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  Simulation Game

  Book One in the Evolution Series

  Copyright Simulation Game by E.M.G Wixley April 2019

  The moral right of the author has been asserted.

  All rights reserved; no part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted by any means, electronic, photocopying or otherwise, without prior permission of the author.

  Cover Design: E.M.G Wixley

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictiously. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Where real locations have been used, the settings and characters within them are entirely fictional.

  This book is dedicated to my kind and generous father, John Wixley who loved all things quantum. Love you dad.

  Lost

  Chapter One

  The problem was she Felicity Devon remembered; she now knew. Since childhood, she’d had a desperate need to recall and reflect upon the charade of her happy family life. At first, her memories were insubstantial, a gossamer mist coiling around the trees, nothing she could grasp or prove.

  It was satisfying knowing nobody could see her twisting her way down the narrow track as she headed deeper into the dark forest. Perhaps her existence was already nullified. She glanced down at her thighs as she kicked the leaves and twigs out of the way. They were firm and healthy strong beneath her jeans, and the pink of her water-proof coat was real, insulating her body from the perishing cold.

  Looking up she saw the faint light of the afternoon sky. A breeze brushed her forehead. Nothing lived other than the skeletal trees which reflected her desolation. No birds sang, and no animals rustled the dead leaves. She was being pulled by an undercurrent of despair further away from civilisation, trying to get lost, except for the red ribbon she was feeding through her hands. It was there not to aid her escape, but so she could be found. It would be too cruel to leave her brother Irvin with all his struggles wondering where she was hiding. She didn’t want his life to end with her exit.

  It was almost dark when she came out into a clearing. The grip of the giant hand moved the shape of her life one square forwards. Felicity’s thinking was scattered as she automatically set up the pop-up tent and lit a fire. She thought of her parents always in charge, using controlling behaviours to shape all their lives. The sharp teeth of their love snapping at the outside world not allowing for anyone but a select few to come close. The falsehood and lies. She sat cross-legged on the mud by the fire and felt dirty with the knowledge of what they had done to their family. Now today she’d set out to die.

  Staring at the dancing flames, Felicity thought she heard a noise coming from behind. She froze and then it happened again, a cracked twig. Someone or something was moving stealthily trying not to be seen. With a thumping heart, she took a backward glance and saw a man stumbling out of the trees.

  Felicity had not expected to see another human being. She’d chosen her spot carefully for its remoteness and rough terrain and the fact that many lives had been lost venturing into the wilderness of mountains and valleys. This was her spot of isolation, and now someone was peeping through the window, making contact. The tall, stocky figure hunched over and with his eyes cast down hurried past trying not to make eye contact. He would soon disappear back into the darkness, and she was relieved at not having to communicate.

  Just before he vanished, he couldn’t resist a glance over his shoulder. His appearance was scruffy. His green-hooded canvas coat appeared faded, and his long straw-coloured hair hung around his face in knotted clumps. To her surprise, he smiled and raised his hand. There was a turmoil in Felicity’s heart and a throbbing hope.

  “You’ll get lost out here!” she called before she could even think.

  “I come from Norway and live in the shade – I can handle the dark,” he shouted with his back already turned against her, and he disappeared. Picking up a stick and peeling off the bark she listened to his crunching footsteps fade. The interruption into her loneliness had caught her by surprise but had not derailed her from her plan. Tomorrow morning as the sun rises she would surrender to death and swallow the pills she’d carefully collected.

  Felicity ran her fingers up and down the stick examining the grain of the wood. She threw it onto the fire and peering through the blue smoke she saw a motionless figure standing opposite and directly staring in her direction. He started towards her, and as he drew near in the light of the fire, she saw a young man his cheeks stained with tears and dirt. He’s so young, she thought. What is he doing here? There was a lingering reek, an uncared for, stale smell. A mingling of pity and sadness filled her chest. He wasn’t a threat, and even if he was, she didn’t care.

  “Why don’t you join me by the fire,” she said emboldened by his more desperate need. “I have no food, but I do have water and coffee.” She watched as he trod closer and eased his tall frame down at her side. He held out his hand, and she took it in hers and shook.

  “I’m Jonah,” he muttered sniffing.

  “Felicity.” She’d thought about lying as saying her name made her feel like she was cheating death but decided there was no point.

  “I would love some water.” He smiled. “I ran out a while ago.”

  Felicity handed him her bottle, and he gulped as much as would have been polite making sure he left some for his host. They both sat dazed and quiet staring into the fire, surrounded by a thick dewy jet blanket as the minutes clicked away. Neither wanting to explain why they were hiding in the wilderness.

  “Are you lost,” Felicity finally asked.

  “No more than you,” he replied dully.

  Has he guessed why I’m here? Felicity considered, panicking at the thought that someone else knew her secret.

  “You left a trail. I presume you hope to find your way home.”

  “Oh yes, of course, and why are you here?” she said boldly.

  “I set out to get lost – to keep moving until I dropped,” he said in a choked voice as tears dropped from his eyes.

  “You’re a long way from home,” Felicity said.

  “I’ve travelled over a land of snow and the sea. Most of my life I’ve lived in darkness in a deep valley surrounded by mountains.”

  For the first time, Felicity was scared. She wondered if she’d encouraged the company of a madman. She’d planned to die by her own hands and not by those of another. A flame ignited in her heart as a pivotal and life-affirming moment had occurred. However insoluble her problems she would not die tomorrow. Her isolation was broke by fear or hope.

  “Why? You’re so young and have so much to live for.”

  “I can’t take anymore,” he said the tears still cascading down his face. “What is going to happen is beyond sad, and I don’t know what to do. I know I can’t prevent it from happening.”

  “Tell me. I might be able to help.”

  “Secrets, secrets. The world is riddled with secrets and lies,” Jonah said firmly.

  This man doesn’t like lies, and I’ve lied to him, Felicity thought bleakly. “Okay, I’m here for the same reasons as you or at least I was.” She turned her astonished eyes to his and stared into the cloudy blue. She couldn’t believe she’d revealed her intent to another human being.

  A gust of air rushed through the trees blowing the dead leaves in all directions, sending the flames dying and then roaring.

  “You mean you came here to die?” he said equally amazed.

  “Well, yes. Secrets, family secrets.”

  “I was hoping I would fall asleep and wake somewhere else. Embark on a different journey,” Jonah said.

  “I don’t think this is a doorway from or to anything,” she said. “I just w
anted to escape a terrifying truth.”

  “I’m glad to meet you,” Jonah said grinning and wiping away his tears with his dirty hand.

  “Shall we agree not to die but to survive together,” Felicity said smiling back confident and renewed.

  “Who’d of thought making friends with a stranger could save a person's life.” He wrapped his bony arms around Felicity and held her tight. “A life-line in a rough sea. Thank you, but I’m afraid the danger is only just beginning,” he said.

  Felicity put out her hand and touched his shoulder, “This place is unaltered by time, it’s a sanctuary, an oasis. Here the air is clean, and we can breathe. Please, tell me your story – we have all the time in the world, and I and the trees will keep your secrets.

  “My childhood was more than happy. The darkness didn’t bother me then. We would walk through the snow and meet with neighbours and friends. Together my younger sister and I played with other children in the spacious houses lit with natural blue light. Our lives were happy – just the four of us and our dog. We cherished each other.”

  Felicity heard the tremble in his voice as she actively listened to his story. Repeatedly she would glance up to indicate her attentiveness, and in the firelight, she saw sadness dance on his face and within his eyes.

  “Then Anja, my sister went missing. She was only thirteen.” The dirt on his cheeks cracked as his mouth fell, quivered and tears fell from his eyes.

  “The man, my father who used to laugh with us shattered and disintegrated – his soul once a splash of fresh water slowly evaporated in the harsh heat of the search.” Jonah paused as he recalled distant memories.

  “Go on. Remember we’re under unfamiliar skies, and there is nothing here other than the phantom mist and mingling shadows. Ghosts can’t hurt us only the living,” Felicity said softly.

  “He’d always been a man of grace and dignity, well dressed, generous with his company and had many friends. We were made of the same stuff – he was my hero. Then I was an only child. One which couldn’t take away the pain. On the surface, our lives continued, ordered and seemingly happy but behind the barrage of grief, something was festering within my father. All my parent's hopes and dreams were now focussed on me along with their fears that I would also suffer some terrible fate.”

  “That must have been a pressure.”

  “It was, but when you’re young, you adapt and survive, besides I was desperate to please them make them happy again.”

  “You said was,” Felicity said hesitantly. “Is your father no longer with us?”

  “I came here almost straight from the hospital. I think dementia had set in long before we realised. After Anja went missing, he threw himself into his work. He was a microbiologist working in Siberia studying pathogens in the permafrost. When after ten years she was found in a terrible state. Grief etched into his stony heart pointing the way down until he was consumed by the disease.”

  “I’m so sorry, I can’t imagine something harder to bear.”

  “I will never forget the sound in his voice. An old man weeping. Confined to bed and telling me how scared he was. The piteous fear of him trying to understand where he was and what he was supposed to do. The tumbling horror of seeing something precious rolling away, receding until out of sight.”

  “Outside the hospital window life went on as normal. I could hear the noise and laughter from the bar and the traffic of people visiting shops and going about their business. The contrast was bewildering.”

  “His love and kindness will always remain with you – it doesn’t die.”

  “My father never cried. It was heartbreaking to see such a respected man break down and once again I was helpless. I tried to hug him, but he got angry and pushed me away.”

  Felicity could hear his voice rise as he struggled with emotion. She clasped his dirty fingers and squeezed. “What was his name?”

  “Milton, strange I know. His sorrow and desperation wore him out, and he went back to mumbling random and absurd things which made no sense. I couldn’t share his hell.”

  “Then he gestured for me to come close. The fog in his head cleared. He whispered in my ear. Those words plunged me into a dark pit. Those clear and precise utterings grabbed me and wrenched me down, and now I can’t dig my way out. How can a man so perfect end up poisoned? There is no integrity in remaining silent but to speak out would betray the man he truly was.”

  “We can find a way to redeem ourselves and resume our lives, nothing is impossible,” Felicity said not wanting to pry and cause him to run off into the night. “Our problems are caused by the chaos of others – they’re not truly ours – we don’t own them. We must seek a peaceful place beneath the turbulent surface of this world.” At that moment she realised she didn’t want to die and perhaps never had. In helping another, she’d restored her strength and resolve to fight.

  “I know you want to help me but you can’t. Nobody can stop what’s coming.”

  Felicity stared into the fire. The branches were glowing white and the ash thick. She blinked her bleary eyes and was reassured that the needs of the body could overpower those of the mind. “Whatever that thing is which so haunts you – there are answers. You could change your name and turn your back on it all and walk away.”

  “It’s not as simple as that.”

  “I know, it never is, but we can make it all easier,” she said desperately trying to hang on to the shabby drowning man.

  “You haven’t told me your story yet,” he said.

  “If you sleep at my side until sunrise, not run away or do anything stupid, then tomorrow I will tell you my story.” She held out her hand. He took it and smiled weakly.

  No Tobacco

  Chapter Two

  Irvin under the weight of an oppressively grey sky was stuck on the bench unable to move. All his running, hopping from one country to the next had led him to the remote south Cornish village at the beginning of winter. What the hell am I doing here, on a Sunday when all the shops are shut, and I have no tobacco, he thought as he stared out at the irritating calm of the harbour. I’ll never survive my shift in the pub. He couldn’t remember when he’d last been in a position when he had no access to his drug of choice. Even phoning his mother Josie and asking for money wouldn’t help this time.

  He twisted around and saw a weak shaft of sunlight striking the windowpane of the pub where he worked, The Hungry Herring. He visualised opening the door, standing behind the bar, playing the role, the hard labour of pretence, making out he was connected but remaining separate. How can I do any of it without smoke? I need a hit of nicotine. The wealthy tourists with their healthy glow and colourful, expensive clothes would be filling out the gloom. His head would swim with their sickly perfume, the smell of wine and tobacco, and food as they hungrily grazed happily. Their overbearing richness lingering in the air excluded him from their world. His Bulgarian friend would have come to his rescue, and he would have held on to his dignity, but these people were indifferent to his plight.

  Irvin ran his fingers through his hair, sighed and cast his eyes to the ground desperately searching for a cigarette butt. He couldn’t lose this meagre job. Summer was King, and he needed to make enough money to travel to keep a distance from his crazy family and forge a new path of his own making. He’d actively avoided isolation because it was in the quiet still moments that the shrapnel of his past irritated threatening to destroy what little of himself he’d saved. It was why he’d sought out loud music, computer gaming and flamboyant people so he could join the flow of escape and be carried further along the stream. Fifteen minutes to go and he would have to leave the screeching seagulls equally desperate for a morsel.

  The questions from his childhood had overshadowed much of his life and his sisters, Felicity. He was twenty-six, and she was twenty-eight and had also spent much of her adult life escaping their parents. Recently she’d claimed that details of their older sister Elley’s disappearance had trickled back into her memory. He reca
lled nothing of what occurred how could either of them, they were only four and six years of age.

  Irvin had always been close to his father due to his love of gadgets and anything technical. His mother he frequently phoned for money which added to his guilt and resentment. Since his father's recent illness his mother, for the first time had without giving into floods of tears begun to explain what lay behind all the pretence and the illusion of a happy family.

  It was hard for Irvin to listen to a parent confessing things, even small things which as a child he hadn’t known. He was shocked when his mother had told him of a time when she and Dante, his father, warm and cuddling in bed had turned to her and said, ‘do you know you don’t really exist.’ She went on to explain that she’d always had religious feelings, but he’d prevented her from attending church and seemed to believe that because he wouldn’t entertain such notions, she shouldn’t either. ‘Religion is rules and the destroyer of endless possibilities,’ Dante had told her. Irvin was beginning to think both his parents were losing their marbles.

  All she’d wanted to do was go to church and meet some like-minded friends, he pondered curiously. Irvin’s attention was taken up with the appearance of the only other visible human, a girl and she was smoking. As she drew near, he recognised her from the pub. She had been singing with a group of friends as the locals often performed after the evening meals had finished.

  Irvin made an effort to smile. The girl grinned back and walked boldly in his direction. “Hello,” he said awkwardly, pushing down his discomfort. He didn’t know what else to say, it was as though he hadn’t spoken to anyone in a long time.

  “I thought I’d go for a walk before it got dark,” she said as dimples appeared in the healthy glow of her face. “It gets dark so early.”

  “I think we’re the only ones out and about today.” He cleared the croak from his throat. “Five more minutes and I’ve got work. It’s a drag because I’ve run out of fags and I can’t imagine going the whole shift gagging.”