"I am so sorry about James, Josie," said Sheriff Fowler, as he explained to Josie and Jamie what had happened. According to the Greenham Wing Commander and his staff, who were all currently being questioned down at the station, Major McEwen's chopper had taken off from Greenham on schedule, following the Cessna's original flight path over New Forest, in hopes of pinpointing the location where Johnson's plane had gone down. Who would have guessed that the moment they had reached the coordinates of the Cessna's last known location, the chopper would vanish into thin air as well?

Just like before, no wreckage had been found, and no mayday had been sent prior to the moment of disappearance. With no further leads on the Cessna, and with Major McEwen's chopper now having disappeared as well, the eight people missing had all been given up for lost.

"The Air Force has already notified the families of Harrison, Stacey, and Smith," explained Fowler, "But I thought it best if I came and told you in person, being a friend of James and all... I'm so sorry." Josie looked up at Fowler with tearful eyes.

"Thanks, Jim. I really appreciate it…"

"Don't despair yet, Josie," said Fowler, patting her on the shoulder in reassurance, "Although the authorities have suspended all aerial searches over the dead zone, we'll be continuing with our satellite sweeps until we do find something. You know how competent a flyer James is; he might have set the chopper down somewhere, and waiting for rescue. If he's still alive, we'll find him. I promise."

"What about Alan Johnson? Has anyone notified his friends or relatives?" asked Josie, unable to resist inquiring about her old friend. Fowler felt rather perplexed at Josie's question; what did she care about a complete stranger – one who might have been a psychopathic murderer nonetheless - when he had just told her that her husband was missing and probably dead? However, he refrained from inquiring.

"We contacted Johnson's in-laws, but they've have bluntly refused to take care of the funeral arrangements – a grudge they hold for the death of their daughter last year, I suspect –, so that tycoon on the council, Mr Buxton has taken over the arrangements instead. The Mayor wants this business covered up as soon as possible before it bruises the good image of our district... His funeral will be held here in the local churchyard, the day after tomorrow."

"There will be a funeral for Alan?" Josie asked. Although she hated hearing that this Buxton, whom she knew had great influence on the local Council, taking over her former lover's funeral arrangements, because his own in-laws had turned their backs on him just like everyone else, she felt grateful that at least Alan would be laid to rest with decency, even out of a stranger's pocket. This would also be her chance to say a last goodbye, to close the book on her past once and for all.

There was nothing much more to be said. Fowler offered his condolences one last time and left to return to the station, to see how the ground searches were getting along, leaving a distraught Josie and Jamie to come to terms with the fact that their lives would now be very different…

In spite of a thorough search of New Forest via satellite, no trace of the chopper was found, and James McEwen and his crew were soon also declared dead. And so it was the very next day following the chopper's disappearance that a solicitor, accompanied by James' father, Mike, arrived for the reading of the will.

"There are no leans or claims on your joint assets, Mrs McEwen," said the solicitor, "As his surviving spouse, he has named you sole executive of his entire estate, which are to pass on to his next of kin, your son, following your own passing. Also, there are the benefits of his insurance." He passed her a briefcase filled with dozens of carefully wrapped bundles of banknotes.

"A total of £25,000, plus another £5,000 worth of personal savings, which have already been transferred to your account." Josie stared blankly down at the money - this was all that was left of her husband, aside from their house and their son, "Would you like to count it?"

"Eh... No, thank you, I am sure it's all there," she muttered, holding back tears; the last thing she wanted was to start counting the money which the state was literally giving her as a substitute for her husband. The solicitor nodded and handed her James' certificate of death for witnessing, which she signed with a trembling hand. Once the last of the paperwork was finished, the solicitor offered his condolences and departed. Mike paused for a moment to reassure his daughter-in-law and grandson that if they needed anything, not to hesitate to call him at any time, before leaving to take care of the funeral arrangements. With the last of James' affairs in order, the only thing left was to bury him…without his body.

On the second day following the accident, James' funeral was held. Josie and Jamie attended, along with Mike, James' Wing Commander, and several close friends. Although a fine funeral, with the deceased being laid to rest with all the decency in his family's power, it was nothing short of a painful occasion for the McEwens. An empty coffin was buried beneath the marble headstone bearing the name of James Quinton McEwen, a war veteran and devoted family man, born in 1974 and died in 2012, aged 38.

On the way home, Josie made a detour at the local churchyard, where another, double funeral was being held for the unwanted Alan Johnson and Derek Shaw. As for their pilot, Julio Andre, his family had made arrangements for his funeral to be held in his hometown back in Spain, as per his last wishes. Coincidently, there was another, unrelated funeral also being held - that of a Mr Russell Robbins, who had supposedly died in a car accident a few days ago, when his car had exploded after hitting a loaded fuel tanker following a skid on a curve.

In direct contrast to James' funeral, only a handful of mourners had come to pay their last respects to Johnson and Shaw. Josie recognised a few familiar faces from the old days as she joined the small crowd attending the ceremony: Father Herbert Campbell, the former head of the orphanage she had grown up in with Alan and Derek, Emily Hanson, Alan's housekeeper, and Hotdog Johnny Boone, Alan and Derek's petty criminal friend and last surviving member of their original gang. Josie noticed another of their friends, Ronald Fields, was strangely absent.

Despite the sad occasion, the attendees all turned to greet her warmly. Father Herbert embraced her, also offering his condolences for her husband who had ironically perished trying to find her two former friends. Hotdog, fresh out of prison on parole, greeted her enthusiastically, however, in contrast to the comical punk she remembered from the old days, the petty criminal now looked solemn and utterly downcast, having lost his two closest friends overnight. When Josie asked him where Fields was, Hotdog told her he too was also long dead, killed in the war, and that he had severed all connections with them years ago anyway, after getting into a feud with Alan over the girl that later became his wife.

Meanwhile, Jamie had walked over to get a better look the other funeral held nearby. There were only two attendees for this Mr Robbins; Joseph Buxton, the bloke who was also paying for Johnson's funeral, was attending, accompanied by none other than Tom Shelton. Jamie frowned in suspicion; what business did he have with this Robbins guy, and, come to think of it, what business did Buxton have, paying for all these funerals? Could this have something to do with what happened to Johnson and his father?

Jamie was just about to build up the courage and ask, when the two men, seeing him watching them, turned and walked away; he watched them as they walked up to a secluded spot by the gate, where Buxton shook Shelton's hand in, what appeared to be, congratulations, before they set off down the road together, looking surprisingly cheerful for two people who had just attended a funeral. Jamie was tempted to try and follow them, to eavesdrop on them, when he heard his mother calling him. They returned home.

Later that evening, with Jamie having retreated to his room without a word, Josie was busy tending to some household chores, desperate for something to take her mind off her sorrows. But no matter how hard she tried, the thought of her husband and the feeling of emptiness his demise caused her - as well as the thought of Alan -, was making her feel utterly miserable. Although, fortunately, she had a good job with a decent income to support them both, as well her husband's insurance, which she would use to pay for her son to go to collage in later years, the impact of her husband's passing would take a long time to overcome. And what kind of impact would this tragedy have on her son?

Kenny had dropped by to offer his own condolences, and offered to stay with the family for the upcoming New Year's Eve. Josie received him warmly as always, and Jamie, although still rather moody and depressed, also welcomed his friend. They ended up spending the whole New Year's evening together, playing games or watching films, as they waited for the countdown to midnight.

It was just past nightfall. The two boys were up in Jamie's room, surfing online on Jamie's laptop. At some point, Kenny brought up the subject they had been discussing a few days back: the mystery surrounding Ken's father and Mr Buxton.

"The day Johnson's plane disappeared, Dad came home happier than I've seen him in a long time; he said something about Buxton would soon by paying him a large sum as part of some business deal he had made with him. He wouldn't say what he was paying him for, and when I tried asking him, he warned me to keep my nose out of his business, the rotter…"

"I saw your father today, Ken," interrupted Jamie, remembering what he had seen at Johnson's funeral, "He was at that guy Johnson's funeral with that old crackpot Buxton. They were burying someone too, a guy called Robbins, I think…"

"Robbins? As in Russell Robbins?" asked Ken, recognising a familiar name, "Why, that's the name of one of those dudes who used to meet with Buxton and my father up at the Hall. I overheard my father mention that he was also on that plane when it went down over New Forest... I wonder why his name wasn't on the news that day…? Suddenly, Jamie, influenced by Ken's words, had an epiphany. Glancing out the window, he saw the Aurora, which had been lighting up the night sky for the past few days, had appeared again on the southwestern horizon, over New Forest. Could it be...?

"Ken," he asked, "Do you know where Johnson's plane and Dad's chopper were last seen before they disappeared?" Kenny scratched his head, thinking.

"Well, I remember my father telling the Sheriff that it was somewhere just beyond the edge of the dead zone, I think… Why...?" Suddenly, it all clicked together in Jamie's mind: the Aurora over New Forest, and the plane and the chopper vanishing when flying into it... It all pointed to one logical explanation: the Aurora was the key to all these disappearances! Quickly coming up with a plan, he turned to his friend, "Are you up for a little night adventure?"

"What kind of question is that?" asked Ken, rolling his eyes, "How about we go into town and sneak into the movie house for a free film as a New Year's treat? Or maybe shoplift Jerry's sweetshop? We haven't pulled that in a while…" But Jamie had different, far more reckless plans in mind.

"No, let's go and see your father. There is something I want to ask of him…"

Kenny thought his friend had taken leave of his senses, "Go and see my father? What the hell for? Have you gone daft, mate? He'd sooner kick you out for disturbing him, than talk to you about anything. Hell, I had to leave the house this afternoon when he came home with a raging temper! Something about Buxton being hospitalised and not paying him first… He's probably so doped up with booze by now, he won't understand a word you tell him anyway…" But Jamie was far from swayed.

"Good, that will make it easier for me to convince him to let me charter the glider for a night flight." Finally realising what his friend had in mind, Kenny stood up, intent on driving this madness out of his friend's head before he did something he'd regret.

"You aren't seriously thinking of going in search of your Dad, are you? That's suicide! What, do you want your mother to bury you next?"

"We don't know if it's suicide," persisted Jamie stubbornly, "They haven't found them, have they? For all we know, they might be stranded out in the Dead Zone somewhere…" Kenny was furious.

"And how exactly do you propose to persuade my father to let you use his prized glider illegally and in the middle of the night?" he asked angrily, "He may not care that much about the law, but if it means putting his neck on the line, as yours will be when your mother finds out, not to mention risk losing the only plane he has left to run the club with, he'll never lend it to you, not in a million years…"

"Not if I pay him," Jamie said, coming up with the perfect idea to coax the greedy flight controller into lending him the glider, so he could go and inspect the Aurora up close, "My father's insurance money should do the trick…"

"You're one meal short of a picnic, mate!" snapped Kenny incredulously, shaking his head, "Your mother will kill you when she finds out you decided to bribe my Dad with your father's money for a suicide flight!"

"Then you can always steal it back for me," Jamie said absent-mindedly, rehearsing his plan. It was perfect; he would use his father's insurance money to bribe Shelton for a solo flight on the glider, so he could go up and inspect the Aurora. With Ken's father in such a desperate need of money, Jamie felt sure he could be easily persuaded. As far as he was concerned, this money was worthless to him; he just wanted his father back. Since the authorities had given up the search, it was now up to him.

Who dares wins, he thought, remembering his father's old motto from the SAS, Nothing ventured, nothing gained.

After managing to persuade the reluctant Ken to go along with the plan, the two boys crept downstairs. Josie had gone to bed early, feeling too depressed about her husband to care about greeting the upcoming New Year; a box of sleeping pills and a half-empty glass of water sat on the kitchen table, which told Jamie they had the night all to themselves. And lying undisturbed on the sofa in the lounge was the briefcase of money, which his mother had been too upset to take to the bank.

Donning a winter jacket over his jeans and jumper, Jamie took the briefcase, as well as pocketed his father's birthday gifts, which he always carried around with him ever since the accident, he and Ken crept out the front door, locking it behind them using a spare key Jamie had nicked from its hiding place in the kitchen. There wasn't a single soul in sight; everyone was partying down in the town square, a good quarter of a mile away, and wouldn't disturb them.

As they crossed the yard, they were suddenly startled by some loud barking coming from the doghouse; they had completely forgotten about Snitter who was wide-awake and protesting at his young master's departure. Although it hardly mattered, given that his mother was on sedatives and couldn't hear the barking, he knew that the neighbours were bound to quickly start getting annoyed from all this racket, and might send someone over to check things out. And the last thing he needed was for his plan to be ruined before he even got started. Motioning to Ken to keep watch, in case someone came along, he crept back to the house, entering via the back door through the greenhouse infirmary. Snitter was waiting for him, waging his tail happily, thinking they were going for a walk. Fitting on his lead, he rejoined Ken outside and they set off down the road.

The rickety Shelton residence was only around the corner of the street, and five minutes later, they stood on Tom Shelton's dark porch. Motioning to Ken to wait outside with Snitter, Jamie rang the doorbell. Soon, the door swung open revealing the bloodshot-eyed face of Tom Shelton, who stunk like a brewery; no doubt he had hit the bottle again to cool off his temper. And, currently, he wasn't particularly happy to have a visitor come calling.

"What do you mean by calling here at this hour?" he snapped, "If my good-for-nothing son has been up to any mischief again, I'll skin him…!" Ignoring Shelton's grumbling, Jamie explained.

"Sorry to disturb you, sir, but I have a financial proposition for you…" As he had expected, at the very mention of money, Shelton's rage instantly evaporated, "Come again?" Jamie showed him the briefcase containing his father's money, "Oh, well in that case, come in!"

Leading Jamie into the kitchen, which was piled high with unwashed dishes and empty beer cans, he took a seat and turned to Jamie, "Now then, you were saying?" Jamie opened the briefcase, revealing the small fortune within. He watched Shelton's bloodshot eyes shine with greed, his jaw dropping level with the table. Whatever deal this boy wanted to make with him, he'd agree in a heartbeat, if it meant getting a piece of that pie, to make up for Sergey's lost money.

"I wish to charter your glider for a little looksee at the Aurora…tonight. Name your price." Tom didn't look at him; he continued to stare dumbstruck at all that beautiful money, as if in a trance. Finally, he found his voice again.

"Here's the deal: You give me this money and the glider is all yours forever!" Whether it was the alcohol talking or just Tom's desperate thirst for money, Jamie didn't know, nor did he care, as he considered the offer. At best, he had hoped to coax Ken's father into letting him fly the glider just for tonight and keep quiet about it; instead, the flight controller was offering to sell it to him in exchange for his father's money. At this point, he could either accept or decline; and if he accepted, there would be no turning back. He would be stuck with the glider of his dreams, but at the expense of his father's life insurance, which could never go unnoticed by his mother…

Dad would have wanted me to have this glider anyway, he thought, remembering his father's promise to buy him that very same glider for his 17th birthday. Turning back to Shelton, with a deep sigh, he said, "Fine, I accept." Without waiting for Jamie to change his mind, Shelton hurried upstairs and returned with a set of keys, which were for the flight club hanger where the glider was stored.

"Have fun, kid! And if you see Ken, tell him he is free of chores for the rest of the holidays! Good night and thanks a million!" Without another word, he grabbed the briefcase as if it were his firstborn child and bolted upstairs, laughing like a maniac, leaving Jamie alone in the kitchen. Taking the keys, he rejoined Ken outside.

"It's my glider now, Ken," he said, showing him the key, "Let's go!" With Ken muttering how Jamie's mother would kill them both when she found out about this tomorrow, the two friends hurried along the snowed-up lane through the fields, taking a shortcut to the flight club, avoiding all traffic. They found the premises dark and deserted; the perfect conditions for an illegal flight, without any fear of being discovered.

Making their way over to the hanger, they unlocked the padlock on the doors and found the glider standing inside beneath its nylon covers, looking good as new. Jamie could feel his heart pounding in excitement; the time had come for him to do or die – with a strong probability on the latter.

They pushed the glider outside and moved it onto the edge of the runway. Jamie opened the plexiglass canopy which shielded the two pilot seats, one behind the other, like in a canoe, each fitted with its own control stick and instrument panel. The battery-powered motor was mounted on a retractable mast fitted in the tail shaft. A parachute pack lay on each seat, for an emergency bailout. All was ready.

Jamie climbed in and seated himself in the forward seat, securing his parachute and seatbelt, just as his father had taught him. Ken was about to hop into the back but Jamie stopped him, "I'm going alone. This way, if something happens to me, you can tell my mother what I did…" Kenny, as he expected, wasn't the least keen to oblige.

"Like hell I will! We're in this together! And I don't want to have to be the one explaining to your mother that I let you talk me into helping you get yourself killed! She'll never forgive me…!"

"This is something I have to do, Ken," Jamie insisted, his mind made up, "You aren't a part of this, so nobody can hold it against you. Besides, I need someone here to guide me over the radio." Ken groaned in exasperation, and finally shook his friend's hand, wishing him luck – or rather bidding him farewell, figuring he would most likely be dead very soon.

"Take care, mate. You bring yourself back alive or I'll kill you myself!" Jamie couldn't suppress a snort of amusement as his friend turned and hurried to the control shack to power up the radio and radar. Jamie shut the canopy securely, preparing for take-off.

Taking a deep breath to calm his nerves, which were close to breaking point with the insanity of what he was about to do, he started his pre-flight check. Turning on the master switch, the panel lights instantly sprang to life, the instruments displaying normal readings. The power level gauge read the batteries as fully charged. He was good to go. Switching on the GPS and radio, he tested communications, "Ken, do you read me, over?" After a few seconds, he heard his friend's voice on the other end.

"Loud and clear, mate; we have a link-up. I am lighting up the runway lights now." Seeing the lights on the runway come to life, Jamie cranked up the motor mast and hit the starter switch, starting up the glider's engine; he heard the prop start spinning at a fast and steady pace above his head. Taking a deep breath, he grasped the brake release lever, preparing to release. Here we go…

Releasing the parking brakes, he felt the glider start to move forward, gathering speed as it went. Jamie grasped the stick firmly, feeling nervous; this was the first time he was piloting the glider solo and wasn't sure how well he could manage with only a dozen or so lessons. Before he could change his mind and abort the take-off however, the glider had left the ground, soaring up into the sky.

Jamie cringed as he struggled to keep the glider under control, his father's instructions sharp in his mind. Although the glider seemed to be performing well, this was still his first solo flight, and in the dark of night nonetheless, making him prone to a panic attack. Struggling to banish the fearful thoughts of what might happen if he got something wrong, he spoke into his radio, "All right, Ken, give me a heading."

On the ground, Ken, who was watching the radar screen, which was tracking the glider's transponder signal on the digital map, gave him directions, "Okay mate, you're now heading north; turn round to heading 260 and line up with the Aurora."

Griping the stick firmly, Jamie carefully turned the aircraft around on a southwesterly course, heading towards New Forest, where the Aurora was. Suddenly, he was startled by something wet nuzzling him in the neck; he had forgotten all about Snitter, who had stowed away onto the glider by jumping onto the empty back seat, while the two boys had been arguing. Although feeling rather reproachful towards his dog for following him up here, consequently adding more unnecessary weight to the glider, it still was of some comfort to Jamie to have a familiar face up here with him, as he patted his canine friend on the head.

Gently pulling back on the control stick, he set course for the Aurora in the distance. Time seemed to slow down with every passing minute, as he felt himself start to sweat with anticipation. What would happen when he flew into the Aurora? What was on the other side of it? Maybe it would instantly vaporize him and his glider?

As he flew along, he slowly became more comfortable with handling the glider on his own. The experience could only be described as wonderful; a sense of freedom overcame him, just like his father had told him it was like on his first flight.

Soon, he was only a few hundred yards away from the Aurora. Up this close, he could now see it was amazingly low in the sky, much like a curtain of transparent, rainbow-coloured ribbons floating in mid-air, seemingly harmless. Fascinated by the sight, he spoke into his radio again, "Ken, I am going to fly right through that thing and see what happens. Make sure you keep tracking me all the time…"

"Dude, I am telling you that's a stupid idea! Turn that thing around while you still can, and come back! And I think Snitter might be up there with you…" But Jamie had removed his headset, tired of listening to more of his friend's pleas; he had come too far to turn back now.

Gripping the stick firmly, he adjusted his course, so that he was facing directly towards the heart of the Aurora. Punching the throttle to full power, he flew straight into those magnificent, transparent ribbons of rainbow light. At first, nothing happened, making him think he might have been wrong after all, and it had all been for nothing…

As he turned to check his heading again, he noticed his compass was spinning like a top; all the instruments on the panel had suddenly gone wild. Jamie grew tense, I was right; there is something going on up here… Hurryingly, he put his headset back on, "Ken, something's happening; my instruments are all dancing. I think it might be the Aurora… Ken? Ken, can you still hear me? Ken!" His radio had also gone dead; even the motor had stopped, as if drained of its power. But nothing could have prepared him for what followed next.

Looking out the canopy, he saw the sky start to move; the moon and the stars were spinning through their quarters; it was like watching time in speed mode on a computer simulator or in a science-fiction film, only this was very real. Jamie watched in amazement as the sun rose on the eastern horizon, completing its arc in mere seconds before setting again in the west. The process continued repeating itself over and over again, going faster and faster, until the sky became a blinking twilight. The glider was swallowed into a deep vortex as the Aurora engulfed him. Violent turbulence shook the glider, nearly breaking up the fuselage, as he was sucked down into an endless void… And then it was over, as quickly as it had started; the glider was spat out on the far side of the Aurora…where?

A dazed and shaken Jamie looked around him; he was still airborne, both he and his dog were unharmed, and the glider appeared undamaged. His instruments were all up and running again; only his radio remained dead, as well as the GPS clipped to his control panel, which had gone blank, giving him a satellite uplink failure warning. Then, he realised, to his utmost bewilderment, it was no longer night but day. What had happened? Where had the Aurora brought him?

The afternoon sky was bright, with a few scattered clouds. He could see the ground some 8,000ft below, but something was very wrong. Everything had…changed. Where there should have been a radioactive dead zone, overrun by snow, now there was an endless stretch of thick, unattended woodland, resembling a jungle. This wasn't New Forest! Trying to reassure Snitter, which had gone wild from the ride, Jamie couldn't help but wonder, "Is this what happened to Dad…?"

Meanwhile, back at the flight club, Ken was seated at the control station normally occupied by Stan Hallows, handling the radio and radar best he could, all the while muttering how stupid it was what he and his friend were doing, and the consequences that were bound to come of it when their parents found out.

Suddenly, as he watched Jamie's signal move across the blank patch of static on radar screen, which was the Aurora, it began to flicker as if the glider's beacon signal wasn't being transmitted properly any more. Something was interfering. Then he heard his friend's voice, confirming he was having the same trouble, "Ken, something is happening; my instruments are all dancing. I think it might be the Aurora…" Then the voice died away and there was only static.

Ken froze in terror. No, this couldn't have happened! Not Jamie! Springing up from his chair, he grabbed the microphone, bellowing, "Jamie, get the hell out of there now! Jamie, can you hear me? Jamie, please!" But there was only silence. Ken sunk to his knees, realising the dying signal had been his friend's glider vanishing, just like it had happened with the Cessna and the Air Force chopper. At that moment, a clock on the wall struck midnight; the New Year had arrived, but Ken felt anything but in the mood for celebration.

Author's notes: Coming up next, the beginning of Jamie's adventures in the future. I remind you, this is all happening in parallel with the first story, so don't get confused! The time Jamie comes out is set four days after Alan came through in the first story. ENJOY AND PLEASE REVIEW!