Trinity

Trinity :- Chapter 3 :- The Birth Of The GhostTalker

Chapter 3 :- The Birth of The GhostTalker

RECAP :- I am the precursor of destiny. Tonight I have subliminally orchestrated the murder of a man with a dark past using prewritten scraps of paper. And in fulfilling their revenge on their father's killer, two brothers have fulfilled their own destinies. One must die. One must become The GhostTalker.

The full moon is serene.

It's glow is skeletally white.

With the slightest movement of my hands Travis turns the car left, and soon right, until we are back at the place we left the Murcielago.

I am thankful that he can understand me so well, attuned as he is to my sleight of hand, my prolific writings, my ambiguous grins which speak far more effectively than mere words.

He is thinking about this, believing me to be God incarnate; intrigued yet again by my self imposed restrictions on vocal communication.

And yet he understands why.

For he too, is afflicted with a power that curses him to a life of abject misery.

Omnipotence.

For a human to possess such limitless powers is a death sentence for those who love him. For those whom he loves.

He has already learned this fact, and it has made him what he is today.

Fearful of friendship.

Devil may care attitude.

And yet so eager to serve at my beckoning.

And as we pull into the carpark and stop, I have ready for him another prewritten scrap of paper.

He does not need light to read it, for a man with his abilities can easily read even on the darkest of nights.

*On the other side of the car park is the person whom we stole this car from.....*

Kemal, whose car we now possess, is lamenting the loss of his hire vehicle on his mobile phone, only metres away from where we are. He is talking to his friend Daniel who is 240km north in the town of Port Hedland, and Kemal's animated movements and frantic speech are drawing far too much attention from the patrons who move to and from the Geckoes Nightclub.

He is mostly angered, however, about losing Daniel's two ounces of dope, which is in the glove box before me.

"So let me get this straight...." Daniel says in a tone of patient fury. "You took off with one of your dad's hire cars from his hire car business to buy me $600 worth of dope. And now your stuck in Karratha, without my money, without my dope, and your dad's stolen hire car.....has been stolen by someone else?"

Kemal is almost in tears, choking an affirmative reply.

But he needn't worry, for as Travis reads he is becoming aware that we are about to return the dope to him. And, to Travis's chagrin, throw out the keys to the Murcielago with it.

But its what I wrote next that has raised Travis's interest, and he understands now why we have no more use for the Lamborghini.

*...... then we will head out of town. When we come across the accident, you will take out the survivor from the red Holden ute and bring him to this car. Then we drive north.*

Yes Travis. The red Holden ute from the fuel station.

With the murder of the fugitive Richard Gamblin, the Rossteau brothers have themselves become fugitives on the run.

As I ponder this they are driving past their motel room and headed out of town. And I can presently see their ute speeding off into the distance on the main road leading out beyond the town's limits.

From one murderous tragedy twenty years ago, to another cold blooded murder tonight. And soon the tragic death of a brother, and for the other brother, a tragic new ability to curse his existence.

Travis has finished reading the immediate future and grimly hands back the torn scrap. He did not see the ute tear down the highway towards its destiny, but is aware of what will happen next and has accepted his mission.

And as we drive up to Kemal, I discard the torn paper to the backseat and open the glove box, allowing the potent aroma of marijuana to permate the air. I knew the smell would be an unwelcome infringement upon my nostrils, and was ready for this. But still the actuality of it was overpowering, and made me cringe with displeasure.

Handing it over to Travis, he throws the dope out, and aims the key right at Kemal's head.

"Missing something?" Travis couldn't help himself of course, the jibe working it's effect beautifully upon the gobsmacked drug dealer.

Kemal has just realised we are in his hire car and as we drive away he rushes for the door. But he is too slow.

Too drunk, and too stoned.

He can only yell a string of abuses and meaningless threats as we disappear into the night. "Your not gonna believe this," he says to his friend in Port Hedland. "But the retards who stole my car just threw the two ounces at me and took off!"

Daniel is shaking his head in disbelief at the circumstances. "So you got my dope back have you?"

"Yes, but they have taken off again with my car! And I have no way of getting home......"

Daniel sighs in disgust as he holds back his simmering resentment at Kemal's stupidity. "You better be there waiting.... Or I swear......" And with that Daniel hangs up, unable to comprehend the ridiculousness of it all.

As we roll out onto an arterial road hazy visions rush through my mind. Over there was the old pastoral station that gave Karratha its name. An Aboriginal term loosely meaning 'good country'. Along these foothills once meandered a track to Cossack 40km away, and there is a ghostly image of an old pioneer 135 years ago running, fatally speared, now falling to the ground, wondering if he will ever be remembered by anyone.

If only he knew.

Nevertheless, I am focused back onto the present. Thierry is crying as he holds in his hands my scraps of paper. Telling his brother that it was these papers that made him kill Richard.

"I don't understand," Tuomas replies. "You're making no sense...."

As Tuomas ensures he is not exceeding the speed limit, Thierry throws the crumpled scraps into his brothers lap. "Here, you read them!"

Tuomas is pleading for his brother to calm down. "I will read them after we stop. Just calm down, OK. We will have plenty of time to freak out later, when we are free."

As Tuomas takes the crumpled ball of scrap paper in his hands he asks what it says.

It is what Thierry says now that will bring fate to pass. "His name was Richard Gamblin. Twenty years ago he killed dad....."

The unanticipated answer to a question that had plagued him all his life has made Tuomas react with total shock. He wasn't expecting that. And one by one the consequences interlock.

He doesn't see his ute drifting across into the other lane.

Into the path of an oncoming car.

Car horn blaring.

Blinding oncoming headlights.

Screeching tyres.

A horrified realisation.

The crunch of impact.

Darkness.

Humans.

So predictable.

So tragically predictable.