Crosswinds
Fighting against magic users never stuck me as particularly fair, especially when the spell was more visible than audible. Audible is just a preference on my part, an understandable preference mind you, but now it just sounds like I'm whining.
The reason I bring this up, is that it is still fresh in my mind. Some 'enchantress' found some sort of 'time-and-dimention' spell... I'm still not entirely clear on the details... And I wound up -somewhere- very groggy and drastically disorientated. Given my abilities, it wasn't long before I deduced that I was in a forest. Granted, that doesn't help me much, but my radar sense isn't the same as being psychic or anything, so I cut myself some slack.
I let out a groan of protest as I lifted myself off the ground and onto my feet. Expanding my radar sense to its maximum radius led me to discover that I was not alone in my plight. I could perceive the outline of a prone male human form, still breathing (thank goodness) perhaps he could provide answers. Or maybe he was in the same predicament as me, either way I might need his help.
"Hey, are you okay?" I called out as I inched carefully towards him, "Hello?"
"Ugh..." I felt him sit up, slowly, as if he were nauseous. "Where am I, Who are you... How'd I get here?"
"I don't know where we are, or how you...we got here." I said sighing, "Though I really wish I did. My name is Mathew Murdock, but my friends call me Matt."
"My name Captain Arthur Hastings-and my friends by-and-large call me Hastings...Or Captain Hastings, it depends on the person and the situation. Sorry, I ramble sometimes when I'm unsettled."
His heartbeat remained steady, he was telling the truth.
"Understandable I assure you Hastings," I said nodding, "Do you see anything that might indicate where we are?"
Hastings looked at me, presumably to take in my appearance. His heart picked up momentarily in surprise but quickly resumed a normal cadence. He swiveled his head around and took in our surroundings. "I feel like I can't see the forest through the trees, if you'll forgive my expression." he sighed heavily, "Perhaps I should attempt to climb a tree, so that I can get a better sense of the lay of the land."
From what I could perceive, Hastings was in good shape. He stood slightly taller than me, not to mention the fact that he'd been in an army... the British army by his accent...and that he'd made it to Captain. He could most likely handle climbing a tree.
"Good idea," I said, and not wanting to feel useless I continued, "let me know if you need a boost to reach a branch or something."
"There's a tree that seems ideal, strong looking branches." I could feel him move to the tree, "Looks like I can manage on my own, even with my leg."
His...leg? Was he injured? "Your leg is hurt?" I inquired with a note of panic, realizing he somewhat favored one leg when he had stood up and his gate suggested that he subconsciously shifted his weight off to one side.
"Old war injury, It doesn't hinder me too much." I could hear his smile as he said that and I felt reassured. He climbed the tree with out further commentary, when he'd neared the top he shouted back down to me, "There's a cabin out here, we should head towards it. There might be someone who could help us."
"Sounds like a plan."
He scrambled down the tree, and observed the sky. "The sun seems to be setting... so that would be the west... we're heading North-East by the looks of it."
"I could use your help in that area..." I said, raising an eyebrow.
"Right, sorry... So you grab my arm and I just walk normally, watching out for un-even terrain...is that the gist of it?"
"Yeah." I reached out and grabbed his arm above the elbow. His sleeve was made out of a slightly course material, but it wasn't unpleasant by any means.
After about five minutes of maneuvering over some troublesome terrain we made it to the cabin. My radar sense told me it was of a respectable size and stood in a generous clearing.
"There's a path off to our right, probably the way to a town or at least a paved road." Hastings commented enthusiastically, "And the cabin appears to be in excellent up-keep, which is good."
The term 'Thank you Captain Obvious' flashed across my mind, and I was sorely tempted to say it. We walked up a porch and Hastings rapped on the door. I could hear a heartbeat approach the door and a voice call out, "Hold on a second..." then a much clearer, "Who's there?"
"We're lost, If it's not too much trouble I would request the use of a phone... or barring that, directions to the nearest town."
The door opened and my radar sense perceived a tall man step out. "Where were you heading when you got lost?"
"We weren't. We don't know where we are at all." I answer adding a tone of exhaustion to my statement in the hopes of garnering some pity.
"I see... Here." he held something out, "You guys can use my cellphone."
"Cellphone?" Hastings said curiously... "What is -this-?"
"You're behind on the times there buddy." He turned to me, "I'd hand it to you, but it's a touch-screen. Just tell me the number you want."
I recite the number of my office, but I don't get Nelson or his answering machine... the number couldn't be completed as dialed. It then occurred to me that I might not be in America.
"Nope... couldn't be completed. I might need an extension number." I pondered aloud.
"That is a phone?" Hastings sounded perplexed and unsure.
"Are you Amish or something?" the guy asks incredulously.
"No, I've just never..." Hastings trailed off.
"Where are we?"
"Currently you're at the outskirts of the Grove." He said hesitantly, "Though I still fail to see how you managed to get here with out knowing that...and you're sort of trespassing. I'll grant that you're lost, but there are clear fences. What are your names anyway?"
"I'm Matthew Murdock, attorney at law. This is Captain Arthur Hastings."
A beat of silence, a sharp in-take of breath. "You're kidding me...right?"
"What do you mean by that?" Hastings sounded genuinely confused, and I was right behind him there...
"Hercule Poirot and Foggy Nelson."
"How did you-" I started before being interrupted by Hastings, "You know Poirot?
"They're here too."
"What?"
Darkness stuck once again... what-what, where, why? GAH!
Short soft grass, smells like... I couldn't put my finger on it, but it smelled somewhat familiar. Sand is blowing on my face, carried by light breeze. Left hand is covered lightly in sand...
Where was I? Hasting's heartbeat, somewhat erratic, but it's leveling out. He handles panic well, good to know.
"Not this again!" Hastings huffed out angrily, "Where- Oh this is interesting..."
"What is it?
"We're at a golf course."
"Huh." I shook my head to clear it, "I grant that's unusual...relatively speaking of course. But what makes it interesting?"
"I'm an avid golfer, it's one of my favorite past times."
"Never saw the appeal myself."
"I mostly do it for the company and the outdoor setting. Though my best friend Hercule Poirot sees no merit in it, says it's not a sport."
"Your friend has quite the name, never heard anything quite like it before."
"Oh, you haven't?" Hastings sounded a little dejected, "He's a famous detective from Belgium, I was sort of hoping you'd heard of him."
"Nope, sorry."
"Maybe you've heard of Chief Inspector James Japp of Scotland Yard?"
"You know the Chief Inspector of Scotland Yard?" He was telling the truth, but I was still somewhat bewildered.
"Yes, he's worked with Poirot and myself on quite a few cases."
"You call your best friend by his last name?"
"Everyone calls him by his last name."
"I'm a lawyer, my best friend is a lawyer too, we have a law firm together. Nelson & Murdock, His first name is Franklin but everybody calls him Foggy."
"Foggy?" Hastings sounded amused, "Is there some sort of story behind that nickname?"
"His little sister Candace couldn't say Franklin right off, called him Foggy. He liked the way it sounded." I sighed, "What happened back there anyway?"
"I'm tempted to say that we were gassed or drugged-something of that nature- but I don't remember any odd smells, or feeling woozy prior to suddenly appearing here."
"Same here, but someone is obviously playing us."
"I-I wonder what the date might be, I have no idea how long we've been out."
"I would hazard the guess that we're still in 2013."
"WHAT?! The year is 1929!"
"Oh boy... something tells me another wrinkle's been added here..."
"I thought the first name insistence was odd, in the London of -my time...I guess-, everyone used last names."
"This explains why you didn't know what a cellphone was. However, this brings us no closer to figuring out the W's"
"The...W's?"
"Who, What, Where, When, and Why... We don't know anything."
"The bloke in the cabin said Poirot and... er, that -Foggy- were 'here' too. Assuming he wasn't lying, and by 'here' he meant this place, it's entirely possible we're being tested as to whether or not we can find them."
"That doesn't sound good; not that I doubt your theory Hastings, I just don't like the implications of that- at all." Suddenly, I perceived two voices off in the distance. They were far enough away that they probably couldn't see us, I signaled to Hastings to be quiet.
"First a forrest, and now a golf course..." Said one... his voice seemed familiar-Foggy?!
"It is perplexing, to say the least. ", replied the other.
"Foggy!", I cried out hopefully.
"Matt?!", Foggy's voice, strained and surprised called back to me.
The two approached quickly, and they soon came into 'view'.
"Poirot!" Hastings cheered loudly and I winced at his volume.
"Mon ami Hastings, Oh Mon ami, Mon ami!" A short chubby figure rushed to Hastings and threw his arms around him in a warm embrace. "You are a sight for the eyes that are sore!"
"It's 'a sight for sore eyes' old boy, and I'm glad to see you too!"
Foggy stood in place, seemingly dismayed, unsure of whether or not I was a mirage.
I heard his heart beat... It was Foggy's heart, threatening to leap out of his chest.
I ran up to him instead, it wasn't hard given that the terrain here was relatively level. My approach seemed to snap him out of indecision and he threw himself into my embrace.
"Matt, I'm so glad...I can't even tell you how happy I am!"
"Same here Foggy. Though I'm worried too, now that I know you're in -this place- as well." Foggy nodded in understanding.
"I do not know where we are," Poirot said, "but I do know I owe Monsieur Nelson my life Hastings."
Foggy shrugged sheepishly, "It was nothing, really."
"Nonsense!"
"What did he do Poirot?" Hastings asked, sounding awed. I could feel Foggy blush, "I was just in the right place to help, that's all."
"What DID you do Foggy? I want to hear this." I demanded, curiosity definitely peaked.
"Poirot had upset a rattle snake, it was doing that whole 'rear up and hiss' routine. I just happened to be behind the snake, so I grabbed it behind it's head."
"As it was about to strike, he was faster than the snake!"
I gripped Foggy's shoulder, "See, It's like I told you before Foggy, everybody has it in them to be a hero."
Foggy shrugged slightly, "I-I guess, if you think I was a hero, it's not really a point I can argue, is it?"
"You got that right."
"Hastings," Poirot said as he turned to his friend, "A part of me is not surprised to find you here, given the setting."
"Oh, very funny Poirot."
I laughed good-naturedly. Foggy just seemed to be confused, "I don't-"
"Captain Hastings is a very avid golfer."
"I see... Captain, where did you serve?"
"He served in the first World War."
"There was a second one?!" Hastings demanded with a slight note of panic in his tone. I could only nod in confirmation.
"You mean-" Foggy turned to me, "Oh boy... This got interesting."
"According to Hastings, it's 1929."
Poirot turned to me, "It is true, It is 1929."
"As far as Foggy and I are concerned it's 2013."
"...Given that no one of us knows where we are, we cannot rule out any possibilities." Poirot didn't sound too happy about that or the statement that followed, "Even, time travel."
"Hastings and I ran into a strange man in a forest cabin before waking up here. He told us that you both were here, mentioned you both by name."
Hastings snapped his fingers, "Right! Didn't he mention the 'outskirts of the Grove'?"
I nodded, "Yes, which is at least something to go off on... but I'm not sure if he meant the forest or this golf course when he said that."
"Oh," Poirot started, "I mustn't forget my manners! What is your name Monsieur?"
"My name is Matthew Murdock, attorney-at-law, You've already met Foggy. I'm the second half of the law firm; Nelson & Murdock."
"I am Monsieur Hercule Poirot, Private Detective. And you've already met my associate, Captain Arthur Hastings."
"Uh... guys?" Foggy said sounding worried.
"What is it, what's wrong?"
"I-I had this odd feeling in the forest before we woke up here... I'm having the same feeling right now." I rushed to reassure Foggy,
"It's probably just nerves."
Darkness... okay, it wasn't just nerves. I owe Foggy an apology. I hadn't felt anything, but that didn't make Foggy's intuition any less valid.
Heartbeats again... Foggy lay nearby, Hastings and Poirot were still with us.
More sand, and the sound of waves. There's the definite smell of salt, and I hear several sea-gulls calling out.
We all pulled ourselves up to our feet. Poirot madly brushed at the sand on his trousers, while Hastings helped him brush it off of his back.
"Okay... now we're on a beach. Fun." I commented bluntly, absently brushing the sand out of my hair.
"There are palm tree's here, the kind with coconuts." Foggy bent down and scooped up something from the ground. He raised it above his head and brought it down forcibly onto a large bolder. At the sound of the crack, I realized that he was opening a coconut that he had found.
"I don't much like coconut milk, but beggars can't be choosers." He took a few small sips and then offered it to me, "Do you want some?" I nodded as he handed it to me. He was right, we needed to stay hydrated.
Hastings cracked open a coconut of his own and handed it to Poirot to drink from first before having some himself.
"There's some banana's here, but they're very green." Foggy 'hmmed' in thought, "But if we start a fire and cook them, they should taste just fine." He turned to me, "They're still in the tree though..."
"I can handle that." I said grinning as Foggy guided me over to the tree in question. I made quick work of climbing the tree, the rough bark providing a decent grip.
"Good Lord." Hastings exclaimed distantly, obviously impressed by my athletic prowess. I yanked a bunch of bananas from the tree, "I'm going to toss these down!" I shouted.
"We're ready!" Hasting's shouted, now standing next to Foggy. I let the bunch go and heard it fall into something that sounded soft.
"Got it!" Foggy called up, then he turned to Hastings, "Using your jacket was a great idea."
I hurried down the tree, "What did you guys do?"
"Hastings and I held his jacket between us to catch the banana's."
"Very clever."
We built a fire pit, and used Poirot's small magnifying glass to help start a respectable blaze. Foggy used the heat of the fire to sanitize some sticks and handed one to Hastings who skewered two banana's on the end of the stick and held it out over the fire. He handed Poirot and myself sticks, with our banana's pre-skewered.
"There were more coconuts on the ground," Foggy said while standing up, "I'll go crack some more."
We all finished our meal fairly quickly, and it wasn't at all unpleasant (which is saying something).
Foggy groaned, "Not again!"
"Is the odd feeling back?"
"Yes, and it feels stronger this time!"
"Just breath Foggy-"
This again. Darkness, I was really starting to hate this. It was total sensory deprivation, no radar sense. I keep calling it darkness, because without my extra-ordinary perceptions I was truly blind. But-for all I knew, the transitions could have bright flashes of light accompanying them.
Rocky terrain again, more so than the forrest. Air seemed thinner, and it was cooler than the beach. All members accounted for.
"We're at the base of a mountain..." There was someone coming up to us, probably having spotted us from quite a distance.
"Where the hell did you lot come from?!"
A man, tall and broad shouldered. His voice was deep and rough, while still managing to sound worried and tense.
"That's a rather difficult question to answer." I said disarmingly, "we don't know where we are, nor where we just were."
"... You guys too?" He sighed heavily, "Does nobody know what's going on here?"
"You are lost too, no?" Poirot asked sympathetically. The man nodded forlornly, "Been lost for a while now, hard to keep track of the time when one keeps getting knocked out and re-located."
"Where were you when this first started?"
"At a golf course, where I was collecting stray golf balls. The golf course isn't far from where I live, and it's a good way to get exercise." He sighed again, "Then, WHAM beach... And now here."
"We started in a forest, then the golf course, then the beach, and now here."
"Well, I can at least say I'm not in Fort Worth Texas anymore."
"Pardon?"
"That's where I'm from, and it's where that golf course was." He hummed in thought and seemed to snap to a realization , "Oh, My name is Detective Marshall Tenor by the way."
"Another detective?" Foggy said in surprise, "What is with that...I'm Foggy Nelson" He introduced the rest of us, finishing with Poirot.
"So; two lawyers, two detectives, and a Captain-walk into a bar-sorry, I just had to add that last part." We all laughed and once the laughter died down he continued, "It is rather interesting, makes me think the next person we run into is going to be a captain."
I heard a distant shout and whirled around to face the source. "What
is it Matt?" Foggy asked, voice filled with concern. "I think I heard a shout, this way!" I said, pointing in the general direction of the noise.
"Let's check it out!" Foggy said with a determined edge in his voice. So we hurried in toward, what soon became clear, a man's cries for help.
We crested a hill and the person in question became clear.
A man of average height and above average build clung to the top of a tree, at the base there was a..wolf or a wild dog, I couldn't tell which.
"Thomas!" Marshall called out with panic rising in his voice, the man in the tree yelled back, "Marshall, oh thank goodness, help me!"
"Hastings, your revolver, use it to fire a warning shot!"
Hastings had a revolver on him-this whole time?!
A shot rang through the air, and the wolf scampered away, allowing Thomas to climb down the tree.
"Thanks...where are we Marshall, and who are they?"
"I don't know where we are. I just know that these guys are lost too. This is Monsieur Hercule Poirot, he's a detective too and his associate, Captain Arthur Hastings. Lawyers, Matthew Murdock and Foggy Nelson..."
He pointed at each of us as he listed off our names, then he pointed to Thomas, "Everybody, this is my best friend; Dr. Thomas Holt, Ph.D."
"Just call me Thomas, no need for the Doctor."
"So now; two lawyers, two detectives, a Captain, and a Doctor walk into a bar..." I joked warmly.
"Actually," Foggy said pondering, "If you think about it, you're not just a lawyer Matt. Your 'extra-curricular' activity could be considered detective work."
"Huh, you're right. So that's three detectives and the detectives' best friends?"
"Three sidekicks, I suppose." Thomas pondered, "A Doctor, a Lawyer and a Captain..."
"The phrase 'Walked into a bar' comes to mind, Gee, I wonder why..." Foggy said, voice brimming with amusement. We all managed to crack smiles at that.
"That joke is totally a group thing now." Marshall said with a wide grin, "At least until we all start cracking lawyer or detective jokes."
"There are such things as detective jokes?" Foggy shot back incredulously. Marshall let loose a few more laughs before calming down.
"So," Hastings ventured curiously, "What is the plan here? Do you have any thoughts Poirot?"
"I think we should try to figure out where we are mon ami, but there isn't much use if we keep waking up in a strange place with no real warning."
"Foggy is the closest thing we've got to an early warning when it comes to the spontaneous transportations we've been experiencing," I said as Foggy blanched under the groups sudden scrutiny, "He's sensed something weird before every shift thus far."
"Great, now I'm going to mess up and make a fool out of myself." Foggy said rolling his eyes sarcastically.
"You mean that queasy indigestion-like gut churning? I had a feeling like that before I woke up here." Thomas said cringing, "It was most unpleasant."
"Yeah, it feels a lot like that." Foggy confirmed, "It's very similar to a feeling of dread."
"Like right now?" Thomas and Foggy winced in discomfort.
Now where were we?
Short grass again, familiar smells... The golf course?
"It's the golf course again, the same place Murdock and I were when we woke here the first time!" Hastings confirmed my suspicions, "That is peculiar..."
"This is the golf course I was at when I started this Twilight Zone-esque trip!"
"Collecting errant golfballs again?" Thomas asked teasingly.
"It's good exercise." Marshall shot back with mock indignation.
"I was in my home office, straightening out my workspace."
"So, should we try to contact the local law enforcement?" I hazarded, Foggy huffed out an exhausted breath. "And tell them what exactly? 'Hello there, we're hurtling though space and time against our will, and we don't know why'. Yeah, that's going to go over well..."
"Foggy's got a point. However, I'd very much like help 'getting off this ride' if you catch my meaning." Marshall huffed in annoyance.
"'Stop the worlds spinning, I'd like to get off?' Yeah." Thomas cracked back almost instantly, earning some smiles, and a light chuckle from Foggy.
In the distance, I heard a slightly agitated voice. Just how many people were going to be sucked into this before the problem got sorted?
"I think I heard someone." I said as I turned to Foggy, "Sounds as if it came from over there." I waived my hand roughly in the voice's direction. "Another poor unfortunate soul I'd wager."
"I was thinking something along the same lines."
Our group advanced towards where I had heard the voice. Marshall and Thomas at the fore, with Foggy and I following closely behind. Poirot and Hastings brought up the rear.
"Oi, who are you and where am I?!" A man of average height, with a thick accent demanded sharply upon spotting us.
"Japp?" Poirot and Hastings gasped in unison.
"Poirot, Hastings!" The man sounded greatly relieved, "You wouldn't happen to know how I got here, would you?"
"I am afraid not Chief Inspector," Poirot said while he gestured to the group, "None of us know how we got here."
"Or how long we get to stay for that matter..." Foggy murmured under his breath, I suspect only I heard him.
"Oi, this isn't looking good."
"Join the club, we have a great affinity to walking into bars..."
"Wot?"
"We'll explain later..."
-
Introductions and explanations passed by fairly easily.
(AN: Story getting too convoluted)