In Times Like These Boxed Set

by Nathan Van Coops

  “I don’t want that. We still have a deal. I want the food.”

  The cashier takes another look at the multi-tool. “Really? How much food?”

  “Let’s start with one of everything you’ve got.”

  Pipers eyes widen when I bring two trays of food to the nearest table. It’s mostly junk: pretzels, hot dogs, paper bags of popcorn, and half a dozen other options. We’ll probably feel terrible after eating it, but we already feel terrible as it is.

  “Mom never lets me eat like this in the future,” Piper says. “She says it’s a good way to . . . die young.”

  “That’s because your mom is smart and clearly knows best. This is just all I can manage at the moment.”

  Piper looks unsure. For a moment I’m worried my gesture will go completely to waste, but I know she has to be starving. I chew on a piece of pretzel and watch her. She’s slow to start, but eventually she begins to eye the food. She carefully picks the hot dog out of the bun. Once she gets a few bites down, she looks less wary. After she’s finished the hotdog and moved on to a candied apple, she starts to look more herself. “Why are we doing this? Are you scared of going back to the bad place?”

  “I’m scared of going just about anywhere right now. Seems like every decision I’ve made lately has been the wrong one. But I figured if I could . . . if there was an opportunity to do one thing right by you . . . then now might be the time. I know I haven’t been much good as a dad so far, but . . . I don’t know. I hoped I could at least make this one good thing happen before leading us into the next inevitable disaster.”

  I don’t get a response.

  I lean in a little closer. “Look. I know I’m not your real dad. I know you wish your mom were here instead of me. I wish it was different too, but I want you to know that whatever happens from here, I’m not bailing on you. I’m going to do my best to . . . step up.”

  I wait for some kind of response.

  Piper considers her hunk of pretzel. “This food isn’t gravitized. If we make another jump right away, most of it won’t even come.”

  “Yeah, that’s true.” I take a sip of water, then select a French fry from the tray. “But it’ll be okay by the time we get back to the gate. I’m sure your dad taught you the rules, right? I know I would. Traveling right after eating is gross. Especially bad for carpets.” I stare at the fry in my hand, then toss it back to the tray.

  “I know all that already.” Piper toys with with the stick of her apple then slides her tray away. “You’re still not my real dad. You’ll never be him.”

  I sigh, then dig my corndog into some ketchup. “He’s probably a lot smarter than me when it comes to raising kids.”

  Studying Piper, I can’t help but notice how much she resembles her mom, especially the way she’s looking at me now. I set the corndog down. “I’m really, really sorry. I’m sorry I couldn’t get him back for you.”

  Piper looks down at her hands and fiddles with her napkin. “Are you going to tell mom? About what happened?”

  I fold my hands in front of me on the table. “Yeah. Yeah I will.”

  “What happens when we get back? What happens after?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “Will you still be my . . .” She looks up at me with questioning eyes but trails off. “You’ll still get me back, right? Back to mom?”

  “I’m sure trying to get us there. That’s the goal.”

  “But you don’t know for sure that you can?”

  “If I said I did, I’d be lying. And I don’t want to lie to you. Not again.”

  Piper doesn’t look up at me for a few moments, but when she does, she looks a little less lost. I recognize the strength in her eyes, even if it’s still shrouded in sadness. It’s another look I’ve seen from her mom.

  “Are you done being scared now?” she asks.

  “Probably not. You ready?”

  Piper looks me in the eye for a long moment, then nods.

  “Okay, then. Let’s go.”

  When we get back to Frontier Town, the cashier at the general store is busy helping a customer. She never notices us slip into the storage area. We find ourselves back in the empty room and twist aside the cover for the time gate controls.

  “You think the gate is in the doorway?” I ask. “Or maybe one of the walls?” I still can’t figure out where the emitters are.

  Piper shrugs.

  “Okay. Only one way to find out, I guess. Go ahead and activate it.”

  Piper selects the next available time slot after Vanessa went through, then punches the activation button. A brilliant light washes over my feet. Then the floor disappears.

  Gravity is a bitch.

  I hate falling at the best of times, but suddenly plummeting through the floor into a whirl of temporal soup has to be the least enjoyable method of time travel I’ve experienced so far. I’m grateful that the drop is short.

  Piper and I crash into a makeshift landing pad made of a dozen dirty couch cushions. I roll off the pile and onto the dusty floor. Looking up, I find that someone has installed the exit of the time gate in the ceiling of the room we left. We’ve landed back on the same floor we just fell through, but a long time into the future. Unless gravity somehow reverses itself, we’re not getting back out the way we came in.

  A temporal trapdoor.

  Piper gets to her feet and brushes herself off. I get up a little slower. “Okay then. Let’s see where our elusive friend got to.” Piper follows me out of the dusty back rooms to the front door of the general store. The termite-eaten door almost falls from its hinges as I drag it open. We step onto the dilapidated porch.

  The Old West town looks even more brittle and dry. Years of sun and wind have eroded the paint from the storefronts and left a haze of abrasion on all the windows. It’s a ghost town now. If it weren’t for the sun-faded restroom signs on the building across from us, it might even pass for a real western town and not a theme park.

  The bang makes me jolt.

  Splinters shower my face, torn from the roof support pole next to me.

  It takes me a moment to register the noise as a gunshot. I move just before the second bullet thuds into the wall behind me.

  “Get down!” I tackle Piper to the floor, then scramble to get her behind a few barrels sitting on the porch.

  The street has gone quiet again. Whoever shot at us could be anywhere.

  The sliding doors are open on the feed store across the street. There’s a hotel and saloon and some sort of music hall. Plenty of cover for a shooter.

  “Who’s shooting at us?” Piper whispers.

  “Can’t see ’em.”

  I pull the pistol from the waistband of my pants and check the magazine. The gun has eight bullets left. I won’t be getting any more around here.

  Peering around the barrels, I look for any sign of our attacker. As high up the pole as the bullet hit, they must have been down the street somewhere.

  After a solid minute of waiting, I gesture for Piper to get ready. “We’re going to head the other direction. Behind the building. We’ll sneak around.”

  Piper still looks frightened, but she nods. On my signal, she takes off and I follow immediately on her heels.

  I’m expecting a bullet in the back every step of the way, but we make the corner of the store without being shot at.

  The back of the general store opens onto a circular fairway. A decrepit wooden roller coaster arches overhead, and the line for waiting riders twists beneath it. Unlike the authentic main street western atmosphere out front, this avenue hosts a variety of Old West themed carnival booths. There are rusted tin targets in the shape of pigeons dangling in a shooting gallery. Another game is modeled after a bank robbery. A robotic cowboy is seated in a barker’s chair, frozen in place with one arm extended, beckoning guests closer.

  I keep the pistol ready as we search for an exit, trying to evade whoever might be out to get us.

  “Howdy, partner,” the metallic voice crackles th
rough a speaker behind us. It’s accompanied by a background of old-time piano music.

  I spin to find that the robotic cowboy has come to life, straightening up and tipping his hat to Piper. “Care to test your skills at the Lone Star Shootin’ Range? Five chances only costs you a nickel. Hit a target and choose from one of these fabulous prizes.” His rickety arm extends toward the bare shelves beside him. “Have you got what it takes, partner?”

  Piper squeezes closer to me and we move on, trying to get away from the clattering of the robot’s rusty joints. The only route that gets us away from the shooter leads beneath the deteriorating coaster. Neither seems like a safe choice, but I opt for the route without the bullets. A quartet of animatronic miners is positioned alongside mining cars at the entrance to the ride. One is inside a mining car with his hands in the air. A bunch of dirty signs illustrate the safety procedures of the roller coaster. One reads “Caution: Fun Ahead.”

  “Drop it.”

  The voice startles me, but I try not to make any sudden moves. As I turn to find the speaker, I discover Vanessa aiming a handgun at me.

  “Hey. I’ve got a little kid here,” I say moving to block Piper. “Be careful with that.”

  “Put your weapon on the ground.”

  I lay the pistol gently on the walking path.

  “Now back away.”

  Piper has her hands up. We both back away from the gun.

  “What did you do with the warp clock?” I ask.

  Vanessa keeps her pistol aimed at me while stooping to pick up the one I left on the ground. When she straightens up, she looks me up and down. “Aren’t you one of Franco’s hostages? How’d you get away?”

  The question throws me off. She doesn’t recognize us?

  She keeps the guns aimed at my chest. “Give me one reason I shouldn’t shoot you right now.”

  My brain is rushing to catch up to the situation. “Because you don’t. You’ll have a chance to shoot us later, and you won’t then either.”

  “You trying to predict my future?”

  “We just came from there,” I reply.

  Vanessa is about to say something when a clatter comes from behind her.

  “Howdy there, folks!” One of the mechanical miners shuffles his way around his mining car. He takes a step toward us. Vanessa swings a gun around and shoots, blasting the top of the miner’s head off. Piper and I both flinch.

  “Shit! This place gives me the creeps,” Vanessa mutters.

  But despite the damage she’s caused, the mine cars and miners are still moving. They rock back and forth in their designated area, and the one without a head still invites us to line up. He waves a rusty arm. “Riding alone? Today’s your lucky day. Fastest way to enjoy the Old West is in our single rider line.”

  Something above us shudders, and a small cloud of dust and dirt rains down around us.

  I look up to find that one of the ride’s cars has started ratcheting its way up a track. It’s already near the apex of the first hill, but part of the track is rusted away. The missing section is directly over our heads.

  “Oh shit. Look out!” I push Piper away as the car tips over the missing section of track. Piper pivots toward the open air of the fairway as the car crashes down through the structure’s support beams. Debris cascades around us. I’m struck by something heavy and sprawl into the dirt.

  “Dad!”

  I shake my head to clear the haze from my mind. Piper is back at my side, pulling on my arm to help me up. A fractured chunk of wood slides off my back and onto the ground. A sickening groan is coming from behind us. When I turn to look back, I find Vanessa on the ground, her leg pinned beneath a section of fallen track. She’s frantically trying to free herself because, directly overhead, another ride car is working its way up the damaged rails, headed for the same point of failure.

  I debate for just a moment, then push Piper onward. “Go. Get out of here!”

  “She’s stuck!” Piper replies, pointing back toward Vanessa.

  “I know. Get out into the open. I’ll be right there!” Once Piper is moving, I spin around and race back for the fallen car. Vanessa’s eyes are wide. A pistol is still at her side, but I don’t even bother to kick it away. There’s no time. I lift the rail pinning Vanessa’s leg as she pries up on it from below. She gets her foot out not a moment too soon. The car above us teeters and falls, crashing its way down through the already damaged supports. This time even more support beams splinter. Vanessa screams.

  Timber and steel rain down around us. It’s disorienting and I’ve suddenly lost sight of the way out. I cover my head with one arm as I search. Spotting a momentarily unobstructed path, I pull Vanessa to safety, diving to the dirt in the open fairway. Once we’re clear of the collapsing ride, I immediately search for Piper.

  She’s nowhere to be seen.

  “Piper!” I spin around. How could I lose her? “Piper!” My stomach clenches in my gut. She has to be here. She made it out.

  Vanessa is wide-eyed. “I saw her running.”

  “Which way?”

  “Back toward you.”

  No. No no no. I sprint for the wreckage, hurling aside scraps of wood and scouring the rubble for any signs of Piper. She was out, wasn’t she? Why would she run back in?

  The roller coaster is in ruins. Twisted metal track curls through the wreckage of fallen cars and lumber. Wood beams have splintered into fragments from the force of their destruction. How will I even see her? Could anyone survive this?

  This can’t be happening. Not her. Not this little girl.

  “Dad?” The voice sounds far away and tentative, but it’s there. I flinch and spin around, looking for the source. “Piper? Where are you?”

  “Dad! Help!”

  She’s under here. Under the wreckage.

  “Keep shouting, Piper. I’m coming!”

  “I’m over here!”

  There. A small hand is protruding from the wreckage. She wiggles her fingers.

  I scream at Vanessa. “Help me! Help me get her out!”

  I rush to the spot Piper is buried and squat to grasp her hand. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

  “I think . . . I think I’m okay.” Her grip is strong.

  Vanessa reaches my position and helps me lift away an aluminum panel that is obstructing my view of Piper. When we set it aside and look for her, I’m shocked at what I find.

  Piper is curled up on the ground in a ball, seemingly imprisoned by mechanical arms and legs. She’s under the clustered group of animatronic miners who greeted us as we walked in. Their now smashed bodies are positioned over her, forming a barrier. If they hadn’t been there . . .

  I push aside a pair of the mechanical arms and pull Piper from the wreckage by her armpits. I scoop her into my arms and hold onto her. “Thank God.”

  Piper wraps her arms around my neck. “I tried to come back for you.”

  “You’re crazy, you know that?” I say. “You could have been killed.”

  “I got saved,” Piper says. “They saved me.” She turns to look back at the mechanical miners. They are still frozen in their protective positions, leaned out and over the spot where Piper had fallen, their backs still bearing the weight of much of the wreckage that had rained down on them. The mechanical men are silent now, no signs of life or movement, but there is no denying the oddity of their positioning. Did they really move to save her or was it just a lucky coincidence?

  I hoist Piper higher in my arms and carefully carry her across the wreckage.

  Vanessa reaches the open path ahead of us. She stays standing as I collapse to the ground with Piper. I look up to find her staring at me.

  “What?” I’m panting and out of breath.

  “Why’d you come back for me?” Vanessa asks. “I tried to kill you.”

  “I don’t know. I figure this makes us even. You helped us. On the train and in the arena. I wasn’t going to let you die.”

  Her brow furrows. “The arena? What arena?”
>
  It hasn’t happened to her yet. This Vanessa is just starting her day. She hasn’t gone to kidnap Hitler yet. No gold rush. No arena.

  “You’ll know,” I explain. “Next time you see us, we’ll be in your helicopter’s gun sights. I’m trusting that you’ll remember us.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I ought to haul your ass back to Franco right now.”

  “What did you do with the warp clock?” I ask. “Was it you? You’re the courier?”

  Vanessa appraises me skeptically. “It’s done. The warp clock is delivered. He’s got it now.”

  “Who does? Your boss? Is he here somewhere?”

  Vanessa slowly backs away. “I’m out. You consider yourselves lucky that I’m not ratting you to Franco. You saved me, and I owe you for that, but now you’re on your own.”

  “There’s got to be a way out,” I reply. “How do we get out of this damned park?”

  “Just pick a gate, man. We all have our ways out now. We’re rewriting history.”

  “We need to go back. Back to the time we came from.”

  “There’s no going back now.” Vanessa turns and starts walking away. “You’d better pick a past you can live with. History is all changing.”

  In a matter of moments she’s disappeared up the path.

  I turn back to Piper. She’s dirty and disheveled but alive and unhurt. I’m taking it as a win.

  She gets to her feet first, then helps me up. I groan a little as I stand. There’s a stinging pain in my leg. It doesn’t feel like more than a scratch, but as I look down at my legs, I freeze.

  My pants are torn. A single jagged cut in the fabric runs from one side of my knee to the other.

  “Are you okay?” Piper is watching me. “Are you hurt?”

  My mind is racing to catch up with the situation. The video. The shooting. Torn pants.

  Piper is looking up at me, her face still bearing the tearstains from our conversation before the collapse.

  It takes time, but my mind finally organizes my thoughts into coherent words.

  “I think your dad might still be alive. And I think I know how to save him.”