by C J M Naylor
"It's nice to meet you, sir," I said politely.
"Well enough of this," Henry said. "It's already dropped ten degrees since last night. Something's going on and I heard about what happened in San Francisco on the radio. Come inside and you can explain."
The four of us followed Henry into his home. As soon as I stepped in, I could feel it was an older home. All of Henry's items seemed to have an antique feel to them—as if they had been there for a long time. Pictures adorned the walls of the Jane family. There were pictures of Thomas, a young child with his father and his mother, not his biological mother, as he had previously explained to me, but the woman that had raised him. There were also older pictures of the Jane family. One picture in particular that stood out was of a man dressed in a Civil War uniform. I could only assume that this was Reginald Jane, Thomas' grandfather. As soon as I was reminded of that, my mind flashed back to the sword that Thomas kept in his study at the San Francisco Headquarters. It had been the sword that his grandfather had used in the war. The sword that Council Headrick had pushed into my uncle, killing him. I quickly looked away from the picture and turned my attention back to Henry, who was gathering everyone in his living room.
Henry gestured for all of us to take a seat on the couch, and we did. As soon as I sunk into the cushions, I didn't want to get up again. It was comfortable, almost too comfortable, if there was such a thing. I imagined myself falling asleep there for days and not returning to the mess I had made of everything. But that wasn't an option. It couldn't be.
Thomas' father took a seat as well and looked directly at me.
"Tell me what happened," he said.
I looked to Thomas, who simply nodded to go ahead, and so I launched into the story of what had happened in San Francisco, occasionally adding details from my life in London that were necessary in order for everything to come full circle. If there was one thing I could already tell about Henry, it was that he was an attentive listener. Once I was finished, he allowed himself a few moments, and then spoke.
"You made the right decision in not traveling anywhere by Time Line," he began. "I would say it is definitely their intention to track you. You won't have to worry about being tracked here. My pocket watch was passed on to Thomas, which is now gone, and if Abigail and Alma's were left behind, we are safe here for now. However, not having your pocket watch is also going to make things difficult. You will have to travel the normal way, and that is going to slow down what you need to accomplish, which, from what it sounds like, is to find this original Headquarters and reverse what has happened."
I shook my head. "That's just it, I have no idea where it could possibly be."
"Well, much of our older texts are written in Gaelic," Henry replied, "so it would make sense that it would be in Ireland."
It was then that I remembered Mathias had mentioned that as well. It had been in passing, during one of our lessons, but he had said it.
Henry spoke again.
"Your mother's name Callaghan, being an Irish name, means your best bet is Ireland. Where in Ireland, I have no idea. But that is where you need to go, and the sooner the better."
"I don't think I mentioned her last name," I said.
Henry looked caught off guard for a moment, but quickly overcame it.
"I'm positive you did," he said.
I was sure I hadn't, but I didn't worry about it for now. Maybe Thomas had mentioned it at one point. I also needed to find out about Mathias.
"My father, Mathias, is in Paris," I said. "He has no idea I survived, and I didn't think about sending him a message before we left. What can we do? He needs to be with us on this."
"It might be safer for him just to stay there, Abby," Thomas said.
"What if it isn't though?" I asked. "If the Council is looking for us, he might be the first person they try to get information from. He might not be safe with them."
"Maybe we can find some way to get to him," Thomas said, "but for now we have to hope that he is safe and go from there."
"Until then," Henry started in, "all of you are more than welcome to stay here. As I'm sure you've noticed, there are plenty of rooms. I've also got a change of clothes. My wife's clothes would probably be close to you girls' size, and I'm sure Oli and Thomas can find something in my closet."
I looked around at them all. Everyone looked exhausted. I was exhausted. It made sense to step back for the day and take a break. Get some sleep. But first I needed to take a bath.
"Where's the bathroom?" I asked.
Colorado was cold, and I wasn't prepared for it. I had gotten rather used to the nicer weather in San Francisco, especially after living in London all of my life. The hot bath, however, helped remedy the cold some. I knew the water wouldn't stay warm forever, but I wasn't planning to get out until it did go cold. As I laid in the tub, I stared up at the ceiling of the bathroom and pondered the events of the previous week. Everything had happened so quickly, so unexpectedly.
Bridget was dead. My uncle was dead. But my mother was alive. And my grandmother was also alive, and she was out to destroy everything good about the world. I had come so far in finding out about my biological family in the past year, and now, for the first time, I wanted to rewind everything. I didn't want to just rewind the clock on San Francisco. I wanted to rewind the clock on all of it. To that day, that day I had met Ian at the London Library. If I could go back now, I would have told Phillip that he should just skip work for the day, risk getting fired. I'm sure he would've done it if he'd known what was going to happen.
And then I felt guilty. Because there was so much good that had come out of everything. I had met Thomas, and Alma, and Oli, even though I still didn't know much about him yet. And the way I was feeling about Thomas, well, that was something I thought I'd never feel again. And even Bridget, even though she wasn't here with me anymore, we had mended everything. She had finally been honest with me about everything, and I her. But as soon as everything had been fixed, it had all been destroyed. By me.
I let myself slip below the surface of the water and screamed. I screamed for all of my friends and family that had died. For all of the people who had lost their lives in San Francisco because of what I had done, even if I had done it inadvertently. I let myself feel the pain that their family members must be feeling at this very moment. They might even have family members throughout the world that didn't know anything just yet. That made it all the worse.
When I couldn't breathe any longer, I broke the surface, and then I cried. I let myself feel it all, because I wasn't in that darkness anymore, and I needed to get these feelings out of me. Now was the time to fight.
And I was going to fight like hell.
After the water of the bath had finally run cold, I secluded myself in the guest bedroom Henry had provided. The bathroom was attached to the bedroom, and I had yet to receive any clothes, and I didn't want to put the dirty ones from San Francisco back on, so I laid in my bed and pulled up the covers, wearing nothing. It was something I'd never done before, something I was sure my mother would have been appalled at. But she wasn't here. It was just me now.
The door to the room clicked open, and I pulled the covers up closer and looked over to see Thomas. He placed a pile of clothes on the edge of the bed.
"I brought you these."
"Thank you.”
"I'll let you get some rest.”
He turned to go, but I called to him.
"Will you stay with me? I mean, while we're here, can you just sleep in here? I'm tired of being alone."
A smile appeared on his face, and for the first time, he actually blushed.
"I'm sorry," I said jokingly, "is the handsome Thomas Jane actually flustered right now?"
"Shut up," he said, grinning. "Jesus Christ, the emotions you bring out of me. I'll go get some cloths I'm borrowing from my father, and maybe, you should, um, put some clothes on."
I looked down at myself, covered by the sheet.
"How'd you know?"
He raised an eyebrow at me. "Seriously?"
"Never mind," I responded. "Go get the clothes."
Thomas grinned again, and then opened the door, closing it behind him.
I pushed the covers aside and went through the clothes he had brought. There were several dresses, a few pairs of pants and blouses, and a night gown. Knowing that everyone else was likely to sleep most of the day, I threw the night gown over my head, placed the clothes in an empty wardrobe that stood across from the bed, and began to walk around the room, looking at various pieces of art and pictures Henry had decorated the room with.
The door clicked open, and Thomas' voice came into the room.
"Decent?" he asked.
"Yes, thank you," I replied.
He pushed the door open and then closed it again behind him. In his arms were a pile of clothes that he also placed into the wardrobe. He pulled out a pair of undergarments and carried them to the bathroom.
"Alma and Oli have already gone to sleep," he said, looking over his shoulder. "They were exhausted. I'm going to take a quick bath and then get some shut eye too."
I nodded at him, and he went into the bathroom and placed his clothes on a table near the bathtub. The water came on and then he reappeared in the doorway.
"I'll be out soon," he said, smiling again.
I nodded and he turned, pushing the door behind him, but it didn't quite latch. He didn't appear to notice, so I walked over to the door and grabbed the handle to shut it but was suddenly distracted by him.
Thomas had taken off his shirt, and I was captivated. I had never seen him without his shirt on, and hadn't seen a man shirtless since Phillip. Thomas was more broad-shouldered than Phillip had been, and his muscles were a bit more defined. He turned away so that only his back was visible, and then his pants and underwear came off and I was looking at his bare buttocks. It was then that he saw me in the mirror of the bathroom.
"Really?" he asked.
I quickly turned around, and then chastised myself silently for again not latching the door shut.
"If you wanted to see," he said from the bathroom, "I'll you had to do was ask."
"Oh, shut up," I said, grinning. "I was just trying to shut the door and you distracted me. If you'd get it for me, I'd greatly appreciate it."
"My apologies."
The door clicked shut and I took a deep breath, still smiling, and still wanting to see more.
After Thomas had finished his bath, he had put on his long johns and joined me in bed. He had his arm around me, and we were simply staring into each other's eyes, our breathing slow, and everything was perfect.
"How long can we stay here?" I asked, finally breaking the silence between us.
"As long as we need," Thomas replied. "Believe me, my father doesn't mind. I know he enjoys the company."
"That's great," I responded, "but it's not what I mean. I want you to tell me how long you think we can stay here before—" it was hard to put into words the various things that worried me, but I did my best, "—before Lucinda finds me, or before we have to leave because of time resetting the world."
"I don't know," Thomas replied, "and that's the honest answer. I would say we probably don't want to spend any longer than a week here. Tomorrow, we need to map out exactly what we need to do, exactly where we need to go. And then, we should probably spend a bit of time gathering the necessary supplies, and then we move."
My eyes began to water and I buried my head into Thomas' chest. "This is all my fault."
"No," Thomas said, pushing my chin up so that I had to look him in the eyes again. "Abigail, you were manipulated. You know in your heart that you wouldn't have done this intentionally."
"I know," I said, "I just hate the fact that I let myself be put in that situation, and then Bridget ended up dying anyway. It was all pointless."
"But that was their plan," Thomas responded. "That is exactly what they wanted to happen. Listen, you're tired. You need to sleep. We both do. Let's just try to get some rest, and then we'll worry about the future tomorrow. Okay?"
I nodded. He smiled at me, and then I buried myself into his chest again and nodded off.
CHAPTER TWO
The next day, Thomas took me around Cripple Creek. While he had never lived in the old mining town himself, he had visited several times to see his parents.
"Why are you making me climb these hills?" I asked him as I forced my body to go up yet another hill. He was leading me toward a red bricked building that sat perched up ahead, overlooking the city.
"I'm sorry," Thomas replied, "I just wanted to see it. Besides, we're going to officially be on the run soon enough, so you'll need your exercise."
I laughed. "I thought we were already on the run. And what is this 'it' you are wanting to see?"
Thomas gestured towards the red bricked building we were heading for.
"What is it?" I asked him.
"The St. Nicholas Hospital," Thomas said having finally reached the top of the hill and staring at the building.
Breathing heavily, I stopped next to him and leaned over, trying to catch my breath.
"Why did you want to look at a hospital?" I asked.
Thomas didn't look at me; he simply continued to stare at the building. "It's where my mother died."
Guilt from having complained about walking up a hill consumed me. I stepped closer to Thomas and put my arm around him. He pulled me into him and held me close.
"I'm sorry," I said, leaning up on my toes and whispering into his ear.
"She was my true mother," Thomas said. "I've never wanted to know anything about my biological mother. I've never cared to find out anything about her. She didn't want me, so why should I care?"
"It's okay," I said. "I felt the same way, originally. I thought my biological mother threw me away like I was trash, and I didn't want to find out anything about her. It wasn't until I knew the truth that I needed to know."
Thomas broke away from me and walked away. "Well, it's not like there is anything more to my biological mother. She will always be the woman who abandoned me."
I stood there for a moment before finally catching up to him again. "I wasn't saying that you should feel like you have to go find out about her or anything."
"Well you sure made it sound like maybe my assumptions about her are incorrect," he said. "She abandoned me. She left my father alone. There's nothing more I need to know about her."
I turned away from him and gazed back up at the hospital. For the first time he seemed genuinely angry with me, and I didn't know what to say. I knew there was only one thing to say, and to leave it at that.
"I'm sorry," I said. And then I turned to head back down the hill.
As I walked away, I heard Thomas give a frustrated sigh and then he was by my side and taking my hand.
"Excuse my language," he said, "but it's so fucking impossible to stay angry at you."
He pulled me into him and I smiled as he did.
We had lunch at a small café not too far from the hospital. Really, when I thought about it, everything wasn't too far from everything else because it was such a small town. Being in Cripple Creek felt like being in an entirely different world compared to London and San Francisco.
"This town is so quaint," I said to Thomas as a waitress placed our drinks on the table. "Everyone seems so nice here."
The waitress laughed at my comment. "What's left of them, that is."
I gave her an odd look. "What do you mean?"
"Cripple Creek was a gold mining town," she replied. "At the turn of the century we had over 10,000 people in this town. Now we have a little under 3,000. Mark my words, we'll be a ghost town before long. Gold has gone and dried up."
The waitress laughed again, but there was a hint of sadness to it, and then walked away.
"That's awful," I said to Thomas, looking out the window of the café. "The town is dying. I guess it doesn't matter though, considering what I did to the entire world."
>
Thomas took my hand in his. "Stop that. We are going to fix this. You know we are. We are going to go to Ireland and turn back time, just like Elijah said."
I shook my head in frustration. "Thomas, even if we did get to Ireland, we have no idea where to look for the original Headquarters. And I have no idea how to get in. I have no idea how to turn back time. We need to find my mother."
He squeezed my hand. "And we will. We will find her. We will find her, and we will fix this."
My eyes began to water. I pulled my hand from Thomas' and quickly rubbed away the tears that were about to fall.
"It's dangerous," I said. "Thomas, I've lost so much already. I can't lose you. I won't lose you."
"What are you saying?" Thomas asked.
I looked him point blank in the eyes. "I'm saying maybe I should go through with this on my own."
He shook his head. "There is no way in hell I'm letting you go through this by yourself. You need me, Abby. You need all of us: Alma, Oli, my father, Mathias, and your mother, Elisabeth."
The tears returned and began to fall down my cheeks. Thomas reached out and brushed them away with his thumb.
"Life used to be so simple," I said, looking out of the window again. "I'm not the girl I used to be."
"Honestly," Thomas replied, "I don't think any of us are going to be the people we used to be. This has changed us all."
I didn't respond. Thomas turned and also looked out the window. I reached out and touched the windowpane.
"It's getting colder," I said.
"It is Colorado."
I shook my head. "No, the temperature just keeps going down. Ask your father and anyone here, I bet it doesn't just drop this fast."
The return of the waitress and placement of our meals on the table brought me out of my thoughts.
"We've been in the negatives before," the waitress said, responding to my comments on the weather, "but that's always at night. Right now, we're already in the single digits. It'll be a record for sure if we get into the negatives today before nightfall. Can I get you anything else?"