It’s a little cooler tucked underneath the plant but my clothes are still sticking to me. I’m overcome with an urge to just get up and rip them off. It feels like I can’t breathe, like they’re suffocating me. I was dressed for warmth, not the horrible jungle.
I take a few breaths, trying to calm myself down. Now is not the time for panicking, now is the time for staying cool and just waiting out my time. I will be pulled away eventually, I’ll be fine.
A rustle comes from my left. My eyes shoot over to see what it is, expecting to see the man there. But it’s worse, much, much worse. A jet black jaguar is half-crouched amongst the plants. His teeth are bared as he stares at the man who is completely oblivious to the danger he’s in.
Just like an innocent little kitten, the Jaguar starts to pad his back feet as he gets ready to lunge for his next meal. I silently will the man to turn around and see him so he has a chance to run away. I doubt he could outrun the jaguar but he should at least have a chance. I’ve never seen a human being eaten by an animal before and I don’t want to start now. But if I warn him, I will be betraying my position.
It’s either my life or his.
My wide eyes flick back between the two of them, the whole things plays out like it’s in slow motion. I can’t sit here and watch any longer. I can’t bear to just let it happen right in front of me. Not when I have a chance to do something about it.
I stand up and yell at the top of my lungs, hoping they will be able to hear me like the pirates did. “Watch out!” I repeat, over and over again while pointing at the jaguar. The man springs into action as the others respond to my shouting.
The jaguar lunges but is too late, the man is joined by the others and runs. Instead of chasing after them, the animal turns his attention to me. I don’t need to wonder whether he sees me. I know the jaguar does without a shadow of a doubt. I start running as quickly as my feet can take me.
I race back the way I had come, away from the river in the opposite direction. I know I won’t be able to outrun one of the fastest animals on the planet but I have to try.
The jaguar easily catches up to me, bowling me over to the ground. But I never feel the thud from hitting the floor, instead I’m pulled away, engulfed in the white light. When I open my eyes again, I can barely understand where I am.
Chapter 6
Everything around me is a drab brown. The floor underneath my feet is just dirt and there is nothing growing on the plain. I am on a plateau with a few rocks and pebbles dotted around the sparse area. In the distance it’s more of the same—just brown nothingness.
I don’t know where in the world I am and the era is even less evident. I could be absolutely anywhere, at any time. If I see a dinosaur wandering down the plains, it probably wouldn’t surprise me. Knowing my luck, it would spot me and think of dinner.
My stomach rumbles with hunger but I can’t see anything that could even be passable as edible. It isn’t my biggest problem though, my knee is killing me. It never fully recovered from my fall when I hit the road and my running hasn’t helped. When the damn jaguar knocked me over, he only helped to jar it even more.
I sit down in the middle of the plateau, the sun is either setting in the distance or just coming up. I don’t care, it’s not like I can find any shelter or food anyway. My surroundings are just like I feel—barren and desolate.
Pulling my knees up, I wrap my arms around them and cradle myself. I wonder what my family is doing right now. I don’t know what time it is but I’m sure they are probably together doing something really normal that I would love to be doing.
And then there’s Noah, the only person across time and space that actually saw me as a living, breathing human being. I’ll probably never see him again but I would like to. We had something in those few moments we spent together—an understanding. He’s probably bouncing around in a time warp too. Definitely not thinking about me.
It starts to get darker so the sun must be going down. I’m suddenly tired as the tears start to well in my eyes. It’s scary being out here alone with no idea of anything at all. If something decides to attack me in the night, I’m powerless to stop them. I can’t even run at the moment with my aching knee.
I lie down, resting my head on my arm as a makeshift cushion. The ground is dusty and horrible, I’m definitely never going to feel clean again. I close my eyes, wishing to awaken somewhere else.
My dreams are vivid as I spend all night running from things—pirates, jaguars, tribal men, and everything else my imagination can conjure up to torture me. At least they never catch me, but the running makes me just as tired as if I was doing it in my waking time.
I jerk awake as I sense something looking at me. My eyes fly open as I try to get up. Strong hands hold me down and I have to blink to work out what is going on.
Even when I can clearly see him, I can still barely believe what I am seeing. Noah is kneeling over me, his hands on my arms as he prevents me from moving. He is just as I remembered him, his ink black hair flopping over his eyes.
“Noah?” I ask, needing to hear his voice to truly believe he is here with me. I do not trust my eyes.
“Hold still, you’re injured.”
I hesitate while I process what he is trying to tell me. I’m injured? My knee hurt but surely he wouldn’t know that just by looking at me. I stop struggling against his grip, I know he won’t do anything to hurt me. I have no basis for that conclusion, but I know deep inside it’s true.
I watch him as he does something to my knee, I can feel his hands as he adjusts my leg. I want to sit up and see what he’s doing but I continue to follow his instructions instead.
“Where have you been?” he asks. “You’ve cut your legs terribly.”
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
“You’re a time traveler too, right?” Noah looks at me, his head cocked to the side as he awaits my answer like his life depends on it.
I struggle to sit up, finally getting a glimpse of the makeshift bandage around my knee he had made. It looks like it was torn from a part of his shirt. It makes me smile. “Yeah, I’m a time traveler. Where have you been since France?”
He sighs and sits back on the ground. “Germany. World War Two. I almost got shot. You didn’t answer my question, where were you?”
“The last time I was in the jungle, but only briefly. Before that I was on a pirate ship for five days.”
Noah raises his eyebrow, it looks absolutely adorable. “Sounds like you had quite an adventure. How long have you been doing this?”
“Four years, ever since I was twelve. You?”
“Six years, I think.”
“You don’t know?”
“My memory is a bit foggy. I’m not really sure when I started. It feels like six years.”
He suddenly looks sad, like he’s remembering something. Perhaps he’s thinking about the first time he was pulled away? I know my first time was traumatic, wondering what on earth was going on and asking myself repeatedly what I had done to deserve such punishment. I don’t want to pry so I let it slide and change the subject instead. “How old are you?”
“Sixteen, same as you.”
“You started when you were ten?” I can barely believe it. I thought being twelve was bad enough, but ten years old? That would have been a nightmare. I could barely tie my own shoes when I was ten.
“Yeah, I think so,” he answers casually but I can see the pain in his eyes. Even though he is trying to hide it, I can’t help but notice. “So can other people see you?”
I shake my head. “Nope, only you. Except I think they can hear me now, some pirates heard my voice and freaked out. Plus, I helped a kid and he didn’t have any trouble hearing me.”
“People can’t see or hear me, they haven’t for a while.”
“It’s been a few years for me, too.”
I shift my weight and it sends a shooting pain down my leg. I obviously hurt it more than I first realized. I wince and Noah reac
hes for my leg. “Is the bandage too tight? Is it hurting?”
“No, it’s okay, I just didn’t realize…” I trail off as I make the mistake of locking eyes with Noah. He takes my breath away with his gorgeous looks. It’s like every emotion he feels is revealed in just one expression. I want to run my hands through his thick hair and kiss those adorably perfect lips. I don’t know where the thoughts come from, I haven’t noticed a boy like that in years—possibly ever.
“You should be more careful,” he warns me, breaking our trance. “You never know where you’re going to land next, you might need your leg.”
Like I didn’t know that already? Still, I can’t be annoyed with him, he captivates me too much. “I can look after myself.”
“I’m sure you can.” I don’t know whether he’s being sarcastic or not. “Have you figured out what’s going on?”
I’m confused about what he’s referring to. If it’s the way he makes my heart beat faster or the way I’m constantly fighting a blush rising in my cheeks, then yes I have figured out what’s going on. If he means anything else, I haven’t got a clue.
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“I mean, how come we can travel through time? And how do we make it stop? Do you know how to control it?”
So many questions and I don’t have an answer for any of them. “I have no idea what’s going on. All I know is that I’m being pulled from place to place and I really just want to go home.”
“Where’s home?”
“It was 2018 when I was there last.”
“You’re in the future. I’m pretty sure my home is in 2014.” It had never even occurred to me that we might be from different times. Four years isn’t much different, but it is still weird to think I would know things that hadn’t happened yet in his world. If only I’d paid attention to the lotto numbers.
“You said something when we were in France,” I start, remembering the time when we met. “You said that the times we visit were important. Have you figured out why we’re able to do this?”
He nods his head slowly, pursing his lips like he’s unsure whether he should tell me everything. He ends with a decisive nod, obviously making up his mind. “It’s only a theory, I don’t know if it’s real or not.”
“A theory is more than I have.”
“Before you started time travelling, what were you like?”
“What do you mean?” What did it have to do with what type of person I was? Was it something I did that really started all this? Just when I had convinced myself I wasn’t to blame too.
“I mean, were you shy? Did you not have many friends? Did you spend a lot of time alone?”
They are personal questions but I don’t have a problem answering them. I feel completely at ease with Noah, even if he does make my cheeks burn when I think of him. “Yes, I was shy. I had a few close friends but I did like spending time alone. What’s that got to do with it?”
“I think we started travelling when we weren’t connected to our lives. Like it wouldn’t matter if we stepped out of it for a while.”
“But I had a family.”
“I did too. But I didn’t care enough about the world around me, I was happy to leave them all. Of course, I didn’t appreciate what I had then like I would now.”
I don’t want to admit it, but I understand what he means. Even though I had family and a few friends, I didn’t really care about what went on around me. As long as I did my homework and stayed out of trouble, I shrank inside myself and forgot about everything else.
“So why do we keep going from place to place then?” I ask, wanting to hear every part of his theory before we’re torn away again. It could happen at any time, I’m sure we are both very aware of that fact as we talk.
“I think we are being taught a lesson on how to connect. Have you ever noticed that things kind of happen when you land in a new place?”
“Like what?”
“Like someone needs your help or you need to do something out of the ordinary?” Noah studies my face for a reaction. I must look blank because he continues on. “For example, when I was in Germany, there was this soldier. He was lying on the battlefield, shot. There was no-one else around, I couldn’t see anyone that could help him. I dragged him to the trenches where his comrades found him and administered first aid. As soon as he was found, I was pulled away and ended up here.”
I know exactly what he is talking about now. “In the jungle I stopped a man from being eaten by a jaguar. Before that, I saved a kid from being murdered by pirates.” I could go on and on with all the examples but I think he gets the point. I had never considered the acts to have any significance, I always just assumed they were things that just happened.
“And you said your voice is now able to be heard?”
“I think so, but only recently.”
“It’s the way we can find our way home,” Noah says as his eyes sparkle with hope. “We need to connect with people, to the world, so we can anchor ourselves back to our own time.”
“But when I first started to travel, I was connecting with people. I stopped because it was too difficult to leave them behind all the time,” I point out, remembering how difficult each goodbye was at the beginning.
“And then you became invisible?”
“Yeah, two years ago.”
“You gave up and disconnected even more. To reverse all this, we have to do the opposite.”
I have so many questions running through my mind, I can barely decide on which one to ask first. Unfortunately, I don’t get a chance for even one. I can feel the pull on my chest. I sit up quickly.
“I’m being pulled away, come with me.” I grab his hands, trying to hold on. He grips me right back, desperately trying to anchor us together. I can’t bear to be pulled away like this, not again. I don’t know if I’ll ever see him again and it pains me more than I can bear. I can’t be alone again, I just can’t.
“You’re leaving,” Noah shouts, knowing the white light is surrounding me now. “Stay with me.”
“I can’t.”
“Try, hang on.”
I grip him even tighter, holding onto his hands like he is my lifesaver and I’m swimming aimlessly in the ocean. The light is so bright I can barely see him through it. It hurts my eyes. I have to close them but I don’t let up my grip.
His hand slips from my own. I can feel his fingertips brush past mine as we are torn apart. We never stood a chance against the pull, it is far stronger than either of us put together.
A large gust of wind passes me into my next time and place. I am filled with dread as I await my fate. Soon, everything calms and I know I should open my eyes. The white light is no longer pressing against me, I need to see where I am and get to safety if I need to. I know all this very well, but it still doesn’t make it any easier to open my eyelids.
I finally gather enough courage, or perhaps it is just my will to survive, but I open my eyes and get a good look at where I am.
The round buildings in front of me are nothing like I’ve ever seen before. They are all a differing shade of gray, some even verge on being blue. The walls are curved, as are the windows placed at equal spaces. They are tall too, far taller than any building I’ve been in.
Running through my limited knowledge of the history of the world, I can honestly say I have no idea where I have been bounced to. Everything is so odd that I need to know, even if it’s just to satisfy my curiosity rather than ensure my safety.
I think part of the reason why I have this burning desire to understand my surroundings is because it keeps my mind occupied. It means I don’t have to think of Noah and our short time spent together. It really sucks being teased by his presence twice and only for a mere fraction of the time I want to spend with him.
I wonder where he went next? Did he think he would see me again after we met so briefly in France? Was I constantly plaguing his mind like he does mine? I hope so but I know I shouldn’t. Hope only leads to disappointment and I
know that all too well.
Someone pushes me from behind and pain jolts through my knee. I spin around quickly to see whether they have seen me or not. If the pirates could hear my voice and the jungle men could hear enough to chase me, then anything could be possible.
But the man behind me is already walking away, lost in his own problems. I sigh with relief, at least I’m not sticking out like a sore thumb. My feet start limping along the concrete sidewalk and I start to shiver. It’s cold here, far colder than even on the pirate ship.
I need clothes, for more reasons than just body heat. It’s embarrassing to think Noah saw me like this. I’m filthy dirty and probably look just as bad. I haven’t seen my reflection in a mirror for ages, probably more than a week. And considering it’s been that long since I’ve brushed my hair, I hate to think how scary I look. It’s a gift to those around that they can’t see me.
I ignore the rumbling in my stomach, my need for warmth, and my desperate loneliness. Cleanliness overrides it all. If I’m pulled away, I want to make sure I am comfortable first.
The tall buildings contain shops at the lower levels, some climb up a few stories. I’m in a city somewhere and the signs are in English so I know it has to be somewhere in the western world. At least that’s something, I will be able to understand the people around me. Not that anyone I pass is actually speaking. They aren’t even talking into cell phones as everyone in my own time does. The things are practically glued to everyone’s ear back home.
If it wasn’t the strange looking cars whizzing along quietly on the streets, there would be no sound. I wander into a mall, a covered arcade of shops on either side. A television screen is projected above the store signs. It’s playing the news at a much lower volume than I’m used to. It’s like they don’t agree with noise here, everything is as quiet as possible. I have to admit, I like it for a change. It’s peaceful, even if a little creepy at the same time. I haven’t seen one person talking to another yet.
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