Time Spent

by J. David Clarke

  "I want only what is best for you, Savage." Gwendolyn ran her hands through the fur that matted his arms.

  "Don't call me that!"

  "Why not?" She leaned close. "It is who you are, who you were always meant to be. You feel it, don't you? That urge to let go, lose all thought and run wild, to climb, to jump, to grasp that which you want, to crush anything in your path."

  Simon put his hands to his face. "I...yes. I do. God help me."

  "I am here, Simon. I have come to your aid."

  ______________________

  "Mr. Chu," a woman's voice said.

  Harold had just closed the passenger door behind his son, Simon, when she approached from the main doors at the front of the school. She had long red hair, clipped back, and wore glasses and a white blouse with dark slacks.

  "Yes?"

  "May I have a word with you? It's about," she lowered her voice, "Simon's school work."

  Harold instructed Simon to wait in the car and followed the woman several paces away. "You are one of Simon's teachers?"

  "Call me Gwendolyn," she said, shaking his hand.

  Harold frowned. He did not consider this appropriate, but he had been told often enough that he was old-fashioned. "Gwendolyn. What is this about Simon's work?"

  "He's falling behind, Mr. Chu. Slipping behind his classmates." She shook her head sadly. "He just isn't keeping up."

  Harold put a hand to his chin. "Why? What does he have trouble with?"

  "Science, mostly. I think he lacks motivation," she said. "He just doesn't seem interested. To be honest," she added in a conspiratorial whisper, "he seems more interested in...sports."

  "Sports?" Harold's eyes widened. "Oh no. No. Not my Simon."

  "I feel the same way, believe me. All the hitting and kicking, kids get hurt, sometimes permanently. It's just so...physical..." her voice trailed away strangely.

  Harold cleared his throat. "Yes, well, I shall see to it that it is clear to Simon that he must focus on his studies."

  "Here," she held out a book. "I thought this might help. It's full of fun information and projects for kids. He could use it to enter the Science Fair." The book had a colorful cover with the words WONDERS OF SCIENCE at the top.

  "Thank you." Harold took the book and perused it. "That is most thoughtful of you. If more teachers should take such a personal interest in their students, American education would be on much more solid ground."

  "Oh, I do what I can," she said with a smile.

  Harold turned to go.

  "Education is important, Mr. Chu," she called after him. "It's what separates us from savages."

  ______________________

  Gwendolyn raged, but her howls were lost in the void as the rift closed and form was once again denied her. NO!! Her body, her precious body, dissolved away and she was again shapeless, a cascade of energy lost in an endless void.

  All was not lost, however. She could still see the cracks in the barrier, time fractured beyond repair, space and reality holding together by the thinnest of threads. She could slip a measure of her power through the cracks, reaching into their world to find the tools she needed to destroy her enemy.

  First, she knew, she needed study. For so long her only enemy had been the Tyrant, the master of time and space who had sent her to the void and locked her out of his universe so very long ago. The Tyrant had taken her world from her and consigned her to eternity as one of The Lost. Now she had a new enemy, and she knew she had to understand him if she were to bring about his destruction.

  She peered through the cracks in time, examining the life of Kevin Lloyd.

  ______________________

  From somewhere to Ryan's right, a spotlight activated. Kevin and Becca turned toward it, covering their eyes. Ryan tried, but couldn't turn his head.

  A shot rang out, and Becca fell, her head a ruined red mess on the pavement.

  The green eyes vanished from Ryan's eyes, and he fell to the ground.

  "Stop!" Kevin cried. "Why are you doing this?"

  Ryan lifted his head, his exhausted muscles in agony. Until now, he hadn't realized how hard his body had been fighting itself. He could barely move.

  A second shot rang out, and Ryan thought he saw Kevin's head flinch, but he was unharmed.

  "Why?" Kevin shouted again.

  A third shot rang out, and then a fourth, and fifth, Kevin flinching each time. Shots rang out faster and faster, like microwave popcorn cooking to a crescendo. Bullets slid off Kevin's body, riddling the car, the motorcycle, the bridge itself.

  Kevin closed his eyes, and was gone.

  Ryan turned his eyes toward the spotlight now, blinded, terrified, and his vocal chords finally, finally began to obey him.

  "Nnng. Nunngghh! NNNN!! NOOOOOO!!"

  A final shot sounded.

  Ryan felt as though a bowling ball had struck his chest. He looked down to see blood welling from a hole dead center. He looked up in disbelief, mouth open. That red-haired bitch, oh god, what was her name? WHAT WAS HER NAME?

  As his head fell back, one final word slid from his mouth.

  "Gweeeeennnndolynnnnn...."

  "Run the plates on the car and motorcycle," said a man in a white lab coat. Soldiers responded, moving in on the two vehicles. "Get those bodies loaded in the truck. Take them back to the base, I need them in my lab."

  "Sir," One of the soldiers stopped cold. "One of the bodies...it's gone!"

  "What do you mean gone?"

  ______________________

  The rain and wind came harder now. Gwendolyn threw out her arms and twirled, lost in the sensation. "It's so lovely, isn't it? To feel the rain on your skin, to feel it soak your clothes. Hot, sticky, moist. To dance with the wind. I wonder if lightning will strike me? That would be magnificent."

  Brandon looked around at the others. They looked just as confused by her behavior as he did, with the exception of Carl. He had locked eyes on Gwendolyn from the moment she arrived and had not looked away since. Brandon wasn't even sure he was blinking.

  "Bard!" She held out a hand. "Dance with your Queen!"

  They looked at each other uncertainly.

  Gwendolyn laughed. "Tyler Chambers, you are the entertainer are you not? The man whose body and voice are his art? Dance with me."

  "I don't...I mean, you want me to...dance with you? Why?"

  "Why?" Gwendolyn tilted her head to the side. "This is a strange question from a dancer. Why does one ever dance? Because it's expressive, it's moving, it's pleasurable."

  "I guess..." Tyler stepped forward.

  Gwendolyn threw her arms around him and pulled him into the circle's center. "You have never been shy with women. Don't start now."

  Tyler slipped his arm around her back, the other holding her outstretched hand. He led her in a simple box step, turning her in a circle. "I'm not entirely sure you're a woman at all," he said.

  "Don't be rude," she said with a smirk. "It's true for billions of your years I left my physical form behind, but I assure you," she delivered a playful nibble to the tip of his nose, "I was a woman, and I have done nothing for all those years but dream of being one again."

  "But you weren't...human. You aren't human."

  Gwendolyn released him, pushing him away. "Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, Tyler. Remember that."

  ______________________

  Almost there, Marcus thought, turning the wrench again. A few more turns and he'd have the lamp secured.

  "Marcus," a voice called.

  "Yeah."

  "Need your help here."

  "Okay just a minute, almost finished."

  He turned the wrench, tightening the nut. Finally he could turn it no farther. "Okay, job done. On my way."

  He walked out through the backstage doors.

  Once the stage was empty, Gwendolyn appeared. She approached the lamp, fingering the bolts that held it in place.

  ______________________

  "What about them?" Heather gesture
d to Katie and the others, still standing mute in a ring around them all. "What have you done to them? Why aren't they acting like themselves?"

  "The Mirror is concerned for those around her." Gwendolyn smiled. "Not unexpected, for without her subjects, who is she?"

  "I know who I am," Heather said.

  "Do you?" Gwendolyn raised her chin, casting an appraising glance upon her. "Gratifying to know. Who are you, then, my Mirror? Daughter of Sarah, friend of Katie, lover of Simon. Without them, who are you?"

  "I am not nothing," Heather said. "No matter what you try to make me think, I am not nothing."

  "Try to make you-" Gwendolyn's eyes turned sorrowful. "The wind rises, and you threaten to blow away. What you think has nothing to do with me."

  Heather balled her fists defiantly, but said nothing.

  "As to your question, my Emissaries understand what must be done." Her eyes flared. "They know their place."

  ______________________

  "That scotch ain't gonna drink itself, ya know."

  Sarah McDonnell looked up from her glass, the same glass she had been staring at for a half an hour. A red haired woman sat on the stool next to her. She wore a tight black shirt and blue jeans, with a black Harley Davidson belt.

  Sarah tried to smile, but couldn't. "I know, I'm just...I don't know what I'm doing here."

  "Gettin' your drink on, looks like!" The woman laughed. "Call me Gwendolyn," she said, extending a hand.

  Sarah shook it gingerly. "Sarah."

  "So Sarah, let's get this party started!" She waved to the bartender. "Gimme two of whatever this wild woman is having."

  "I'm not...I don't know if I'm drinking it."

  "Well you're not painting your house with it, girl." She lifted her glass. "I say we get trashed and find us some boy toys!"

  This did make Sarah laugh, but bitterly. There wasn't a man in the bar she hadn't let pick her up at one time or another. "I just had an argument with my daughter is all. I probably shouldn't even be here."

  "Kids," Gwendolyn said. "I got a couple thousand of 'em. Always think they know better than you."

  A couple thousand? "Well, she just...she's too much like me, I think. That's the problem, too much like me."

  "What's wrong with being like you? You're too down on yourself, Sarah. You're fine just the way you are."

  "You don't know."

  "I know your kid managed to get inside your head and make you doubt yourself. That's what they do. But you're the parent. You tell her what to do, not vice versa. Right?"

  "Maybe."

  "Maybe nothin'. HELL yeah. And you can start right here. Don't let someone else tell you who you are or what you did wrong. Seize the god damn day, you know what I mean?" She held up her glass again.

  Sarah put her hand on the glass, but didn't lift it.

  "Don't leave me hangin', Sarah! Let's go!"

  Sarah lifted the glass, and clinked hers to Gwendolyn.

  "That's my girl! You got this!"

  They drank their shots together, and Gwendolyn slid the second shot in front of her.

  ______________________

  She knew she could not simply kill her enemy in his past. She had encountered him at full power, to destroy him in the past might unravel her own existence. Additionally, this Kevin Lloyd had been part of one of her failed experiments to create a rift. His "school bus" had been the first to pass through such a rift. But he and his other fellow primitives had not tapped into the energies of the void, or so she thought. How had this one come to be in another reality?

  Looking along his timeline, she saw the answer. Something had snatched him from his world while the rift was open a second time and exchanged him for the Kevin who belonged to this reality.

  Had she lips in the formless void, Gwendolyn would have smiled. This was the key to her victory. She would become the cause of this exchange! She reached through the cracks with what energy she could, stretching into the past and using her power to frighten the other Kevin, goad him into using his new power. Untrained as he was, his power snapped too far, sending him into the void and pulling his alternate self away from home. The other Kevin landed in his world, ensuring that he and Gwendolyn would eventually meet, and at the same time giving her a pawn to use against him.

  Victory was hers, and it had begun before the insect even knew she existed.

  ______________________

  Ryan opened his eyes, or what passed for eyes. He was floating, suspended in a place that wasn't really a place at all. Blackness surrounded him, directionless, no up or down, and suspended in the blackness beside him was a coruscating form of red energy. It pulsed and glowed, and seemed to be coiling around him.

  Even stranger, he was no longer himself. Looking at himself, he found that his body appeared as a milky white cloud.

  What's happening? Oh god I'm dead! I'm dead!

  OH NO, RYAN. YOU'RE NOT DEAD. I PROMISED YOU, REMEMBER?

  That voice. He looked at the red energy, and as he watched it coalesced and became the red-haired woman he had met at the club, or someone very similar. This version radiated energy and had bright, glowing red eyes. Am I dreaming? This can't be real.

  Her eyes twinkled. IT MAY SEEM SO. BUT THOUGH I HAVE NO TRUE FORM HERE AND AM MERELY AN IMAGE, THIS IS BETTER THAN A DREAM. WHEN I'M FINISHED YOU'LL HAVE THE POWER TO HAVE ANYTHING YOU WANT. I TOLD YOU, YOU'RE GOING TO LOVE SERVING ME. NOW I MUST FOCUS. UNLIKE THOSE WHO CROSSED THE VOID BY ACCIDENT, I WILL GUIDE THE ENERGIES YOUR BODY ABSORBS. I MUST GUIDE THEM JUST RIGHT, OR YOUR POWER WILL BE AS USELESS AGAINST HIM AS MINE.

  Power? What do you mean? I don't know what's going on.

  SHHHHH. HUSH NOW, RYAN. THINK ON THOSE WHO WRONGED YOU. THINK ON THE BLONDE GIRL.

  Ryan remembered the helpless feeling as the blonde girl had invaded his mind. The awful things she had made him do, the pain, the humiliation. That fucking bitch.

  THAT'S IT. FOSTER THAT ANGER, NURTURE IT UNTIL IT IS WHITE HOT INSIDE YOU. SOON YOU WILL HAVE THE POWER TO DESTROY ALL THOSE WHO WRONGED YOU, TAKE WHATEVER YOU DESIRE FROM ANYONE WHO WOULD KEEP IT FROM YOU. YOU'D LIKE THAT, WOULDN'T YOU?

  Take whatever he wanted? Ryan liked the sound of that.

  YES. YESSSSSSS. TAKE IT, FORCE IT, SEIZE IT, PUNISH THEM. PUNISH THEM ALL.

  Energy, guided by Gwendolyn and pulled by his desire, flooded into him.

  CLAIM YOUR POWER, MY SERVANT, AND TAKE YOUR PLACE AMONG THE LOST.

  ______________________

  Becca looked at Carl. He had started to tremble, very slightly at first, but was now visibly shaking. He continued to stare at Gwendolyn, his eyes unmoving.

  WWHAT ARE YOU DOINGG?

  He made no reply.

  AARE YOU OKAY, YOU LOOK LIKE YOU'RE HAVING A HEART ATTACKK

  "I believe the Fortune Teller is studying me." Gwendolyn put an arm around her. "I find the attention so flattering, don't you?"

  Becca wanted to pull back, Gwendolyn's touch made her skin crawl, but she dared not.

  "I asked you a question, Princess. Don't you find the attentions of men flattering? Or women, in your case. You enjoy either, don't you?" She was so close Becca could feel Gwendolyn's breath on her neck.

  "Usually I do, yeah. Sometimes not."

  Gwendolyn laughed. "I love a good barb, and you always have one at the ready. Relishing the crack of the psychological whip, tearing at the ego as substitute for flesh."

  "Yeah that's me, lion tamer of the soul."

  Gwendolyn removed her arm, but turned to face Becca, her eyes gone suddenly cold. "Some lions cannot be tamed, my Princess. Some will remain ever wild. Consider that before cracking your whip."

  ______________________

  "Another whiskey."

  "Don't you think you've had enough," the bartender asked.

  Hal Shepherd tapped the bar with his finger.

  The bartender sighed and produced another shot glass, filling it with whiskey.

  Shepherd tipped back the shot glass and downed it in one gulp.
He placed the shot glass on the bar and sat with his eyes closed, feeling the burn down his throat.

  "What's your name?"

  A woman sat on the bar stool next to him. She had long, curly red hair and was wearing a slinky, low cut red dress.

  "No offense, ma'am, but I'm not really fit for company tonight."

  She smiled. "I only asked your name. You can at least tell me that much."

  "Shep. They call me Shep."

  "Very nice to meet you, Shep." She extended a hand. "You can call me Gwendolyn."

  Shepherd tapped the bar again to get the bartender's attention. "Gwendolyn, I apologize but I'm in no fit mood for company tonight. Something happened, and I...I couldn't handle it. Can't handle it. I don't know."

  "Aww." She rubbed his arm. "Is it too late to do something about it?"

  Shepherd considered. "No...maybe, I...no. No! It's not!" Shepherd turned around in his stool and stood. For a moment, it appeared he might fall back to his stool, but Gwendolyn reached out and took his left arm, steadying him.

  "Every problem has a solution," she said. "Trust me, I find solutions to mine all the time, just like that."

  "Thank you," he said. "I have to go talk to someone, tell her...tell her everything's okay."

  She rubbed his left arm. "Good night, Shep."

  "Night." He took a step, then stopped, rubbing his arm in the place she had touched. It stung there. "Ah...ow..." He walked a bit further. A massive jolt hit his arm, running up it into his chest. "AHH!" He clutched his arm. Another jolt. Shepherd went down, face first, knocking over one of the small tables on his way to the floor.

  "Are you okay?" The bartender ran around the bar and knelt down, rolling him over. "Call 9-1-1! Somebody call 9-1-1 right now!"

  ______________________

  Max appeared next to Gwendolyn, growling.

  "Ah, the Ghost approaches. Have you a concern, my forgotten one?"

  Max concentrated, and the collars appeared, their chains stretching into the sky, reaching into the void.