That terrible day

Alright, I can't delay any longer, it's time I told you the big thing that happened in the gap when I wasn't blogging.

We woke up one mid January morning to find Precog gone again. His bike was missing too, we hardly ever ride our bikes these days, but of course he didn't have the forcefield express this time.
Hana alerted me to his new voice mail message, having tried to call him:

'Hi this is Precog, and if you're calling me, you're probably wondering where I am. Do not try to find me, I'm following a drawing telling me about a new powered-up git that works for one of our foes, I think he works for HIM. Me following him is the key to his death, which stops him destroying most of England in a couple of weeks. Don't worry, I'll be fine, Do not follow me.'

I could hear his voice starting to quiver just as the beep came in, signaling for me to leave a message. I hung up and asked Tildy to track him.

'His bike's at the train station, and heeeeeeeeeeeeeeee's........hang on, Dover. He's at Dover. He's about to head up to the top of the cliff. He's running. and there's definitely someone going after him. We need to hurry.'

'All aboard the forcefield express! Now!'

I grabbed my cloak and ran to the door. We gathered in the doorway and were about to fly off when Doolittle grabbed a sheet of paper pinned to the door.
'Hang on, this says that we don't leave until it starts raining. No matter how much of a hurry we're in, we can't go against a vision he's actually had.'

I swept a hand impatiently at the sky as I created our forcefield with the other. Grey clouds filled the air and a dark torrent of water began to fall. 'Happy now?'

We all shot off into the sky, and soared towards Dover. I rushed us there as fast as I could, a splitting headache growing steadily as the country blurred around us. Tildy was holding my arm to help my forcefield tune into her vision of Precog. Everyone prepared themselves as we shot faster than a bullet. I felt a nosebleed coming as we reached the coast, and I had to sharply slow us down in order to prevent us ending up over the channel. I'd made the trip from Cambridge to Dover in just under 3 minutes. Slowly we made it almost to the top, when I finally gave out and collapsed. The forcefield faded, and we fell the ground. (Fortunately we were only a foot or so high up at this point. I struggled onto my hands and knees, and felt Playwrite and Don help me onto Centaurs back. ('Pleasure to be of service! Donkey-boy to the rescue!')

With me slumped over his back, our group made it's way up the rest of the slope. Precog slowly came into sight, and a sinister looking dark haired man.

'Precog!!!'

He turned round and looked at us all and smiled. 'I knew you'd come....I wanted you to be here, but I needed to slow him down. I love you all. But this is..the End.'