The Time Corps Chronicles (Complete Series)

by Heather Blackwood

  He put his head in his hands. Someone knocked at the door.

  “Oh just a minute,” he called. He had forgotten to pay the hotel for an extra day, and the person outside would want to know when he would check out. He needed to go to the train station and see when the next train left for Georgia. After that, he would find a pub. He located his coat and rummaged through the pocket, looking for his billfold. The door opened a crack.

  “I said just a minute!”

  “It’s me.” Miss Sanchez entered, her eyes and nose reddened.

  “You’ve missed your train. What are you doing?”

  “I told McCullen to go on without me. I’m coming with you.”

  Chapter 29

  August 4, 1864

  Savannah, Georgia

  Hub world

  Hazel rested on her cot, staring at the little patch of night sky visible through her high prison window. The summer nights in Georgia were mild and she was not cold, even with only one blanket. The days were another matter, but she had lived in New Orleans long enough to be acclimated to heat. During the hottest part of the day, she imagined the cold ocean wind on her skin as she stood on the deck of Skidbladnir.

  Her ship. She loved the very thought of it. The dragon at the prow didn’t approve of her, but the crew seemed to like her well enough. She was more than willing to listen to Mr. Escobar’s advice on managing them and had worked at being serious and respectable while not driving them to exhaustion and misery. Like Neil, the crew enjoyed listening when she played violin after supper. But unlike him, they did not sit with their eyes closed or look out over the sea. Some monkeys would sway and some would bounce up and down rhythmically. Others would leap up and dance in a twirling, hopping spin that no human could ever replicate.

  Her violin was still on Skidbladnir, as was the time machine. The folded ship was still, God willing, in the possession of Mr. Escobar. Perhaps Mr. Escobar could open the ship, collect the crew and sail to their home on the island off the coast of Panama.

  It was long after bedtime for all decent folk, as far as she could guess. She hadn’t slept and knew that many hours had passed since sundown. The moon had risen and was now high in the sky, though occasionally obscured by drifting clouds. The other cell in the prison was empty, but guards stood outside. She was glad of it. One of the nights, a group of men had come to the prison door and Hazel had sat, cold with sweat, as the guards argued with them. After threatening murmurs she could not make out, eventually the men turned away.

  She wished she knew where Neil was. Perhaps, because he was such a dangerous fighter, they had put him in chains and in a stronger prison. She imagined a place made of stone, like a castle dungeon, but there was nothing like that here in Savannah. Then the darkest thought of all came to her once again, and she imagined him tied to a post, hands behind him, glaring at a row of men aiming rifles.

  But if he had come to see her when he was older, it meant that he would survive, didn’t it? She remembered him as he had been when she was young, a quiet man in a long black duster. But though her memories were real, that didn’t make him immune to death. He couldn’t leap off a cliff and expect to survive. She wished she could talk to one of the people from the Time Corps, someone who would explain these things to her.

  Something darkened the window, something very close, like a man’s head looking in at her. It vanished. She jolted upright, unable to breathe. Then the window darkened again.

  “Captain,” it whispered, and she recognized the small, furry body, legs and long, curving tail. The bars were set close together, but Mr. Escobar maneuvered himself through them and hopped down to the foot of her cot.

  “How did you find me?” she whispered. “I’ve been here for days. Why didn’t you come sooner? Is Neil all right? And what about the crew?”

  “I followed you. And once I knew where you were, I located Mr. Grey. And once I did that, I located the crew and notified them of the predicament in which we now find ourselves.”

  “Are they going to go back to Panama?”

  “If that is where you would like to go next, but I propose that we have more pressing concerns at this time.”

  “I meant that they might want to go home, seeing as the ship has no captain.”

  “I do not understand,” said Mr. Escobar. “You live, and until you sell or give away the ship, it is yours.”

  She wondered about that. Neil had stolen the ship from Mr. Van Dorn when it was in a bottle, so it seemed that theft was another way to gain control of the ship. But as Mr. Escobar said, she had more pressing problems.

  “I fear they will be keeping me locked up for life,” she said. “Either that, or they may execute me. I don’t know.”

  Mr. Escobar nodded, considering. “I have spoken with Mr. Grey and the crew, and no one has any way to free you. The human men have guns. We do not. Mr. Grey cannot even free himself, and he is strong.”

  “Where are they keeping him?”

  “Another prison across town. Not far, but hard to reach by daylight if one wishes to remain unseen. He has listened to his guards, and I have listened many times as well. It seems Mr. Grey will be executed, while you will be transported to Atlanta for trial. Mr. Grey says the trial will be a spectacle.”

  “I’m sure it will. It will make an excellent example of me. Now, tell me how Mr. Grey fares. Is he well?”

  “Well enough. Not that it will make much difference. The time of his execution is set for tomorrow at dawn.”

  Chapter 30

  August 4, 1864

  Savannah, Georgia

  Hub world

  Neil tried once more to get his wrists free of the heavy shackles. He had been locked into them after attacking three guards who had dared to enter his cell. They had to be dragged out, alive but injured, and he had been slammed against a wall and shackled, then beaten until he was bleeding from his nose and mouth and his ribs were heavily bruised.

  The shackles were strong, he had to give them that. No amount of twisting or compressing his hands, short of breaking the bones where his thumb met his wrist, would free him. And the walls were too sturdy for him to kick through. He had tried. Repeatedly.

  The notion of breaking his own hand bones was looking better and better. He didn’t know if he would die by firing squad or by hanging, but he wasn’t going to give up without a struggle. He’d take as many guards with him as he could. They could just as well shoot him escaping as tied to a post, so there was nothing to lose. He pressed experimentally against the bone in his left hand until the pain sharpened. He knew he had the strength to break the bone, but did he have the will? He would have to muster it. He would count to three.

  One. Two. Three.

  “You there!” said a voice through the horizontal slot in his door. “Stand up.”

  He obeyed, knowing already that if he refused, he would be hauled to his feet by a group of their strongest guards, beaten and perhaps not fed for the day. He backed against the wall and the guard unlocked the heavy door and pushed it open. The light from the lamp on the corridor wall was behind the guard, so the first thing Neil noticed was that the guard was alone. Foolish. Then he recognized him.

  “How did you find me?” he asked.

  Elliot Van Dorn put his finger to his lips and then closed the door. He grinned at Neil, but it was a vicious grin, full of unconcealed animosity.

  “Turn around,” Elliot said, holding up a key. At Neil’s hesitation, he said, “Do you want to stay here? Now turn around.”

  Neil did so, and Elliot unlocked the shackles and slid them off, setting them on the ground so they didn’t make any noise. Neil rubbed his wrists and flexed his hands.

  “Thank you. How did you find me?”

  “This is my home world, and I’m not doing this for you. You, young man, are a bastard and a thief
. I do this for the man you will one day become, and for Hazel, who is my friend.”

  “How do you know Hazel?”

  “Shut up and let’s get out of here. The sleepy gas I sprayed the guards with won’t work for long. I didn’t want them to be brain damaged or anything so I gave them a partial dose.”

  Neil followed Elliot down the hallway and out the back of the prison building which was attached to the police station. They crept through the shadows along the edge of the town square and then rushed down street after street, stopping in a stinking alleyway where piano music and raucous laughter filtered through the back wall of a bar.

  “I owe you one,” said Neil.

  “More than one.”

  “Why did you come for me?” Neil asked. “And what are you going to do with me now?”

  Elliot chuckled. “I’m not doing anything with you. I’m leaving you right here in this alley. The first thing you need to know is that you are being hunted by someone a lot scarier than I am. He hasn’t given up on you. But right now, if it were up to me, he could have you. I’m freeing you for Hazel’s sake and because you’ll be a better man, one day. Take this.” He offered him a small canister, sleek and metallic.

  “Sleepy gas,” said Elliot. “Best I could do on short notice. They’ll be transporting Hazel day after tomorrow to Atlanta. There’s a small town along the way, about twelve miles out of Savannah. There’s a pub there called the Raucous Raven. A friend of mine reminisced once, that he spent an evening there in this time. I suggest you go visit it.”

  “With this,” said Neil, examining the canister, “I can knock out any guards traveling with Hazel and get her myself. I don’t need your friend.”

  “Neil, you’re not the only one who cares about Hazel. She’s a great favorite among her friends, and there are those who would like to help her, and you, if you’ll let them.”

  Elliot went to put his hand on his shoulder, and Neil jerked away.

  “I don’t need your help.”

  “Well then, perhaps you’d like to return to your cell where you were better off.”

  Neil had no reply to that.

  “Fine,” said Elliot. “Be a stubborn horse’s ass. Oh, and one more thing. This is for stealing my time machine and the ship.”

  Elliot punched Neil hard in the face.

  Chapter 31

  August 4, 1864

  Outside Savannah, Georgia

  Hub world

  Seamus recognized the man the instant he saw him enter the Raucous Raven. Neil Grey was much younger now, only in his early twenties, but it was unmistakably him. For a moment, Seamus waited to see if Mr. Grey would approach him, but when he looked over the room and did not recognize him, Seamus rose from his seat.

  “Where’s Hazel?” he asked Mr. Grey.

  The man spun around and Seamus braced himself for an attack. But Mr. Grey paused and looked him over, considering.

  “Who are you?”

  “A bit jumpy, aren’t you?”

  Mr. Grey did not answer, but Seamus knew the wary, watchful look of a hunted man. He had once been one himself.

  “Tell me where she is,” said Seamus. “Is she with you?”

  “We’re drawing attention to ourselves,” said Mr. Grey. He seemed to relax a bit in regard to Seamus, looking over Seamus’s shoulder at the rest of the room.

  “Then let’s go,” said Seamus, tossing a few coins onto the bar to cover his bill. Miss Sanchez was upstairs in her room, as she hadn’t cared to come down to the pub, so he had been enjoying a pint alone, thinking.

  “She’s still in jail, isn’t she?” Seamus asked as soon as they were outside.

  “You still haven’t told me who you are,” said Mr. Grey.

  “Mother of God,” he muttered. “I’m Seamus Doyle. I assume Hazel has mentioned me?”

  “Yes.”

  “Now tell me where Hazel is.”

  “Still locked up.”

  “But she’s safe?” asked Seamus.

  “As far as I know.”

  “Please tell me you have a time machine. And friends from the time group of yours. I think we’ll need some help.”

  “Sorry to disappoint,” said Neil. “But I just escaped from jail.” Seamus detected a note of humor in it. The man was filthy and unshaven, and he probably didn’t have two cents to rub together.

  The attack happened so fast Seamus almost missed it. One moment, they turned a corner to duck between two buildings, the next, a man leaped at Mr. Grey, pulling his arms back to restrain him. Mr. Grey pulled free, turned and grabbed the man under the chin, slamming him into the wall. When the man made a swing for Neil’s face, he lowered him to the ground and slammed his head against the ground until he went still.

  “Dear God,” whispered Seamus. He had never seen such speed and ruthless brutality. When he had met Mr. Grey before, he had seemed such an average sort of man.

  “This isn’t a pickpocket,” said Mr. Grey.

  “A lawman, or a bounty hunter?”

  If Mr. Grey had just escaped, no doubt people would be hunting him.

  “Maybe the latter.” Mr. Grey knelt and searched the man on the ground, going through his pockets and even checking in his mouth. “He’s alive. I didn’t kill him.”

  “I’m glad.”

  “No, not a bounty hunter. Not the kind you mean anyhow. This is a man from my own time.”

  “How can you tell?”

  “He has white dental fillings.”

  “Well, who is he then?”

  “He’s after me, and he wanted me alive. He has no interest in you. No need to concern yourself.”

  “He’s after you then? Why? What did you do?”

  Mr. Grey pulled the man far back into the alley, laying him out flat near a wall. He stood and looked down at him, as if thinking.

  “If you don’t kill him, he’ll come after you again, won’t he?” asked Seamus.

  “Probably.”

  Mr. Grey left the alley and Seamus followed.

  “I’m a hunted man,” said Mr. Grey quietly. “As long as Hazel is in jail, they’ll know I’m nearby.”

  “All the more reason to get her out. And it seems we have that in common then. A man named Mr. March wants me dead, and according to a friend of mine, he can time travel without a machine. Have you heard of anything like this?”

  “Yes, I have. He wants us both, and as long as Hazel is here, he’ll know we will be too.”

  “Here’s my hotel. Come inside.”

  Seamus made arrangements for Mr. Grey to have a room and asked for someone to send up a hot meal for him.

  “Now,” said Seamus when they reached his room. “Tell me how Hazel is.”

  “She’s well, as far as I know. She’ll be transported to Atlanta tomorrow. They’ll be taking her on a road near here.”

  “That’s not much time. I don’t suppose you have any weapons or skeleton keys or useful things for getting Hazel free?”

  Neil Grey pulled a metallic canister from his pocket.

  “Just one.”

  Chapter 32

  August 5, 1864

  Outside Savannah, Georgia

  Hub world

  A guard offered his hand to help Hazel into the police wagon and she hesitated before taking it and climbing in.

  “Thank you,” she said softly. He did not answer, but when she seated herself, she caught his eye and he looked away. She still wore her trousers and boots, though she had been offered a used dress while in prison. Once she went to trial, she would be sure to ask for something very ladylike, perhaps in white, something that made her look very young and innocent.

  Did the guards know what had happened to Neil? She had asked the guards before, but none of them would
tell her a thing. If he was dead, then why wouldn’t they mention it? Were they afraid she would descend into hysterics, making their job of transporting a woman even more awkward? Two guards climbed into the wagon with her and sat on the bench across from her before the two doors clanged closed. She heard the lock being fitted into its place and snapping shut. Both of the guards inside with her were armed and also avoided looking directly at her. That couldn’t mean anything good. Either they anticipated that she would have a grueling trial, which she had already accepted, or they knew something else she did not.

  “Some people are coming,” said a man outside, and through the two barred windows at the back of the wagon, Hazel and the two guards watched a group of men, perhaps the same ones who had come to the prison, approach.

  “You all go home now,” said a guard outside, and the wagon lurched forward. Some of the men in the group yelled and pointed.

  “You’ll be all right,” said one of the guards across from her. “We have eight mounted men outside, riding along with us.”

  It was just after dawn, and if Mr. Escobar was correct, Neil was already dead. As the wagon bumped along, she silently said a prayer for the repose of his soul. If Neil was gone, then she was friendless in the world, except for Mr. Escobar, and only God knew where he was. If she was fortunate, he would be following along. And if not, then she might never see him again.

  She refused to cry in front of the guards, and bit the inside of her lip hard, making tears come to her eyes, but for a reason she could control. She had done all her real crying back in her cell, and would do no more until she was alone.