This is just the first draft of a story that might never be written. If you do think that at some point I should continue, please review, because I really don't know :D x
Being notorious for not caring doesn't mean I don't care. It just means I'm capable of being practical, rather then getting so hung up one emotions.
So, these are the facts:
Nick Cutter is dead.
Stephen Hart is dead.
Abby Maitland, Connor Temple and Danny Quinn are stuck somewhere in time, with the possibility but not the probability of getting back.
Jennifer Lewis has quit.
Helen Cutter… I'm not sure about Helen. Where she is. Whether they stopped her. Whether she's killed my friends, or been eaten by a creature.
This is a fact: I am on my own. The ARC operation will be pretty much entirely closed down, now one of Connor's techie friends has worked out a way of sealing the anomalies automatically, the minute they open. Nobody has the genius of the original 'team', not enough to want to study these happenings and find out why they're happening, what's changed and what will happen next.
Nobody cares enough to want to spend time, and money, and people on what is no longer a problem. Of course not; it makes no sense. Nobody could be that ridiculous.
Except me. I owe it to everyone who's died, who's been lost and who's been killed. I may have disliked Nick Cutter but some of his spirit seems to infected me. No longer the sarcastic government pen pusher that I was, I find myself planning to go directly against the Ministers wishes in order to avenge my friends. To find out what they all dreamt of finding out, to investigate the anomalies. I've taken some kit. It'll be dangerous, and not only because I'm risking my career and everything I've worked for, but because I'll be putting myself in danger and risking my life.
Either I've gone mad, or someone's spiked my drink.