Discover millions of ebooks, audiobooks, and so much more with a free trial

Only $11.99/month after trial. Cancel anytime.

Alternate | Book 1: A Jimmy Ray Journey, #1
Alternate | Book 1: A Jimmy Ray Journey, #1
Alternate | Book 1: A Jimmy Ray Journey, #1
Ebook272 pages3 hours

Alternate | Book 1: A Jimmy Ray Journey, #1

Rating: 0 out of 5 stars

()

Read preview

About this ebook

Book 1 | A Jimmy Ray Journey

290 Pages

 

Jimmy Ray leaves his ordinary life behind, and embarks on an expedition through a diversity of fascinating worlds, with his co-traveler Cia. Will he adapt and find the key to the multi-dimensional system to bring the lost traveler home?

Mr. Ray's exploration transcends deeper as each dimension becomes more sinister. Can he connect to his alternate self to seek the help he needs to unlock the distant reaches of the multi-dimensional map!

 

Jimmy Ray is selected by a highly classified agency Alternate to help find a lost traveler, stuck in a lost dimension Komodonia for nine years. Stepping into the volatile world of an "Alternate" traveler, he must learn fast, thrown straight into the action as the search begins.

 

For those who like the idea of alternate dimensions, you'll enjoy this one. An exciting, fast-paced sci-fi thriller with a small dose of fantasy. An entertaining journey through alternate worlds across the multi-dimensional system. There is the odd humor, emotion, and plenty of exploration.

LanguageEnglish
Release dateMar 10, 2020
ISBN9781393095408
Alternate | Book 1: A Jimmy Ray Journey, #1

Related to Alternate | Book 1

Titles in the series (1)

View More

Related ebooks

Science Fiction For You

View More

Related articles

Reviews for Alternate | Book 1

Rating: 0 out of 5 stars
0 ratings

0 ratings0 reviews

What did you think?

Tap to rate

Review must be at least 10 words

    Book preview

    Alternate | Book 1 - CHRISTOPHER JAMES BUXTON

    Keep up to date with developments on my future novels, please visit:  CBESCAPENOVELS.COM

    Map V5a 55x85 CMYK Grey.jpgPyramids 55x85 Grey.jpg

    ESCAPING THE NOISE

    E

    xhausted with wrong, this world has become. The need to escape its grip of negativity and blanket of impending doom is greater than ever. Fiction in any form releases our inner wonder, sparks our creative neurons that enable us to imagine. The result is an injection of positive energy to refresh and recharge our souls. Our souls that, in an inexorable world changing swifter than time itself, plead for reprieve from this connected entity. One filled with persuasion, which is our world – or perhaps it’s the internet. It becomes irrelevant which, as they are one and the same.

    Differences from the world we grew up in surround us all, infecting our nostalgia. Interests, traditions, and even people are not the same as they once were. You can be forgiven for suspecting we have merged into an alternate dimension. Our reality is now alternate, so it’s the only plausible explanation... isn’t it? 

    Transport yourself away from the noise of this world, just for a moment. Make yourself comfortable and switch off your attached mind.

    Enjoy as you enter this separate new world.

    As you leave.

    As you escape...

    PROLOGUE

    A

    s the deafening sound of Sarus ripped through the frail ashes behind him, the sky continued to darken with the deepest shade of red. The street was deserted, scattered in destruction and filled with scorched cars – their engines now nothing more than liquid metal – littered underneath the twisted branches of the blackened, lifeless trees.

    Upon inhaling the pungent reek that now contaminated the air, Caspian coughed and spluttered, fearing he wouldn’t make it back to the transfer point in time. Maybe the day he’d always dreaded most had arrived – the moment he’d thought about ever since his first transfer.

    Knowing he must make it to the point no matter what, he reached for his electronic titanium bow and pulled back the bowstring, taking aim at Sarus’s head as the furious dragon thrashed around in the crimson air before him.

    On the brink of releasing the trigger, however, Caspian’s inner self reminded him he could not do this.

    You know the consequences.

    A fear worthy of attention it was, as killing any creature in this Alternate would have a dramatic effect, potentially causing a disastrous change to occur in his own home alternate reality.

    Instead, Caspian retrieved his bow and arrow and hoisted them back onto the shoulder connecter, which was fixed to his slim backpack. As he looked back at Sarus, he could see the dragon’s neck and throat begin to illuminate a bright orange red as the fire accumulated beneath his scales. Within seconds a gigantic burst of fire projected out from his mouth and, with wicked venom and audacious speed, shot straight at its intended victim.

    Just in time, Caspian adjusted his run to the right and leaped over a bench, quickly making his way down the embankment and towards the city’s park.

    He gave himself a moment to check his waypoint position via his Lens assistant, an AI computer that synthetically formed over his eye as a contact lens. His destination was close; he needed to make his way through the Chanted Gardens and down to Heeley Street.

    As his Lens relocated his required route, the building directly in front of him burst into flames. The glazing from the front façade cascaded through the air towards him; he ducked and rolled to the floor, before taking cover behind a public telephone booth.

    Remaining behind the booth, Caspian noticed that a large shard of glass had sliced and wedged into his upper arm. He braced himself, taking in a deep breath as he painstakingly removed it, and then – in conjunction with a small ejection of blood that spurted from his arm – sighed in relief once it was out. I must wrap this tight with the bandage kit I brought with me, he thought desperately.

    His destination was only 100 yards away, so with renewed vigour he put in his gold earbud headphones and, via phone, pressed play on his classical playlist in attempt to block out Sarus’s vicious noise. As the artful string instruments clashed with the brass instruments of the symphony orchestra, Caspian continued towards Heeley Street in his frantic endeavour to reach the transfer point.

    Once again Sarus began to operate his wings, starting with a slow, steady motion and increasing at an accumulative rate. As they reached rapid motion, he took flight, soaring towards Caspian with an intensity that rippled through the hot, burning air.

    No, this can’t be happening! If Sarus gets in front of me I’m out of options, Caspian’s fear warned him.

    The very moment his fear spoke Sarus landed barely 20 yards in front of him, standing proudly in the centre of Heeley Street, the magnificent sight of the Ponden Ferris wheel in shadow behind him. Now that he was directly in front of Caspian, Sarus appeared as tall as the Ferris wheel itself.

    The dragon’s mouth opened, releasing an enormous, vicious cry of intent, and once again Caspian could see that the fire was imminent. With this knowledge, he asked his Lens assistant to show him a safe passage around the large bastard dragon.

    Moments later, with the safe path calculated, Caspian commenced his route around Sarus. The flames bellowed from the dragon’s mouth, sweeping a path of fire from left to right and scorching most of the road – and anything else within the vicinity.

    Just before the fire touched him, Caspian managed to dive forward into a small opening in the side of a building. Crouching and breathing heavily, he hid there as Sarus’s eyes focused on the opening, the urge to find and destroy his prey evident in his large, black, vertical pupils.

    As the dragon initiated the next burst of his primary weapon, Caspian simultaneously ran back out onto the road, parallel to Sarus’s left leg.

    This is my chance to wound it – it’s now or never, Caspian realised, hoisting his Alternate special issue knife (layered with Enchantments) from its initial Casting. He then stretched out his arm as he glided past, slicing deep into Sarus’s leg.

    As a loud, bone-crunching cry was heard, molten blood radiated out from between the beast’s scales. Sarus limped and staggered away for a brief respite, smashing and demolishing the frontages of Heeley Street’s abandoned commercial buildings.

    OK, that should get him off my back for a moment while I reach the transfer point, Caspian thought, relieved.

    With his transfer point now in sight, he began walking towards it quickly, full of conviction. When his Lens reminded him that he had only 20 seconds left to reach it before the layer closed, Caspian upped his brief pace to a run, panic now beginning to set in.

    Just as he was about to leap into the layer opening, a sharp swing of Sarus’s tail swept Caspian off his feet and hurled him into the darkened, ash-infested air. Plummeting despondently through the smog, he could just about make out the layer opening closing, the veil of bright blue and white light fading more and more until it diminished completely.

    I’m too late, Caspian realised, the hope that had been building inside him vanishing in an instant. I’ve missed my transfer point! No, this can’t be... I’m stuck. He shook his head in shock. I’m stuck here forever!

    Thoughts of his family streamed into his mind, just as a digital broadcast would stream via an internet connection to a TV: instantly. As he shed his first tear at the thought of not being able to see his daughter grow up, Caspian reached out to the transfer opening, extending one finger in a final effort to make it home.

    The opening closed and he fell to the ground, sobbing in frustration and anger. The harrowing thought of being lost in this alternate reality – possibly forever – was so overwhelming that he passed out under the weight of his deep, unrelenting fear.

    CHAPTER 1

    ROUTINE [NINE YEARS LATER]

    A

    nother soul-eradicating day arrived for thirty-four-year-old Jimmy Ray, who – as usual – woke up to the sound of his retro-style radio alarm clock. Taking a deep breath, he bellowed out a frustrated, anxious sigh as the day’s agenda ran through his mind and, inevitably, moodiness dawned.

    Jimmy’s apartment, which was located within central Ponden City, was only just above what you might expect for a basic but finely fitted two-bedroom apartment. It had most of the latest technological features, but it wasn’t anything to get too excited about.

    Jimmy started his day like he always did: straight to the kitchen to brew some tea before moving into the living room to watch the morning news, followed by waiting for the moment when the caffeine from the tea would activate his system. Utilising the bathroom for his morning spruce up – including the combing of his lengthy black hair – he paused and took a second to reminisce about the discreet scar just below his left eye. Once dressed, he picked up his workbag, ready to proceed with his usual commute to work.

    Jimmy’s profession as an architect met his financial needs, but nothing more. His typical day at work featured the usual daily stress, the frustration of problem-solving, and an overall feeling of being unfulfilled. Having been through the mill, he’d ultimately become utterly tired after years and years of the same old stuff.

    He’d been pondering a way to change his career for a while now, although he couldn’t do so without being reminded of the positives of his job. After all, he got on well with his work colleagues, and so – when he looked at things from that perspective – he was happy enough. He was also able to relax on the weekends, which he felt was reason enough for him to stick with his chosen career. Even so, as the weeks passed him by and he endured the same daily routine over and over again, he realised his life had become stagnant.

    Finally, the weekend arrived, and it was during an unusually murky, dark Saturday afternoon that an old friend of Jimmy’s paid him an unexpected visit. His name was Martin Latham, and he was older than Jimmy. He knew him from college; Martin used to be a lecturer at the same university Jimmy studied at, though not his own lecturer – Jimmy himself had studied for an architectural degree, while Mr Latham taught theoretical physics. They’d known each other socially back in those days, having spent many an evening playing snooker together at the local no-thrills pool hall named ‘Potts’.

    Martin was of average build, with a pale face and a short, dark beard. He wore large silver-framed glasses, which seamlessly morphed into his short but relatively crazy ruffled hair. He’d always been a rather eccentric character, with just a touch of madness about him. Always having a desire for anything slightly crazy, together with a strong interest in the unknown... that sure was Martin Latham.

    ‘Mr Latham, come and make yourself at home,’ welcomed Jimmy. ‘Would you like a brew?’

    ‘That would be splendid, old friend; I will have a fine cup of tea please, sir,’ came the reply.

    ‘So, how are things?’ asked Jimmy as he gestured at Martin to have a seat. ‘I haven’t seen you for... what, a few years now?’

    ‘That long? Blimey, Jimmy – time is certainly a fickle entity, isn’t it? But yes, I am fine, thanks. Just been incredibly busy.’

    ‘Still overworking you at the university, I take it?’ Jimmy asked as he popped the kettle on and set about getting the cups ready.

    ‘Oh no, I left that soul-sucking place a while back. Now I’m just doing some consultancy work for a private company,’ Martin explained, followed by a rather ominous cough.

    ‘Sounds interesting, Mr Latham. Tell me more?’ He poured the hot water into the cups, stirring the liquid until the teabags turned it brown.

    ‘Mr Latham, you say, I like that!’ Martin smiled as he continued, ‘I can’t really tell you anything, I’m afraid. It’s a bit secret, you see. Although, maybe...’

    ‘Maybe what?’ Jimmy snapped, hopeful excitement in his voice.

    Martin seemed to think about this for a moment. ‘Well, OK, I suppose I can let you know a few things...’

    ‘Well, go on then,’ Jimmy encouraged as he added a spot of milk and brought the drinks over, sitting down opposite his friend and handing him one of the cups.

    Martin nodded in acknowledgement of the tea before clearing his throat. ‘Be warned: you’re either going to think I’m crazy or taking the proverbial, as they say.’

    As Martin shuffled himself to sit upright with pride, ready to begin, Jimmy’s eyes focused, ready for whatever he was about to say.

    ‘OK,’ he said after a moment, having taken a few sips of his tea, ‘here it is: I have been working for a secret company, one who uses technology yet unknown to the general public. I’m talking about the kind of technology that enables us to do unimaginable feats.’

    ‘Unimaginable feats?’ responded Jimmy, his voice both curious and sceptical.

    ‘Yes... but I’ve said enough already, and I really should be heading back home now; it’s been an exhausting year – I mean, day.’ He shuffled in his seat again, his body language clearly a little out of sorts as he evidently tried to avoid disclosing any more information.

    ‘Fair enough,’ replied Jimmy, not wanting to push his old friend any further just now. ‘We’ll have to catch up again soon, maybe go to Potts for some casual frames next time, relive the old days?’ he suggested.

    ‘That’s most definitely a good idea, Mr Ray. We’ll do that soon,’ he agreed, but wasn’t convincing with his delivery. Jimmy could see he was looking at him in a strange way, his mind a million miles away from snooker.

    Jimmy continued his weekend as normal, watching a film and partially enjoying a microwave meal for one on Saturday night. He indulged in this Saturday evening ritual every week, well aware that he did it only to play his part in this reality. To dig a little deeper, he also knew that doing this was just a way of conventionally masking the loneliness and boredom that screamed from his soul during every waking hour.

    Jimmy felt groggy the following morning, as he sat at the edge of his bed with his head placed firmly in his hands. Another small tradition he held true to was travelling on Sundays to visit his parents, who lived out of town. On this particular Sunday his dad’s local football team were playing at home, and so his dad had decided to treat him to the misery of going to watch. Jimmy couldn’t stand football, but it was the only time he and his dad got to spend together, and so he obliged without saying anything. After all, it was an afternoon out, even if he was hung over.

    During the match Jimmy’s attention started to fade away, but not because the match was practically a non-event. No, he just couldn’t stop thinking about what his old friend Martin had told him – mostly the company he apparently worked for, and why he couldn’t share any more information about it. Then there was just how awkward he’d looked the entire time he’d been at Jimmy’s place.

    Clearly, he wanted to leave before saying anything he shouldn’t, so he couldn’t have been lying... or could he? Jimmy thought to himself.

    He continued to process these sorts of thoughts as he tried to understand what his old friend had been trying to tell him, but he soon reached the conclusion that it all seemed too crazy to comprehend. Martin must have been having a joke with him, or had at least been making it sound more exciting than it actually was.

    All that talk of secrecy and unknown tech, it’s just... Jimmy shook his head and tried to ignore his thoughts, instead focusing back on the football match he’d been watching before his mind had started to drift.

    Monday morning arrived as unwanted as a floating dot in one’s vision, and this only meant one thing for Jimmy: it was time to return to work, to sink back into the same soul-destroying, laborious agenda. As usual, he got up and went through his Monday morning routine before heading into the office.

    Just as the disheartening normalities of his profession set in – as they did at the start of every week – the wired phone on Jimmy’s dedicated workstation began to ring with conviction.

    Placing the receiver cautiously to his ear, Jimmy answered slightly reluctantly, but with an inquisitive tone, ‘Hello?’

    ‘Yes, Jimmy old friend. It’s me, Martin.’

    ‘Wait, how did you...?’ Jimmy started to ask, confused.

    ‘It doesn’t matter, old friend.’

    Jimmy decided not to enquire any further. After all, he was eager to hear more.

    ‘Listen carefully,’ Martin continued, his voice low, ‘leave the office and meet me at the back of Potts, immediately.’

    Jimmy couldn’t tell whether he was being serious or not. ‘Come on, Martin, you need to tell me what for and why. I can’t just leave the office for no reason. What’s wrong?’

    ‘There isn’t any time to explain,’ he replied, a slightly panicked tone to his voice, ‘just meet me there as quick as you can.’

    Jimmy took a moment to think. Screw it; if my boss wants to give me a warning then so be it. I just don’t care anymore. ‘I’ll be there.’

    And so, he swiftly turned off his work computer and headed down to Potts, wondering the whole way what on earth was going on.

    As he entered the snooker hall, he saw Martin already waiting for him in the corner of the room. He started walking in his direction.

    ‘Come quickly now, old friend!’ Martin exclaimed, gesturing him over.

    ‘OK, OK, but why the rush?’ Jimmy asked, already thinking how strange this whole thing was.

    Without replying, Martin escorted Jimmy into a small room towards the back of the building. Positioned in the centre of the room was a large red leather chair.

    With an almost sinister grin in place, Martin locked focus with Jimmy and spoke the words, ‘Mr Latham, access code Alternate Zero One.’

    The chair began to activate, slowly lowering into the ground before tucking away to one side. A hatch then ascended into its place.

    Jimmy gave a nod and stuck out his bottom lip, clearly impressed.

    The room now housed a mysterious glossed aluminium hatch, recessed into the floor.

    Upon completing the manual opening of the hatch, Martin proceeded to climb down the ladder, pausing to say to Jimmy, ‘Come on, Mr Ray, have no fear! Trust me; you won’t regret what you’re about to discover!’

    Without too much hesitation, Jimmy obeyed and followed him down the ladder.

    As the hatch clicked closed above them, Jimmy looked at their new surroundings. The room they stood in was plain blue, with polished marble walls. It was also entirely empty.

    ‘Wait for it,’ Martin whispered, and a moment later the walls illuminated vibrantly as the sound of electronic vibrations surrounded them. ‘Level fifty,’ instructed Martin with distinction, and suddenly the room started to elevate downwards, gradually increasing in speed as it went.

    Jimmy was becoming more and more excited, glad to finally be experiencing something out of the norm.

    The electronic screeching became more apparent during the final stages of the descent, before ceasing completely.

    ‘This, Jimmy,’ announced Martin, ‘is it.’

    Looking utterly puzzled and humoured all at the same time, Jimmy

    Enjoying the preview?
    Page 1 of 1