Free Flux by Mark R. Faulkner Page A

town centre was busy; the long, straight pedestrianised area crammed with shoppers. Iain felt removed, as if slightly out of phase with the rest of the human race. No doubt the effects of the weed, it was a feeling he usually enjoyed but today he struggled to cope with the throngs of people who kept walking in front of him, crowding around, the dreaded double buggy snarling up all the bottlenecks.
    As Gary and Dave laughed between themselves, Iain started to drift off into his own little world. An elderly gentleman, walking in the opposite direction, coming towards them, caught his eye. There was something different about this man, something Iain couldn’t at first put his finger on until realising that unlike the other shoppers this figure had a clarity about it; was in phase with Iain’s dope-addled mind.
    They gained eye contact. Stares locked, they both continued down the street, turning their heads as they passed, the yellowing eyes strangely piercing and familiar. The old man smiled a toothless wet grin and Iain recognised him. But it was impossible! Bert died on the hospital ward. Spinning on his crutches to confirm his fears, the old man had disappeared; swallowed into the crowd.
    Caught in the grip of panic, Iain looked around for his friends. They were a few paces ahead, still laughing. He caught up with them as fast as he could. The throng of shoppers getting in his way, crowding around, seeming to be pushing in towards him. His heart raced.
    “This was a bad idea, I have to go home.”
    “But we’ve only just got here,” Gary said.
    “Sorry, I thought I was up to it, but I’m not.” A half truth.
    “Ok, I just need to quickly pop in here, then we’ll go.” They were standing in the entrance of a large, multi-floored music store which also sold DVDs, posters and games.
    “Alright then,” and he begrudgingly followed his friends into the shop, which was even busier than the street outside.
    He stood waiting, trying not to look around and being barged by other shoppers. He felt clammy, claustrophobic even. Dave was only a few feet away, browsing DVDs and Gary was nowhere in sight after disappearing deep into the store. They were being typically, and frustratingly slow in making their selections. Iain needed to get out, escape the melee. He breathed deeply, trying to hold it together.
    After finding nothing of interest, Dave moved off to find Gary, only to be distracted by the display of new release CDs. Iain followed, panic had well and truly set in and he could wait no longer.
    “I’m heading back home,” putting on a brave face.
    “We won’t be long now.”
    “I’m knackered; have to get out of here.”
    “OK. What you up to later?”
    “Dunno.”
    “Fancy a pint at the Swan?”
    “Dunno, maybe.”
    “OK then, see ya later.”
    “Yeah, see ya. Say bye to Gary for me.”
    “I will.” Dave turned back to the CDs. He probably wouldn’t buy anything.
    Exiting the shop, Iain already felt more relaxed as he headed towards the bus stop. He reached it in good time and without event. An old lady stood up to offer her seat. Iain giggled at the irony and thanked her, taking the seat because his good leg was starting to ache quite badly with the exertion of shopping.
    A pair of magpies flapped about in the gutter, pecking at something. Oh, two for joy. That makes a pleasant change, he thought to himself, craning his neck to see what scraps they were excited about. To his revulsion it was a pile of cold vomit, deposited the previous night by one of the town’s many drunken revellers. He watched them eat; transfixed and disgusted at the same time. One of the magpies slowed its feasting and seemed to look in Iain’s direction, cocking its head to one side and viewing him quizzically before opening its beak. A small piece of sick slid out, falling back to the ground. The magpie squawked, “They’re coming.”
    Iain couldn’t believe his ears. Shaking, he looked around to see if anyone else had