The three men were in silence, for a moment.
There was not much else to say. The one wearing glasses was holding his head in
his both hands, shaking it slightly, trying to process what he had just heard.
- How could that
be possible? Why did they do that? I wonder if such a complicated trip to the
future and with that purpose had helped anyone, anywhere, anytime, anyway…
- I guess we will
never know.
- Well, then how
would we know I really did get there and reached the intent?
-You would have never
gotten back here if you hadn’t.
- Then…?
- Oblivion was
rarely used in time travelling. It was efficient when they wanted to send the
voyagers back to when and where they came from. Sometimes also to prevent being
revisited. You travelled to help them and all mankind in the future. Those must
not be the reasons they used it in you. I
wonder what the real intention was…
That was not the only concern in the pale skinned
man’s mind, however. Something else seemed to be out of place. He thought the
parts they acknowledged about that whole story did not fit well, somehow, but
he did not want to express his apprehensions out loud still. He had some doubts,
but an idea was building up in his distressed mind. He had decided he needed to
think a little longer about it.
The young man had had trouble enough for
the moment and maybe he would need time to process some things before anything
else could be planned or done.
He tried to avoid his friends’ stares, when
he walked off for a while and stayed out in the porch, gazing at a point that
could not really be seen in the distance.
His mind was elsewhere, in another place
and another time… His thoughts were hastily overflowing and urging for action.
He needed to do something.
The pale man sat by the computer and typed
some words. The result of the search made him divert quickly to a string of
pages, until he thought he found what he was looking for.
He closed the laptop, straightened up and muttered
to himself:
- I think it’s
more than time to go and see this whole thing by myself…
He walked back to the living room.
- Guys, we need to
do something... but first we need to stop at the beach, on our way down to the
city.
- At the beach?
He acceded with a faint smile.
- Yes. At the
beach…
***
They drove along the beach road to where
the mills were standing. The car was parked not too far from their destination.
The wooden walkway was quite filled with passers-by. For all that mattered,
they were a bunch of beach-goers, walking erratically by the seashore, taking
pictures of everything around.
- There they are.
And what do we do now?
- There are too
many people around. We will need to be careful.
- For all that
matters, we are just looking for geocaches…
- Is that the
official version?
- Yes. That’s the
official one, but I don’t think anyone is interested in what we are doing here,
anyway.
They pretended to be taking pictures of
every feature of the peculiar rock and shale constructed buildings. There were
five of them along a line by the wooden built pathway, facing the sea. Each one
was photographed in detail to be scrutinized later. If the pale man was right
in his suspicions, they would need to come back to the beach in the evening,
for a closer check.
The night came down very slowly. They were
sitting out in the terrace, facing the sea and drinking cold beer, almost in
complete silence. The place was not busy. They had been analysing the pictures
taken and some needed to be zoomed up to show details of what they thought
would be useful later.
The pale skinned man was correct in his qualms.
There was something there... definitely…
***
The night was fresher and quieter. Three
silhouettes moved silently along the wooden pathway. The men knew what they
were looking for, but they needed to be careful. The mills were not public
property. The owners could have cameras installed around the area, which would
be a nuisance.
When they reached the mills, they looked
around to certify they were alone, before getting into their target. They
jumped over the roped rail, so to examine the first building.
The man wearing glasses suddenly got stiff.
- Do you hear
that?
- What?
- Shhh! Listen!
Someone was running on the wooden pathway.
- Quick, let’s
hide.
They hasted to the shadow of the round
building, hoping they had not been seen by the runner who was getting closer to
where they were. Their hearts were pounding hard. They could hear him (or her)
coming closer and closer.
A jogger wearing a dark hoodie slowed down
and stopped right in front of the mill. Looking around as if checking if there
were no one else around, the figure stepped into the private property and
disappeared from their sight. They heard a noise. It seemed the door was being
forced.
The man wearing glasses whispered.
- Who the hell is
that? How come he is here?
- Quiet!
The door seemed to have been opened. It
kind of complained in its ungreased hinges, with a distinctive sound.
- He is in! What
is he looking for in there?
- Let’s get out of
here, before someone shows up. This is getting too dangerous!
- Wait!
The loud sound of an alarm setting off was
coming from inside the house. They heard someone hurrying down the stairs and
suddenly the hooded figure sprinted past them, jumped over the roped rail and
disappeared in the darkness, away from them and from the light.
Not long afterwards a police car, flashing
its red and blue lights, raced up the cobblestone street, followed by a white
van with red lettering on the side. The two cars stopped by the mill. They
heard the noise of people shouting and running closer…
- What the fuck? Did
you see that? I can’t believe this!
- What are these
guys doing here? What are they up to?
- This is not good
news! Let’s get out of here before it’s too late.
- No. Wait! That
man did not have time enough to search for things while he was in there. I
wonder what he was looking for upstairs. Maybe this is our chance to get in the
mill, without trespassing…
- What do you
mean? Are you crazy? We cannot go in there. These guys are dangerous and they
might know us!
- I’ve just had an
idea. We’ll turn around the mill and pretend we are just nosy passers-by trying
to find out what’s going on here. We better split!
- This is crazy,
man!
- Don’t think much.
Just go. Now!
People were coming from different
directions. A police event was something the quiet village was not used to, so
it was quite a commotion.
They walked around, separated from each
other, trying to avoid being seen together.
When the man wearing glasses was approaching
the door, he felt like someone pulled him back.
- Hey!
He turned around. A policeman was holding
his arm. He stiffened when he realized there was another man, he was sure he
had seen before, standing by the officer.
***