Perfectly Timed

by Jamie Campbell

  “Are you okay?” he asks, probably after glimpsing my pale complexion, brought on by fear.

  “I thought you had been pulled away,” I say, one second before I wrap my arms around his neck and hug him tight.

  “No, strangely enough I’m still here.” We let each other go. “I thought you might be hungry so I went and got some food. You were looking so peaceful I didn’t want to wake you.”

  I notice the brown paper bag in his hands for the first time. My stomach grumbles with the thought of food. Even though the ball was overflowing with all types of goodies last night, I didn’t manage to eat one bite of it before I found Noah.

  He opens the bag and the aroma of fresh bread is overpowering. He pulls out two rolls and hands me one. I can’t speak for a moment until I eat. Noah does the same and we just enjoy the soft bread in silence.

  Finally, I manage to speak again. “How are we still here? Why haven’t we been pulled away?”

  “I don’t know,” Noah replies honestly. “I keep expecting to go at any second but I don’t feel the pulling. Do you?”

  I shake my head. “Not at all.”

  I’m sad to see the bread roll go but I finish it greedily anyway. At least the food in this time is good. If we do stay for a while I don’t think I’ll starve. Providing we can get better at stealing.

  Noah smiles at me with that mischievous glint in his eyes and I have no idea what he’s up to. It only makes me nervous and self-conscious. “What?” I ask, demanding to know what’s got him so amused.

  “Nothing.”

  “What?” I repeat when his smile doesn’t go anywhere.

  “I was just thinking about last night… when we kissed.”

  I feel my cheeks burn as I blush at the memory. Now I can’t stop smiling either. It was some kiss, even the memory of his lips on mine makes my stomach do back flips. “You don’t regret it?”

  He takes a step closer to me. “Why would I regret it?”

  I shrug, I don’t know why anyone would be that into me. I’m a bit of a hopeless case. “Because you only did it thinking we would be pulled away. You didn’t think we’d actually stay together for a night.”

  He takes a final step and closes the gap between us. Our bodies are pressed up against each other, his warmth making me burn. He cradles my cheek in his hand, making sure I can’t look away. “I would kiss you every day if I could.”

  With those words, he slowly—painfully slowly—leans down and kisses me. It’s not like the one last night. That was full of a desperate burning desire. This kiss is soft and gentle, like we have a lifetime of kisses ahead of us and there is no reason to rush this one.

  I melt into him, refusing to allow any space between us. He kisses me again and again, each one sending tingles through my skin. I can barely believe it is happening, perhaps this is a dream and I’ll wake up in some cave somewhere without him. I certainly hope not, I want this to be real.

  Suddenly, knocking brings me back to my body. Noah lets me go as he hears the same noise. We look at each other before jumping into action. Someone is trying to get into the building down below. It can’t be the owner or they wouldn’t be knocking.

  “What do we do?” I whisper to Noah, looking for any kind of idea he might have. We can’t leave or hide, the only thing we have are our wits.

  Noah hurries over to the window and carefully pulls back the burlap sack curtain. I tiptoe over to see too, trying not to make any noise. My uncomfortable shoes are lying on the floor, making it a little easier. I never want to put those torture devices back on again.

  Peeking out the window, we see a man on the ground below. He’s standing at the door of the building, pounding on it and trying the handle. I’ve seen him before. My whole body freezes.

  “Noah, it’s him.”

  He’s already ahead of me. “I know. We can’t get away, he’s going to find us.”

  “What does he want?”

  “I wish I knew,” Noah says solemnly.

  I pray the man can’t get through the door, that perhaps he just gives up and leaves us alone. But my prayers aren’t answered. Using his shoulder, he thumps at the door and it swings open easily. With one step, he’s inside and coming for us.

  The footsteps from below start getting louder and closer. I want to run away but there is nowhere to escape. I could try jumping out the window, if I broke the glass, but I doubt I would survive the landing without significant injury. I don’t even know if I would have the nerve to do it. Leaps of faith really aren’t my thing.

  Noah stands in front of me, between myself and the door. I don’t want him to get hurt but I don’t think I’ll exactly look like a formidable opponent either. At least he might have a chance of scaring off the man.

  We wait, staring at the door and expecting the inevitable to happen at any given moment. When the doorknob finally turns, we are both ready. For what, I’m not sure. But if I have to wait any longer I think I’ll die of fright anyway.

  The door swings open quickly, revealing the man in all his glory. He’s so big he nearly fills the entire doorway. He is exactly as I remember from the time I saw him at the barn. His dark eyes are beady, his beard quivers with menace. If looks could kill, we would both be lying dead on the floor already.

  “Leave us alone,” Noah demands, his voice loud and strong. I’ve never heard him so commanding before, I kind of like it.

  The man doesn’t reply, he just starts walking toward us. His legs are as thick as tree trunks, his arms intensely muscled. He could crush my throat with just one little hand movement. I hope he doesn’t get a chance but it’s all I can think of right now. He’s going to get us, we have no way to run. Or fight. Even with two against one, it isn’t a fair fight. We stand no chance against him.

  Noah pushes me back but it will only be a few steps before I am completely pressed against the wall. We’re just cornered rats with nowhere to go and no way to defend ourselves. It’s going to be painful and bloody, I don’t need to be psychic to know that.

  “Leave us alone!” Noah yells. The man doesn’t react, he doesn’t even flinch or acknowledge he’s heard him. It’s like he’s just a robot with his settings set to kill. I have never seen anything that menacing in my entire life. And I have seen some scary things.

  The man takes a swipe, his heavy hand connecting with Noah’s jaw. His head is almost spun around with the impact. I crouch down even further behind him. I think I felt every inch of the punch too. He can’t hurt Noah like this, I can’t let him.

  But what can I do? The man is four times my size, I’d be like a pesky fly that he would just swat away. He’s going to make mincemeat out of us and we’re both going to die without even knowing why.

  I’m never going to see my family again. They won’t know the truth about what happened to me. Noah’s family will suffer the same fate, they’ll spend their entire lives just not knowing. That has to be worse than hearing the truth.

  He takes another swing and I close my eyes, I can’t bear to see Noah hurt. Tears flood from my eyes as I wait to hear the inevitable crack as his knuckles hit the jawbone. I wait. And wait.

  It doesn’t come. Instead, I’m quickly pulled away. I feel myself letting go of Noah’s shirt, my feet lose grip on the ground. My chest is pulled, taking all the breath inside my lungs with it.

  As much as I want to leave the man, I don’t want to leave Noah. I’m not going to know if he is okay. What about if he doesn’t get pulled away? What about if he’s still there, being pummeled to death by a killing machine?

  I land with a thud in the new time, crashing straight to the floor with nothing to stop my fall. All the wind is knocked from my lungs—again. I open my eyes and push myself to sit up.

  I’m in a courtyard of dirt. Four walls made out of large white rocks surround me. A vine used to grow over everything here, the dead traces are still evident.

  A moan comes from behind and I spin around to see what made it. Noah is lying there, semi-conscious. I quic
kly kneel at his side. “Noah? Are you okay?”

  “What happened?” he says groggily. The bruise on his chin has already started to go blue and black. It’s going to be painful for quite a while.

  “We were pulled away. We’re here together, I’m with you.” As the words leave my mouth, I can hardly believe them myself and I’m fully conscious. We have never bounced to the same place together, every time we are parted. I can’t understand how we are together now, it just doesn’t make any sense.

  He opens his eyes and looks up at me. His hand follows his gaze to touch my face. “It’s really you.” I nod, unable to come up with any words to reassure him. “How? Why? I don’t… understand.”

  “Neither do I but let’s not question it.”

  A rustling noise on the other side of the wall takes my attention. I have no idea what time we’re in, and if history is anything to go by, we’re probably going to be in danger. “Noah, we need to find somewhere safe. Can you get up?”

  He nods, but I get the feeling he’s just trying to be brave. I have to help him to his feet and even then I try to take his weight on my shoulder. Panic is screaming at me in my head. If we were pulled away together, there is no reason why the man didn’t join us too. It could very well be him on the other side of the wall. I have no intention of finding out.

  I pull Noah’s arm around my shoulder, gripping his hand so he can’t fall away. I look around quickly, trying to find a way out of the courtyard. It looks like the only exit is a small alleyway that leads down beside one of the walls. I take Noah that way, hoping we’ll both be able to fit down the small space.

  We squeeze through. I refuse to let us stop at any point. We need to keep going, it’s the only option. The alley leads us to a wide street that is lined with buildings on either side. They are joined together with adjoining walls. Only the odd alleyway separates them. Even then, most of them have a heavy iron or wooden gate to stop anyone using them.

  We hobble through the street, all too aware that we stand out terribly against the pale walls. I haven’t seen anyone yet, but these buildings look nothing like the ones in the era we left. If the buildings are different, then the clothes will definitely be different too. We need to hide so we can work out how we can blend in without getting ourselves killed.

  “Over there,” Noah says, pointing to an area across the street. I don’t understand what he means but I go anyway. He knows a lot more about surviving than I do, I trust him.

  We cross the road and I get my first glimpse of a person. At first I worry that it’s the man, but another glance tells me I’m just imagining things. It’s a woman, a slight one at that. She’s dressed in a flowing dress that goes right to the floor. It’s made of white muslin with a mustard yellow layer over the top. Her hair is pinned back, loose curls hanging down over her face. We’ve gone back in time, probably a long way if my gut is right.

  Noah pulls his weight back off my shoulder as he gathers his strength again. I still don’t let go of his hand, just in case he’s not as strong as he thinks he is.

  He leads me to a small alcove, tucked onto the edge of a park. The thick trees skirting around the perimeter will give us a small amount of cover. It’s better than nothing and certainly better than walking around in the open for everyone to see.

  We sit with our backs to the alcove wall, trying to be as invisible as possible. “How’s your head?” I ask. My fingers gently touch the area, making sure there is nothing broken. I doubt there would be a hospital here that would be able to fix a broken bone.

  “It’s okay.” He tries his jaw, moving it side to side with a grimace. “I think it’s just sore. He got me a good one.”

  The sound of the impact still plays in my head, I can hear every second of the sickening noise. “Do you know what time we’re in?”

  “I’ve been here before, it’s the fifteenth century.”

  “That long ago?” I’m surprised we’ve gone back at least three hundred years. I don’t normally make such a giant leap. I guess all the rules have truly been broken now—if there were any to begin with anyway.

  Noah nods. “Did you see the man? Did he follow us?”

  “I’ve only seen a woman. If he was pulled too, then he didn’t land with us.”

  “Good.” That was the understatement of the day. “Are you okay? He didn’t get you at all?”

  “No, I’m fine. You protected me. Remember?”

  He closes his eyes and leans his head back on the wall. He’s adorable, even when injured. I wish I could take away his hurt and pain, he doesn’t deserve it.

  “Why would he want to kill us?” I ask, wishing someone had the answers to all my questions. I am so tired of only having questions.

  “Perhaps he’s the one causing all this,” Noah offers. “Someone’s got to be making us time travel, these things aren’t happening randomly.”

  He’s right, I always suspected there was someone pulling my strings. I never imagined it to be someone so menacing though. More like a big puppet master that was all seeing. Almost like a God. “How would he be doing it?”

  “I don’t know.”

  I can see Noah is still in pain, he needs to rest somewhere. Some painkillers wouldn’t go astray either but I’ve got no chance of finding any in this time. They used poultices made out of herbs and other natural remedies to cure their sick. A simple paracetamol would be completely foreign to them.

  “You need somewhere to rest,” I say, touching his forehead. He’s hot, his head sizzles underneath my touch. “Are you injured anywhere else besides your jaw?”

  He lifts his left arm. I didn’t realize he had been cradling it to his side. Blood has pooled underneath, a thick matt of it dried into his clothes.

  “How’d that happen?” I gasp, looking at all the blood. I’m surprised he was able to walk at all.

  “He stabbed me just as we left. I thought he was only going to punch me but then I saw the knife. I thought I was a goner.”

  I don’t like to admit that I did too. We definitely need somewhere to stay now. I need to get a good look at his wound and clean it. If it’s left to fester then it could get an infection and then it would be all over.

  “Wait here while I go look for somewhere to stay,” I say as I stand. He tries to protest but I’m not listening. He protected me and now I need to return the favor.

  I leave him in the alcove and venture into the town. I wish I was better at finding a home like Noah is. The last place he found was perfect, I need to find somewhere equally as safe.

  Chapter 16

  “Is this okay? I don’t think it’s been used for quite some time,” I say as I help Noah into the room. It took me hours of walking to find it and longer again to watch it for an inhabitant. The entire place had remained still, and when I went inside, sheets were draped over everything. This wasn’t how people normally lived, even in the fifteenth century.

  “It looks perfect,” Noah replies. I help him over to a chair and ease him into it. The white sheet isn’t going to stay white for long if his wound continues to bleed.

  I rummage around the one-room space and realize it’s an artist’s studio. Brushes line the tables, along with rags and palettes with dried paint spattered over them. I find the cleanest rag I can and douse it with some water from a dish. I doubt it’s as clean as I need it to be, but it will have to do. I return to Noah’s side and kneel down.

  “Take off your shirt,” I order. He looks at me, raising an eyebrow with a cheeky glint to his eye. “So I can clean your cut. I promise I won’t look at anything I’m not supposed to.”

  He starts to undo the buttons. “You can look all you want, as long as you can handle it.”

  I go to make a smart comment but stop, realizing he might have a point. Noah’s shirt was hiding strong muscles, a chest that any bodybuilder would be proud of. A six pack ripples, marred only by the slice of red on the left side. I try to focus on the cut, it needs my attention more than anything else.

 
“It doesn’t look very deep,” I comment as I dip the rag in water and gently dab at the skin. He flinches with each touch. The gash is at least three inches long but I think it’s only superficial. He could probably do with a few stitches but nothing more. If he takes it easy for a few days, it should heal without further intervention. Providing it doesn’t get infected.

  “Did they have rubbing alcohol in the fifteenth century?” I ask, thinking that would be one way to sterilize the wound.

  “I don’t know, but I’ll be fine without it.”

  “It would be better if you had it.”

  “Just wrap it up,” Noah says, losing patience. I tear strips off one of the sheets and wrap it around his torso several times. It’s not really going to do much but it makes me feel better for having done something. I help Noah put his shirt back on—reluctantly.

  Sun shines in through the dusty windows, I don’t think they’ve ever been cleaned. I wander around the single room, snooping. I’m also looking for anything that might be helpful to have. My backpack is still in the storage shed in our last time, never to be seen again.

  “This place is amazing,” I comment, seeing the multitude of painting paraphernalia that’s here. Whoever owns this place is a professional, they’ve obviously invested a lot of money into their craft.

  Noah joins me, looking over my shoulder. I don’t know if he should be moving around yet but I’m not going to order him about. “There have to be hundreds of brushes here.”

  “If not thousands.”

  “We’re in the Renaissance period, I wonder if these all belong to one of the great painters?”

  “Like Leonardo Da Vinci? Can you imagine if we’re standing in his studio? That would be so cool.” I almost trip over another of the sheets and bump my knee. The cover falls off, revealing the paintings underneath. There has to be a dozen of the things, all lined up in a row. Some are painted on wood, others stretched canvas. It looks like the artist paints on whatever he can get his hands on.

  “That’s beautiful,” Noah coos as he joins me. We both crouch down to get a better look at them.