by Turner, Ivan
I was doubtful. “Are you sure?”
“Do you want to go?”
Of course I didn’t want to go. I told him as much.
“Then don’t go. And don’t worry about a thing. Like I said, this is an old debate. We’re well prepared for their arrival.”
They came the next morning.
Jeremy came into my room while I was asleep and quickly roused me. I pulled myself groggily to my feet, noting the stack of clean bedding he deposited on the dresser. At first I thought he was simply changing my linen and thought, what an odd time to change the linen. But he hastily explained that there was a police cruiser coming up the drive. Pulling the sheets off of the bed, he threw them onto the floor. He left the pillows as they were and grabbed me by the arm.
The doorbell rang as we hit the hallway. I caught a glimpse of Wyatt passing from one room into the front, going for the door. Jeremy took me in the other direction, saying nothing. I followed, still trying to clear the sleep from my head. He led me to the back of the house and down into the cellar. It was half-finished, with a tile floor and stone walls. He walked to a darkened corner and he felt around the floor for a moment. Finally, he raised a two foot by four foot section of tile and slid it back and over another portion of the floor on a thin track. Underneath was a trap door. Below it was a small staircase leading down into darkness. We went in together and he pulled the door closed. Lighting a flashlight, he found the runners for the track and, I assume, pulled the tile back into place.
Further down below, the small staircase opened up into a narrow corridor. There was barely enough room for a man to fit. Robert, Livvie’s husband, would have had to squeeze his way in and through. Jeremy urged me on for a bit and then we stopped. It was very claustrophobic. When I tried to speak, he shushed me. He doused the light quickly and we were bathed in darkness.
Presently there came the sound of footsteps and voices from above. Through the floor, it was too difficult to hear what was being said, but I could surmise questions about my whereabouts. If the police discovered the trap door, I didn’t know what would happen. We hadn’t reached the end of the tunnel, but I had no way of knowing how far it went or where it ended up. Escape was one of those things that, well, escaped me. Wyatt had told me that they were well prepared for this eventuality. I imagined that this tunnel, though part of the plan, was not the whole of it. Remembering Neville’s plan of death and destruction at the Rocky Mountain Facility, I became suddenly frightened. Were my brothers prepared to fight? I didn’t want any more fighting. I didn’t want any more death.
The footsteps and the voices faded, but still Jeremy kept us down in that dark hole. I once again tried to speak, the absence of vision making me thirst for the use of another sense, but Jeremy clamped a hand firmly over my mouth, then extended one finger across my lips to indicate that I was not to attempt it again. So I didn’t.
And hour passed. More. We waited in the silence until a shaft of light burst through at the front end as the door was opened. Jeremy tensed; I could feel it. He nudged me away from the opening, slowly at first, then more rapidly. We began to move deeper into the tunnel, but then Wyatt called out and we stopped. I was about to answer but Jeremy must have sensed it. His hand was around my wrist and it squeezed tightly. Wyatt breathed audibly at the end of the tunnel, told us they were gone and that we could come out. Jeremy waited another moment, then moved forward, pulling me along.
“What did they say?” he asked as we pulled ourselves free.
I squinted in the dim light, my pupils having grown to the size of ping pong balls. Jeremy shielded his eyes, too, but seemed less affected.
“They had a search warrant and an arrest warrant,” Wyatt said. He looked at me. “They’re calling you a murderer.”
I shook my head. “I didn’t hurt anyone.” Of course, I had clipped a soldier in the back of the head with a broom handle, but it’s possible I had saved his life assuming my efforts had put him out of the battle.
I began to speak, but Jeremy hushed me again. “Did Martie come out?” he asked.
“She had to. She played her part.”
I was sickened by the dialogue. It made me feel part of a criminal conspiracy. And I was the principle criminal. I wanted to flee, to leave this life behind. I ached for Jennie.
We moved out of the basement and up into the light. Jeremy was asking Wyatt if he thought they’d be back.
“Undoubtedly,” Wyatt said. “And I’m sure they’re watching the house.” He turned to me. “You’d better lay low for a while. Stay away from the windows and don’t go outside.”
After that, there wasn’t much to be said. If they were watching the house then I couldn’t leave. Once I tried to get away, the police would know that Jeremy and Wyatt had been hiding me. So it was hidden that I had to remain. There was one escape that they couldn’t follow, though. A leap. If I could work myself up enough to make a leap through time, they would never know that I had been there. I would once again be untraceable. Of course, my next leap would likely take me beyond the lifespans of my brothers. It would be goodbye forever and I would suddenly be thrust into an alien world in a state of mourning.
In a way, I relished the thought of being alone. Once all remnants of the past had been cast aside, the pressure of being cured would also drop away. This notion began to consume me. I began to think of people who spent good portions of their lives travelling alone. They never set down roots, never took spouses or sired children. They just moved from place to place with a few belongings, seeing the world. Drifters, they were called. That’s what I would become. I would become a drifter through time. I would set down roots nowhere. I would move through the decades, centuries, millennia, seeing the Earth and the human race in various stages until, until….
Martie was watching the television when we came up and there was a look of disdain on her face. There was a news story about me. The government had finally put a face on time jumping and the people afflicted with it. What timing!
There was footage from the Rocky Mountain massacre. The facility itself was described as a medical institution where researchers were experimenting with various pharmaceuticals. It was played as a very benign institution and the people who worked there were considered benevolent victims. Forty time leapers had appeared inside in an effort to steal government secrets. They showed my picture. I was labeled as a scout and a spy, video footage of me moving about the complex abundant. Then they showed Neville’s picture. All of the footage showed him angry and shooting. Neither of us had been apprehended as of yet, but strong leads were being pursued.
I sat down heavily.
Martie looked stricken.
Jeremy waved it away. “It’s all crap. You can see the cells in that footage. The media are going to tear that story apart.”
“The media just delivered it,” Wyatt said. “They confirmed the existence of time leapers and labeled them as villains.”
My heart sank.
“There’s nothing we can do about it now,” Martie interjected. “He’s stuck here.”
And, for some reason, her acceptance of that made the whole situation worse.
I spent the next couple of days hidden in the house watching TV and eating. Livvie came by again, this time alone. We spent a nice Saturday afternoon talking and then bid each other so long. As the day wore on, the tension in the house mounted. The waiting was difficult. They were still out there, the police. Wyatt and Jeremy saw them every time they left the house. Martie complained about them. Even Livvie had something to say. They were making no effort to conceal themselves. They were just watching and waiting to see if I would arrive.
By nightfall, we almost couldn’t stand each other’s company. Martie excused herself early, as she was wont to do regularly. My brothers and I sat around staring at each other for a while and then off we went as well. I was tired, the tension taking its toll on my psyche. The anticipation was awful. I read for a little while and then fell asleep.
So
metime around one o’clock in the morning, Wyatt came to wake me. There was a gleam in his eye and I noticed that he was fully dressed.
“They’re making a move,” he said, throwing some clothing at me. “Get dressed.”
Once again, I was groggy from sleep. Why did these police insist on coming through the door while I was sleeping? I managed to pull the shirt over my head and slip into the pants while Wyatt dragged me out of the room. The corridor was brightly lit, the lights shining from outside the house. Even through the shades, we were able to see by it. Jeremy was waiting for us and Martie, the only one still in night clothes, stood by nervously.
I think Jeremy was about to say something to her when there came a knocking upon the door. Someone outside announced himself as a police officer and they swept me away and to the back of the house. Behind us, we heard the door fly open.
Just a step ahead of the invaders, we made the cellar. The tiles were already moved aside and the trap door open. Jeremy went in first and Wyatt pushed me in behind him. We began to move through the pitch black narrow tunnel. Jeremy was moving ahead by feel and I was moving with my hand on his shoulder. I heard the door close behind us and soon felt Wyatt’s presence behind me. We walked for a short time and then emerged into a garage of sorts.
It was ingenious, really. The garage was off of the main road and inside the trees. It wasn’t exactly hidden, but it would be impossible to reach from the house without behind noticed. Inside was a blue pickup truck from the early twenty first century. It was gas powered which Jeremy said gave it a lot more oomph. We piled in, the three of us in the front. Jeremy drove. He pulled slowly out into the trees. From where we sat idling, we could see the house and the vehicles surrounding it. There was also a news crew. They weren’t taking any chances with losing me. And yet here I was. Hopefully well lost.
A second later, Jeremy was pulling away from the garage and away from the house.
“Will Martie be okay?” I asked.
Jeremy shrugged. “If she keeps her mouth shut, she’ll be fine. They won’t find you or any evidence you were even there.”
But Jeremy didn’t seem terribly confident that she’d keep her mouth shut.
He kept our speed down as we moved through the trees and eventually found a dirt track. The track was meant for cars, but seldom used. Our lights were off and the going was treacherous and interminable. Eventually, though, we reached a main road and pulled out onto the deserted pavement. Jeremy finally switched the lights on and we began to drive away.
At first, all seemed peaceful, as if we’d made a clean break and could go about where we pleased. I had no idea what my brothers had in mind for their plan, but I didn’t ask. They seemed tense enough about the whole affair to begin with so I just let them run things, sitting back and feeling tense myself.
Then, all at once we were bathed in bright light and the truck shot forward as Jeremy hit the gas.
“Here we go,” he mumbled, checking the mirrors and setting his features into a determined countenance.
Behind and around us, we were joined by different vehicles. Red lights flashed in the nighttime. Jeremy pushed on, unswerving. Wyatt, teeth gritted, pulled out his phone and made a call.
“It’s Wyatt. It’s happening.” He listened for a bit, then spoke over me to Jeremy. “Head for town.”
My tension grew and I began to feel the warmth of adrenaline as it coursed through my veins. I became aware of a fluttering sensation in my muscles, as if the pulse of blood through them had quickened. I tried to recall such a feeling and failed. Wyatt was conversing with both the person on the other end of the phone and Jeremy but I could no longer follow the conversation. I was having a revelation. Without knowing this feeling, I recognized it for what it was. My body was preparing for a leap. I’m too bored to jump! Unlike Rogers Clinton, I was not bored. My life was in peril. The lives and freedom of my brothers was in jeopardy as well. I was incensed. Whatever it was inside my body that caused me to leap through time was responding to these feelings. I would leap soon.
I tried to tell my brothers but I couldn’t find the words. So enthralled was I by the physical feeling that enveloped me. Outside the truck’s windows, the flat highway morphed into a complicated web of overlapping and underpassing roadways. Buildings began to spring up, only a few at first, then more. But I was only dimly aware of this as I concentrated on the feeling. Why was it so strong now? Why hadn’t I ever noticed it before? Was it the tension? Was I more tense now than I had been when I’d leaped away during the invasion of the GEI installation in the Rocky Mountains?
“Snap out of it, Mathew!” Wyatt punched me in the arm.
I looked at him, coming out of my reverie. “It’s happening. It’s going to happen soon”
Presently I was aware of the sound of a helicopter.
He grimaced. There were tears in his eyes. “This is where we say goodbye, then. I love you, Mathew.”
Jeremy spared me a glance, focused on navigating the streets of this unidentified small Wisconsin metropolis. “Godspeed, Mathew. Never give up.”
He made two quick turns and we lost the ground pursuit. The helicopter, however, stayed with us. When he skidded to a stop, Wyatt got out of the truck and pulled me out behind him. He pointed up and across the street to a lot where there was the skeleton of a building under construction. Steel beams stood in stacks. They created a maze of materials into which I could get lost for a bit. I nodded, understanding his idea. We embraced for a moment and then our pursuit came into view. I dashed off toward the site and he got back into the truck. They pulled away.
I was suddenly overcome by grief, knowing that I had said goodbye to my brothers for the last time. My muscles jittered and shook within my body. There was the sound of tires, breaks, revving engines. Someone called for me to halt.
And then night turned to dusk and the outside turned into the inside. I was suddenly tangled up with rubbery limbs and clothing and hair. I went to the ground, my speed cut off. I…we, for I had crashed into someone or many someones, rolled across a carpeted floor. Even though I knew that I had leaped, my mind couldn’t shift gears away from the pursuit. I could feel the adrenaline draining from my body, exhaustion setting in. This, too, was a new feeling.
Forced to slow down and control my movements, I became aware that the people with which I struggled were no more than mannequins. Unlike the plastic ones I had known in my lifetime, these were made of a fleshy elastic. I imagined that they filled out the clothing better and could be formed to mimic the contours and body styles of real humans. That, of course, is all meaningless really. Throughout the course of my adventures, I imagined this the one opportunity to consider the practicality of store dummies.
Someone was suddenly there to help me, asking me if I was all right, disentangling me from my predicament. It was a store salesman, dressed in a smart suit that looked, if anything, as if it had come out of a 1920’s gangster movie. He even wore a felt fedora. He was brushing me off, tremendously concerned for my welfare, completely unaware that I had just popped in out of the ether rather than just being a clumsy oaf.
“Jeremy!”
I turned at the sound of my brother’s name, hope rising within me. Was it possible…?
But no, a man in slacks and a cream colored sweater was rushing toward me, smiling and waving. He called me by my brother’s name once again and took charge of me from the clerk. Thanking my rescuer profusely, he led me quickly away from the scene, leaving the bemused young man to clean up the mess.
Where we were was a department store, not too different from any department store I’d ever seen. I had materialized in the women’s clothing department. There were a few people milling about, but the store was not crowded. I wondered what passed for money here.
My guide was pulling me quickly away from the area and draping a coat over my shoulders. It was more of a cape, than a coat. Though it buttoned up the front, it was sleeveless, the shoulders large enough to drape over my arms. It
was also sewn such that I could push them back over my shoulders and free my arms. The whole getup made me feel like a vampire or Jack the Ripper.
“Who are you?” I asked, trying to combat my shattered senses.
“My name is Akron Posner,” he said. “And you are Mathew Cristian?”
I tensed, having grown accustomed to protecting my identity. He must have sensed this because he simply continued talking. “It is September 19th, 2095. Your last leap was on July 12th, 2037. Do you remember?”
It was a ridiculous question. Of course I remembered. It had happened only moments ago. Moments ago I had been running for my life fifty eight years ago. Now Wyatt and Jeremy were surely dead, the consequences of their actions long since determined and dealt with. And what had changed? I was still running for my life. That much was clear by Akron Posner’s attitude and impatience.
“How did you know where I’d be?” I asked.
He waved his hand. “That’s child’s play for Dr. Kung. He had it pegged to within four feet. Can you imagine?”
Feet? I was more concerned with the years. Then it occurred to me that I had been on the street when I’d leaped. Now I was inside the building, presumably the very building that was under construction in 2037. I was being led away by a man I had never seen who had no way of proving…
“Did you say, Dr. Kung?” I fought to get hold of the memory of his first name. He was young then, just an intern. After fifty eight years he would be well into his eighties.
“Yes,” Posner answered, oblivious to my ruminations. “Dr. Philip Kung. He’s done a lot of research into your condition and…maybe he’d better take you through it himself.”
Philip. That wasn’t right. The Dr. Kung who I’d met had a name that started with an L. Lloyd? Larry?
“What happened to Lewis Kung?”
Posner laughed, pausing as we reached the department store exit. “He’s retired but living nearby. I’m sure he’ll want to see you.” When he made no further move to go into the street, I looked outside to see why and I was afraid.