Beyond Time E-Book

Miriam Albrecht

• Herausgeber: epubli
• Kategorie: Abenteuer, Thriller, Horror
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2024

Beschreibung

In a world where a select few leave time behind at the age of 29, a deadly secret unfolds. The Order, a global network of immortal individuals, lives in the shadows, bound by strict rules and iron discipline. Hannes Fischer, new to the Duisburg group, is drawn into a whirlpool of power, betrayal and forbidden desires. But as the fine lines between order and chaos begin to blur, dark secrets are revealed that threaten to shake the order's foundation. Who can Hannes trust when even the immortals are not safe from their own demons? A gripping mystery thriller about power, morality and the inevitable question: What does it mean to live forever?

Leseprobe

Title: Beyond Time

Author: Miriam Albrecht

Biography:

Miriam Albrecht was born in Heidelberg in 1987 and discovered her passion for writing at an early age. After studying literature in Berlin, she initially worked as a journalist before devoting herself to writing novels.

When she is not working on stories, Miriam Albrecht spends her time hiking in the Alps or in her favorite café, where she can always be found with a notebook and a fresh cup of espresso. She now lives in Munich.

Chapter 1: Arrival

Hannes Fischer stood on the platform of Duisburg Central Station, and the fine drizzle settled over the city like a slimy film. "Shitty weather, shitty city," he muttered, pulling the collar of his worn coat higher. His breath condensed in the cold air as it stirred up the gray surroundings. Duisburg was bleak, perfect for a new beginning.

He pulled the piece of paper out of his pocket.Rüdiger Weber, lawyer.A familiar name in the Order's circles, even if they had never met in person. Weber was one of them, for almost two centuries. He had this part of the city under control - unobtrusively but efficiently.

Hannes cursed the change inwardly. Changing his identity every five years, leaving his place of residence, leaving behind the connections he had worked so hard to build – it was nerve-wracking. But the rules were clear. No questions, no exceptions. "Don't attract attention," he thought grimly and stomped throughthe gray streets.

The office was in a run-down building on a narrow side street. The windows were covered in dirt, the sign above the door was crooked and faded. "Perfect camouflage," Hannes muttered and pushed the door open.

Inside, the air was stuffy, and the smell of old carpet cleaner mixed with the aroma of stale coffee. There were three people sitting in the waiting room: an elderly woman with piercing eyes, a nervous man with sweaty hands, and a teenager staring at his cell phone with glassy eyes.

Hannes let his gaze wander around the room. It quickly became too easy. He let his thoughts flow freely, surprised at how they reached the heads of those waiting and settled there. The woman suddenly stood up, grabbed her handbag and mumbled something about a "wrong appointment". The nervous man followed her like a beaten dog,and the teenager also left the room silently, clutching his cell phone tightly.

Hannes sat down on one of the cheap plastic chairs and stretched out his legs. "At least the shop is well shielded," he muttered. No one would notice how unusual his behavior was here.

The secretary appeared behind the counter. She was in her mid-fifties, with a thicker hairstyle and lipstick that was so bright red that it quickly seemed aggressive. Her eyes seemed strangely empty, almost mechanical.

“Coffee?” she asked monotonously.

“Sure, black,” growled Hannes, shaking the rain off his coat.

The woman nodded silently, disappeared and returned with a steaming cup, which she handed to him without saying a word. Then she sat back down in her seat and stared into space.

Hannes sipped the coffee. "Shit, way too bitter," he muttered and put the cup on the small table next to him.

The door to the office opens. A man steps out, dressed in a perfectly tailored suit. He was tall, slim, and had the bearing of a man who dominated any room he entered. His face was flawless, with piercing blue eyes made even colder by narrow, rimless glasses. Despite his youthful appearance, he exuded an experience that must have been decades or centuries old.

"Mr. Fischer, I accept?" asked the man. His voice was calm, quick and casual, but there was an underlying tone of authority in it.

Hannes stood up, straightened his coat and nodded. "That's me. You must be a weaver."

Weber smiled thinly. “Come in.”

Hannes followed him into the office. The room was spacious, the walls lined with shelves full of legal textbooks. The massive desk made of dark wood dominated the middle of the room, and the cold afternoon light fell through the large window front.

“Sit down,” said Weber, as he stood behindtook up space on his desk.

Hannes sank into his chair, took a quick look out the window and then at Weber. "So how's the shit going here?" I'm the new guy, so spare us the formalities."

Weber gathered him together briefly, then leaned back. "Duisburg is quiet. No significant incidents in recent years. And we'll make sure it stays that way. If you follow the rules, there won't be any problems."

"Oh, the rules!" Hannes raised his hands mockingly.

"No forced sex, no driving the poor into ruin, no politics." I've heard it all since I memorized the damn rule book. So come on, what's the catch?"

Weber opened a drawer, took out a small envelope and pushed it across the table. "No catches. You go to the harbor, quay 14. They'll be waiting for you there. The key in the envelope is yours."

Hannes took the envelope, held it in his hand for a moment and then put it in thecoat pocket. "That's it? No welcoming speech, no whiskey to celebrate?"

Weber smiled thinly. "We're not in a club here, Fischer. Welcome to Duisburg. Follow the rules and you'll find that the city is as unremarkable as it looks."

Hannes stood up, pulled his coat tighter and gave Weber one last look. "I'll follow the rules as long as no one breaks them against me."

Weber nodded, his face expressionless. "Then we'll get along well."

Outside, Hannes was once again met with the cold wind. He pulled out the envelope, ripped it open and pulled out the key, which had a small plaque on it. On it was written in scrawled handwriting:Kai 14

“Well then, off to the adventure,” he muttered sarcastically and set off. Every step felt heavy, although it was not the tiredness of his body. It was the weight ofdecades, of identities that he had to leave behind again and again.

The harbor lay before him, dark and deserted. Fog crept over the water and the creaking of metal echoed through the night. Hannes stopped for a moment, closed his eyes and took a deep breath.New place. Same damn shit.

Chapter 2: The Motorhome

The morning was still young when a large, luxurious motorhome pulled up in front of the bank branch on a quiet side street. The shiny metallic body seemed out of place among the gray facades and the faded asphalt. The engine hummed quietly and behind the tinted windows sat a man with a grim look. He had a striking face, marked by small scars that ran like fine cracks across his cheeks.

“Hurry up,” he muttered, drumming his fingers impatiently on the steering wheel.

Inside, behind the bank's thick glass front, a young woman with long, dark hair was packing all the banknotes from her till into her large handbag. Her face was mask-like - no trace of nervousness, no emotion. She moved with calm, mechanical precision, as if she were performing an everyday ritual.

She stepped out through the sliding doors and walked straight to the motorhome. The handbag seemedheavy, but she carried it effortlessly. When she got in, she closed the door behind her, gave the driver a friendly look and said in a soft voice: "Here you go." She handed him the bag.

The man took it, opened it briefly and roughly counted the bills. "Not bad," he said, a small grin playing around his lips. He closed the bag again, threw it behind him into a small niche and stepped on the gas pedal.

The RV drove through the streets until it reached a deserted parking lot surrounded by trees and bushes. The engine stopped and the man leaned back.

The woman took one last look in the small mirror, then slowly unbuttoned and took off her blouse. Underneath she wore a simple bra that accentuated her flawless skin. She smiled at the man who was now looking at her with an expression of raw desire.

“Passing the time?” she asked with a wink,as she took off her shoes and moved toward him.

"You know what I like," he answered hoarsely, pulling her onto his lap and burying his face in her neck.

The two of them let themselves go without restraint, their movements becoming faster and more impetuous until they finally collapsed, exhausted. He smoked a cigarette while she slowly got dressed again.

“Is everything done?” she finally asked, tying her hair back.

“Almost,” he said, throwing her a small lighter.

She caught it, looked at it briefly and smiled. Without another word, she got out of the RV.

At the petrol station, which they reached a few minutes later, the woman filled the tank of thevehicle with gasoline. But she didn't stop when the tank was full - she pulled the lever, letting the gasoline run over her legs, her clothes and the ground.

With shaking hands, she opened her purse, pulled out a small canister, and poured the rest of the gasoline over her body. Her eyes looked empty, almost peaceful, when she finally took out the lighter.

A spark, a click – and within seconds it was ablaze.

"Shit," shouted a passerby from across the street as the woman began to scream, but her voice was quickly drowned out by the roaring flames.

The motorhome had long since disappeared before the fire department and police arrived.

Chapter 3: The Old Cargo Ship

Hannes stood at quay 14, the key in his hand. In front of him lay an old barge, rusty and leaning in the water. It was hard to believe that this wreck could still float.

An old man approached him, his steps slow but his eyes alert. "This is yours," he said with a broad smile and pointed to the ship.

"Nice," Hannes murmured, casting a careful glance at the boat. "Is the thing still holding together?"

“Holds better than it looks,” the man replied as he handed Hannes the key.

Hannes nodded, pulled a thick wad of banknotes out of his pocket and pressed it into the old man's hand. The man looked at the money, nodded in satisfaction and walked away without another word.

Hannes entered the barge and inspected it thoroughly. The interior was empty, the cabins bare and the walls stained from the damp. But it was everything he needed. A shelter, a place to work in peace.

Later in the day, the deliveries arrived. Three men lugged furniture packages on board: a bed, a desk, a comfortable armchair. Then other suppliers arrived with an American refrigerator and an expensive coffee machine.

Shortly after sunset, Harald Witte, an old acquaintance of Hannes, appeared. He was limping slightly and his face was covered in deep scars. When he saw Hannes, a grin spread across his face.

“Well, you old bastard!” said Harald as they slapped hands.

“Harald, you look worse than last time,” Hannes replied with a grin.

The two men sat on deck while the generator lit the lights inside the barge. The smell of freshly brewed coffeefilled the air as they raised their cups in the silence of the night.

“How long ago was it?” Hannes finally asked.

"Almost 70 years," Harald answered, sipping his coffee. "Dresden. Do you remember?"

Hannes nodded. "The damned hospital. I lost one eye and you had a wooden leg. The good old days."

“Shit, I don’t miss her,” Harald said quietly.

The two men were silent for a while as the fog rolled over the harbor.A new place, the same demons.