

  Jake could not believe that these schemers had managed to get to Frank. He had seemed so innocent and helpful that no one would ever suspect him of working with murderers. He had worked with him for as long as he had worked in Customer Services. He was a slightly plump, quiet accountant. He heard s
omeone once say that it was the quiet people you needed to be suspicious of. He was starting to understand why.

  In fact, if someone had asked him more than two days ago whom he considered to be a likely terrorist, Frank would probably be the last name from his lips. He was just an accountant at Nannotek. He was now convinced that his conversation with Frank after work, delaying his return home, was no coincidence. It had been planned.

  The more he thought it through, the more absurd it was. Frank was not good enough at lying or pretending to do anything, so how could he fool Jake? Someone had engineered the whole of that conversation purely to delay him. Frank had been told to keep an eye on him and prevent him leaving at the time he said he would. At some point he would need to speak to Frank and see if he knew anything more about the perpetrators of his family's attack than he did.

  Bringing his mind back to the present, Jake realised that it had been a few seconds since the small group of people had left the factory, and with no guards and no lock on the door, it would not be hard to get inside. Whatever their reason for protecting the building with guards, it was not because of anything inside it, but probably due to the information passing between those in attendance.

  As Jake entered the building through the weathered wooden door, he wondered whether this crumbling old factory was only their meeting place, or a makeshift one used for just one or two meetings. The answer to that question seemed obvious by the contents of the building. Seven rusting light brown fold-away metal chairs were set out in a semi-circle to face two large, heavily scratched blackboards leaning against a wall. The board on the left had various numbers, dates, times and other symbols arranged in some kind of a list. The board on the right seemed to have been used for the planning of specifics.

  He recognised the layout on the board to the right. The lines formed a crude diagram of the street where he lived. There was a dot over where his house would be. They had planned the murder of his wife and children to the finest detail. Times had been scribbled at the bottom of the board with brief notes next to them. These included the time he usually left home and the time he returned home.

 
Will Thurston's Novels