Omega: War and the Supernatural Read Online Free

grin.
    “So, you are a Briton?” I ask.
    “I am.”
    “And from when do you come?”
    “1917, from what we keep calling 'The Great War,' though there's a Yankee chap in the back who insists his was bigger. You look like a Crusader, is that right?”
    “I am, yes. I come from the order of the Knights Templar.”
    “Please to meet you- eh, what's your name?”
    “I am Sir Frederick,” I replied, unsure if I should grant him my trust. 
    “Sir Frederick, then. Are you excited?”
    “Excited?”
    “About the battle! We're going to storm Hell itself!”
    “I know not what to feel,” I replied truthfully. I looked at his stick and asked, “I am curious, what is that?”
    “What, this?” He laughed. “Of course, how could you know! It's a Lee-Enfield standard-issue rifle! It's a bit like a bow that, eh, shoots small bits of metal at very high speeds. Very deadly and very long range.”
    “Fascinating.” I stroked my beard as another man sat beside me. This man was dressed head to toe in cloth and he wore a great object of steel, not unlike Private Nigel Turner's 'rifle.' I assumed it was a similar contraption, though this one was more fearsome. I asked, “Who are you?”
    “I am Faddel bin Solamin, soldier of Allah.”
    Remarkably, I felt no hostility towards him. This man, somehow, was my comrade. So, I kept up the conversation, “I am Sir Frederick, a Knight Templar. From when do you come?”
    With nervousness to his voice, he answered, “To your western mind, I am from the beginning of the second millennium. I committed Holy War against the Americans.”
    “Americans?”
    Turner answered, “From well after your time, Sir Frederick.”
    “Ah.” I was unsure where to proceed from that point, so changed the subject. “Do you know when we will be arriving? I am eager to disembark.”
    “Eh, I, uh, I don't know.” Turner removed his helmet and scratched his head. “I suppose we should ask, but I haven't got any idea of who we should bother.”
    I stood and glanced around, but saw no one who looked any less confused than we were. “I see no one free of our own predicament.”
    “Perhaps we should be patient,” Faddel suggested.
    “Yes, we should,” I agreed.
    But this did not satisfy Turner, who stood and walked over to the far wall. “Here, a ladder. We can climb up and look for answers!” He climbed, but once he reached the trapdoor and pushed, he told us, “It's bloody locked!”
    “Then sit down,” I told him. “We will know soon enough.”
    We sat for a long time without speaking. I cannot tell you for how long. It seemed as though more joined us in our car during the passage of time, but I cannot recall ever stopping. There were no more from my time, but I saw a man dressed like Turner, but I could not tell if they were from the same time. Instead of satisfying my curiosity, I sharpened my sword. Until, finally, Turner broke the silence, “I've got a thought.”
    “Pray tell.”
    “Let's think about this for a minute.” He licked his lip. “Time. Apparently, time has no meaning here, right? I mean, look around. You've got soldiers from all time waiting for the same thing and everyone knows exactly what they're doing here; exactly what this is. There are even people who shouldn't have any idea what a train is, but they aren't questioning it.”
    “This is true. I did not know what a 'train' was before my arrival.”
    “So, if time hasn't got any meaning, what if there isn't a question of 'when' we'll arrive?”
    “I am not sure that I follow.”
    “Maybe it's a question of 'how' or 'why.'”
    “I still do not follow.”
    “Look, since time's got no meaning, then waiting around won't mean anything either.” That made more sense, I supposed. “I'm not waiting around. I'm going up there and I'm going to find some bloody answers.”
    “Did you not say that it was locked?”
    “That's why I've got this!” He flaunted his rifle at me. I only shrugged as I followed to try and