Plymouth Sound

By Brian Lambert

Plymouth Sound.
Book One in the Plymouth Grey series.

Plymouth.
A city under siege.
Only no-one knows it.

Alex has come to see his grandfather but instead finds himself caught in an unearthly battle with an eerie smog-bound Plymouth as Ground-Zero.
From the modern-day city to secrets from the Elizabethan era Alex discovers a Plymouth he never dreamed existed.
To have any hope of surviving against the monsters hiding in the smog he must put his faith in a group of strangers who seem to know far more about his grandfather than he does.

The Plymouth Grey.
The first line of defence against paranormal threats affecting Plymouth.

A group whose only link between the members is the mysterious Incan crystal pendants in the treasure Sir Francis Drake took when he attacked the Spanish treasure ships in the South Pacific Ocean.
Their unique properties were only realised when he arrived back in Plymouth.
Even today their uses are still largely unknown.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Brian Lambert
• Release date: May 6, 2015
• ISBN: 9781310802126

Brian Lambert

Brian Lambert has wanted to be a writer since he was nine and, being a fierce traditionalist, is most eager to know if he’s done this Smashwords thing correctly. He is a serial backpacker, clouder, beach walker who also writes the blog The Sheep Was Here (thesheepwashere.com). He lives in Melbourne, Australia.

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Plymouth Sound

By

Brian D Lambert

Book One of the Plymouth Grey series

Story Copyright © Brian D Lambert 2015

Cover design by Jacqueline Sweet.

Distributed by Smashwords.

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your own use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

All rights reserved.

All the characters in this book are fictitious, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Prologue

Scotty

Scotty’s hackles rose. Muscles under his black peppery fur tensed. Something was outside and wanted to come in. Every sense he had was screaming at him about the danger.

Strange shadows brushed the rectangular smoked glass panel in the front door.

Rhythmic unearthly high-pitched noises put his nerves on edge too far and he barked. The sharp sound stilled the otherworldly sounds for a moment. He froze, had he just made a mistake?

His master called from upstairs, What is it, Scotty?

No! His master mustn’t come down! It wasn’t safe!

What to do? Indecision made him run towards the stairs and then to the front door where the threat was all too present.

Steps sounded at the top of the stairs.

Scotty! Back to bed boy!

He ran back to the bottom of the stairs and barked, trying to warn his master away.

Scotty! The sharp command stopped him in his tracks, but his ears flicked back to the front door as something large pushed against it.

He span round and ran at the door. With his front feet up against the dark wood he let loose a barrage of barks against the glass, filling the hallway with noise.

Scotty! the voice was closer and sharper now, and Scotty knew he was in trouble.

He turned and ran back to his master who was at the bottom of the stairs to keep him away from the danger, but in his agitation he pushed him backwards. With a cry of surprise his master fell back against the stairs.

Scotty turned and stood between his master and the door, growling at the tendrils of mist that curled up from the sides.

Scotty, his master said. His voice sounded weak. Scotty looked at him. What was wrong with him? The sparkly thing his master wore round his neck looked like it was getting dimmer.

The door burst open behind him. White fog billowed in filling the hallway. Grey tendrils flew towards Scotty and his master, enveloping them. Adrenaline surged through Scotty and he tried to bite and tear them off but they burned him too much and he yelped in pain; yet more joined to stick to his body. His master was too weak to put up a fight. Slowly, inexorably, they were dragged out of the front door into whiteness.

The door slammed behind them.

He’d failed.

Chapter – 1

Arrival in Plymouth

Views of the sea passed un-noticed by Alex’s train window. His short blond hair was pressed against the cold glass and he stared unseeing at the ground as the train travelled past it. He was only broken from his reverie by the announcement – Arrival at Plymouth station in five minutes.

He sighed and rubbed his forehead then, for the umpteenth time, checked his backpack was still in the rack above him. How would his grandfather feel at seeing him? Would he tell his mum and dad that he was there? He’d soon find out.

The train slowed down and he saw they were passing by an estuary. The tide was out and in the distance there were a couple of people out in the mud digging for bait. Where was this? Then his memory gave him the answer – it was the river Plym. The reason why Plymouth was so named.

His fellow passengers got up and started retrieving their belongings from the racks. He just let them get on with it – all he had was his backpack and he was in no rush.

They entered a series of tunnels and he remembered that it meant they weren’t far from the station.

The train slowed even more as they entered another tunnel. Alex remembered it was the last one, which went under Mutley Plain. The carriage was relit by sunlight and the station platform slowly passed his window.

With a final shunt the train stopped. He was in Plymouth, where he didn’t expect himself to be for some time.

Sunshine and a chill wind greeted him when he emerged from the station and he set out on the short walk up the hill, then across North Cross roundabout, heading towards Armada Way. His jeans and grey hooded top fitted in among the University students making their way back from lectures.

There seemed to be more charity shops than he remembered on previous visits to his grandfather. Twilight was coming and the shops seemed to be all closing up. His grandfather lived in the West Hoe area, so he decided to head straight down Armada Way, then up to the Hoe, and finally down to his grandfather’s house.

Up on the Hoe the sight of Plymouth Sound, the fantastic natural harbour, made him smile. A few boats bobbed in the waters between him and the breakwater, and to the left people were doing things on the Mountbatten jetty. Further out past the Breakwater there seemed to be a dense mist. He headed down to the West and his grandfather’s house.

Thoughts of how he’d be greeted rose unbidden into his mind. He was sure he’d be able to stay for a day or two, but then?

Down on the road he walked along until at last he reached the familiar dark wood door.

He took a deep breath and pressed the doorbell. Inside he heard the bell ring and waited for excited barking and his grandfather’s voice telling Scotty to calm down.

Nothing.

Maybe they were out? He did arrive unexpectedly. Behind him the streetlights winked on. He shielded his eyes and tried looking through the smoked glass panel but couldn’t make anything out. He’d try again and if that failed he’d use the key his grandfather gave him last time.

The button pressed, the bell sounded inside, he waited.

Nothing.

Reaching into his jeans pocket he pulled out his keyring and selected the relevant key. They were probably out somewhere. He’d get the kettle on, that would be one way to ease the way into his being there.

A cold breeze from the Sound ruffled his hair as he unlocked the door.

He pushed the door open and, more in hope than expectation, he called out,