The Traveler's Quest (The Traveler Series 2)

by L. Eira

  “That’s one thing that hasn’t changed at all in four decades,” said Mackenzie. “The night sounds. Still as peaceful today as it was in 2013.”

  Zack stirred the fire with a stick. “But it won’t be long until the ugliness of war reaches into this forest, as it has into all the cities in the world, big and small.”

  “The war is quiet tonight,” she said. “I haven’t heard any—”

  She was interrupted by a series of loud thumps in the distance. Her insides vibrated to the core.

  “You spoke too soon, little sister,” said Zack. “The war is alive and well, but people need time to reload now and again.”

  “Do you really think the world will end?”

  Zack nodded. “You heard the report earlier. The scientists predict that Earth will enter the point of no return—Armageddon—in another six months, if the fighting doesn’t end. You saw the e-news just like I did. New York, California, DC, Chicago, and many others cities are completely obliterated already. Our little town has been relatively spared, but that won’t last forever. General Harvey Homer will stop at nothing to destroy the world.”

  Outside, another barrage of distant explosions struck.

  Mackenzie cringed reflexively. When the detonations ceased, she continued. “Someone said that they heard General Homer was going to destroy his own birth city last. He wants its people to bear witness to it all and for them to be the ones who suffer the longest as he destroys the world bit by bit.”

  “Yeah, and do you know where the general’s from?” asked Zack.

  “Right here,” said Mackenzie. “Zionsville, Indiana.”

  Three hours into their much-needed deep slumber, Zack and Mackenzie reached the deepest point of their sleep cycle. Next to the smoldering fire pit, the little albino girl with the red dress and black shoes sat cross-legged, her gaze on the twins, her head slightly cocked to one side. Then she got up and strolled deep into the woods.

  Zack woke up to a deep, muffled thud that shook his insides. He opened his eyes and sat up, his mind still in a fog. Another rumble, this one nearer, quaked the ground. Zack looked around for the direction of the explosions. He was no longer on the makeshift bed he had fashioned out of brushes and tree leaves the previous evening.

  “They’re already at it,” he said softly. “Bright and early! Couldn’t wait another minute to start up the…” His word dissipated into nothing as he looked at where Mackenzie had lain down to sleep a few feet from him. She too was gone, as was the improvised bed he’d created for her. What’s going on here? he thought. He got up and looked around the clearing and then into the woods. As he surveyed the surroundings, his gaze fixed on the fire pit. Where’s the campfire? The fire hadn’t died down overnight; it was never there. No cold, gray powdery matter on the bottom of the pit, no residue from burned-out embers, no ashes. Nothing.

  Another barrage of explosions in the distance menacingly trembled the earth underneath his feet.

  “Mackenzie, where are you?” He stepped back into the cave’s mouth. “Mackenzie, are you in the cave?”

  Just an echo of his words returned.

  He fished in his belt purse and produced the proximity-alert app. He studied its screen, knowing his twin sister would be somewhere around the campfire. Did you go to the river to get water for coffee? Or berries for breakfast? he thought.

  “Nobody for twenty meters,” he whispered to himself. He touched the screen. “Same for fifty meters.” His stomach revolted. Where are you, Mackenzie? His pulse quickened in his chest. “Nobody for a hundred and fifty meters? Where are you, Mackenzie?”

  The first thing Mackenzie realized when she awoke from deep sleep was that she was no longer sleeping on the nice cushiony bed of grasses and leaves Zack had made for her. She was now lying prone on gravel and dirt. To her left was the entrance into the cavern. She walked out of the cave and into the clearing. Zack was not there. The fire pit was gone—no embers, no evidence of last night’s burning wood. Perplexity overcame her.

  She searched right outside the cave and looked as deeply into the woods as her vision allowed. “Zack, where the hell are you?” she yelled. An eerie feeling crawled up her spine. “Zack, where are you?” She immediately got on her feet and looked around. “Zack!” She yelled all around in a circle, both her hands around her mouth, hoping her shouts would carry to wherever he was. “Zack!”

  Only the noises of the woods returned—the wind rustling up the tree branches, the chirping of birds, the river water flowing through the woods a few yards away. But what she didn’t hear were the chilling-to-the-bone thumps of bombs spraying out destruction and death or the low-flying aircraft dishing out annihilation and ruin.

  She checked her proximity-alert app. No Zack. No one within 250 meters. Then she checked the iFacts app. Nothing. Then she checked the e-news app. No connection.

  Did they destroy the Global Net? Is the whole wide world gone but my little bitty cave and me? she mused. But where’s Zack? Where could you have gone, Zack? I know you wouldn’t leave me by myself.

  Mackenzie touched the screen of her handheld and noticed a faint signal.

  “Twenty-two point one megahertz?” she said aloud. “What the heck? This is an old-time AM radio signal. We don’t use those anymore.” She moved the virtual dial on her screen. “No, no, no! No way.”

  A scratchy man’s voice came in and out through the poor reception. “Soccer…Neymar…transferred to Barcelona…fifty-four million…teammate Messi…2013 season.” As Mackenzie fuddled with the unit, the voice on the transmission became more easily decipherable. “The weather report for today shows unseasonably high temperatures in the—”

  Mackenzie shut off the unit. “Goddamn it; I’m stuck in 2013 all by myself.” She kicked a rock, sending it into the tree line. “Why? Who?” She paced around, stomping her feet. “Why the hell am I here?” Her eyes teared, and her blood boiled with anger. “What am I doing here alone?” she yelled. Furious, she sat against a large oak trunk. The sun shone from high above the clearing, soothing her. “What am I doing here?” she repeated, this time in a soft whisper. “I was brought here for a reason. But what?” She fished out her iFacts app. “May 27, 2013.” She searched for useful information. Any clue. “Uncle Brent’s sixteenth birthday is May 29, 2013.” She smirked and took a deep breath. “I think I need to go buy him a birthday gift.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Future Ellie and the teenagers finished breakfast. They stood around the fire pit, coffee cups and fast-food breakfast in their hands. The flames of the small bonfire were going strong, their radiant heat soothing the bite of the morning chill.

  Younger Ellie crouched down and picked up a small stick. She began to write with it on the ground. She drew two circles and labeled them Earth and moon. Just like her handwritten message inscribed on the flat surface of the rocks inside the cave, she drew an arrow from one circle to the other. “Arrow from Earth to moon,” she whispered to no one, though the others approached her quietly. “One hundred and thirty-eight years and one hundred and eighty-four years…” She wrote these under the arrow. Then she looked up at the others. “Why would I have written these two figures on separate rocks in the cave? And, more importantly, why don’t I…” She looked down at the drawing and then back at the others. “Why don’t any of us remember any of it?”

  “I’m telling you; the little girl is screwing with us,” said William. “She has some wicked powers, and she’s screwing with all of us. Hell, she’s screwing with the whole planet!”

  “That may be true,” said Younger Ellie. “But why? How does she benefit from any of this?”

  The five of them looked from one to the other, puzzlement embedded in their gazes.

  “How do you conjure up the little girl?” asked Brent. “If she has the answers, let’s ask her.”

  “Be afraid,” said William. “Be very afraid! The creepy little girl is not your friend, Brent. I wouldn’t trust anything she says or does. In fact, we have to
figure out how to destroy her.”

  “I don’t think that, William,” said Older Ellie. “There has been no indication she wants to harm us. And we don’t conjure her up, William. She appears in our dreams when she wants to. In the beginning, I, too was afraid of her. I tried to force myself to not dream of her or think about her. But the vivid dreams when she appears, I found, are unstoppable. But she’s helped—”

  William interrupted her. “Can you honestly say without any doubt that there isn’t a possibility that the creepy little girl isn’t causing all these problems? Or perpetuating them?”

  “No,” said Older Ellie. “In my mind, there is some doubt about her motives. I have thought about the possibility that she may be harming us, but…” Her words trailed off.

  “We need to keep that in mind,” said William. “She may be causing us harm. She may be the reason Earth is on a path to Armageddon.”

  The four looked at the ground.

  Older Ellie bit her lower lip and interrupted the silence. “For now, I suggest we stay on task. The next step is for us to clear William of the murder charges. Otherwise, we know he’ll end up in jail with an awful future.”

  Detective Sparks entered the office of detectives at the police headquarters. The room had three desks, a large whiteboard, and two windows, but no detectives.

  “Where’s a goddamn detective when you need one?” he said to no one in the room. He sat at his desk and placed his feet and the evidence bag on the tabletop.

  “Hello, Detective Sparks,” said Sally, a woman with big bosoms and derriere, bright-red lipstick, and blond hair, lots of dark roots visible.

  “Ah, there’s the most beautiful secretary in the world.”

  “Cut out the bullshit, Detective,” she said while chewing gum. “What do you want from me?”

  “Go see how quickly the gatherers can give me fingerprints on this gun,” he said. “I need them yesterday.”

  “Aren’t you fellas supposed to do your own evidence-taking-to-the-lab thing?” she retorted. “The chain of command, blah, blah, blah.”

  “Come on, do an old man a favor. My feet are killing me.”

  “It’s not me, Detective,” said Sally. “It’s Captain’s orders. Didn’t you get the memo? The detective working the case must deliver evidence blah, blah, blah. You have to sign the stuff out in the lab—”

  A timid knock on the door interrupted her.

  “Detective Sparks, remember me? Misty Shores from the crime lab?” She entered the room and looked all around. “My, this is a men’s room, isn’t it? I don’t mean like a bathroom for men. I mean, this room needs a woman’s touch. Oh, I don’t mean you, dear. You’re a woman. But you don’t touch up the room. Give it the woman’s touch. No, this room is a room of men.” Misty whispered toward Sally. “Men have an aversion to order and balance. But you’re probably too busy to give it the woman’s touch. And—”

  “Ah, yes, Misty,” said Sparks, getting up from his chair. “Here’s that gun. Can you take it to fingerprints for me right away? I want you to give it to Kirk Kigler. He’s the main fingerprint guy. I want him to do the testing. Is that understood?”

  “Of course, Detective. I’m happy to do that for you.” She took the clear plastic evidence bag containing the revolver. “Wow! Is that the gun? This is the gun that killed that young man. It gives me the chills!” Misty turned to Sally. “This is the second time I’ve been near this weapon. And I get the chills. Any gun or knife or bat or rock, well any weapon that takes a life, gives me the chills. So I always have the chills. I work crime scenes. I’m chilled all the time.” Misty began chuckling, her crescendo donkey’s bray laughter reverberating through the large room.

  “Enough,” yelled Sparks. “Take this gun. Fingerprints. Now!”

  “Sure thing, you’re the boss, and I—”

  “Not another word. Go!”

  Misty took the evidence bag from Sparks and left the detective room in a hurry, a smirk on her face. She entered a closet down the hall, first making sure that she remained undetected. The place was pretty deserted, all hands searching for the teenagers gone rogue, she supposed.

  When Older Ellie arrived back in the cave, she first dished out the fast-food orders to the teens.

  “How did Dad’s Chevy do for you?” asked Brent.

  “It’s great! I’m sure glad your dad’s away,” said Older Ellie. “It comes in handy to have a vehicle.”

  “So were you successful with the gun?” asked William.

  “Yes, I got the evidence bag from Detective Sparks. Took it in a closet and changed the fingerprints.”

  “I can’t believe you can do that,” said William.

  “It’s very simple, actually, with the right app,” said Older Ellie. “This simple app made forensic fingerprint analysis obsolete overnight.”

  “What did you do with the gun after that?” asked Younger Ellie.

  “Took it to the fingerprint-analysis department in the CSI lab. I told them Sparks asked me to bring it to them. Nobody suspected anything.” Older Ellie put her bag of food down and changed her demeanor, now playing the role she played earlier at the police station. “Detective Sparks, I’m Misty Shores, the new CSI dactyloscopy technician. I love to analyze fingerprints on deadly weapons. That means guns and knives and bats and clubs and rocks and anything else used to steal a human life.” This acting stint generated massive laughter, a remedy the group craved at that moment.

  The group spent a long while discussing the different options to overcome the many real or perceived obstacles. They sat around the fire pit right outside the cave. The day had remained cold despite the wind having calmed down considerably over the last hour or so. The weatherman on the radio declared that the chances of rain were nil. Brent and William placed more wood into the fire. The swelling of the exuded warmth lessened the bite of the night chill.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  A high-pitched shriek resonated from somewhere deep in the woods. Koo eeky…koo eeky. Then a moment of silence. The tree branches rustled against each other with the passing wind. Then the noise again: koo eeky.

  Older Ellie sat up. In front of her, live embers still radiated some heat in the fire pit. She got on her feet and looked into the forest surrounding her. As she circled back slowly toward the mouth of the cavern, she noticed the young albino girl standing there, her arms to her sides.

  “Alexandra,” Older Ellie said, “I was hoping you would come.”

  Brent and William sat up next and noticed Older Ellie and the child. Brent touched Younger Ellie’s shoulder, bringing her out of sleep. The teenagers got up on their feet. Behind them, Zack and Mackenzie stood up as well.

  “Thank you for saving our lives,” said Mackenzie.

  Alexandra’s gaze met Mackenzie’s for a moment, and then returned to Older Ellie.

  “Are we dreaming?” asked Younger Ellie.

  “Yes,” said Older Ellie. “Zack and Mackenzie, where or when are you?” Her stare turned toward the twins.

  “2059,” said Zack.

  “2013,” said Mackenzie.

  “But if you’re in 2013, why aren’t you here with us?” asked William.

  “What day exactly in 2013?” asked Brent.

  “I don’t know,” said Mackenzie. “But since I’m also by the cave, since we’re not together, I think I’m here on a different day?”

  “That makes sense,” said Younger Ellie. “You were probably brought back in time to change something we’re going through. So putting you back a few days, at least, makes sense.”

  “Alexandra,” said Older Ellie. She turned back toward Alexandra. But Alexandra was gone.

  “Where did she go?” asked William.

  “I don’t know,” said Older Ellie. “There must be a reason why she brought us together like this.”

  “But what?” asked Brent.

  “I found my handwriting on rocks in the cave,” said Younger Ellie. “A figure of Earth and the moon. Underneath an arrow from
one to the other I wrote forty-six years on one rock, one hundred and thirty-eight years on another, and one hundred and eighty-four years on a third rock. The figures are otherwise similar. Does that mean anything to either of you?”

  Mackenzie and Zack looked at one another, and then both gazed at Younger Ellie. Then they shrugged.

  “No, nothing,” said Zack.

  “What do you make of it?” said Mackenzie.

  “We’re all puzzled,” said Brent.

  “We did find at least three neural depolarizer blasts inside the cave,” said Zack. “Mackenzie and I only remember one missed shot hitting the ground. Not sure where the others came from.”

  “Interesting,” said Younger Ellie. “I wonder if and how that fits in with my rock drawings.”

  “It’s pretty likely that there’s a good reason Alexandra gave us the ability to be together in this way,” said Older Ellie.

  “Yeah,” said William. “Probably easier to destroy us all at once. I’m getting a bad vibe from the creepy little girl. Watch your backs and don’t—”

  A harsh, screechy beep sounded, penetrating the quiet and peace of the night. William woke up with a gasp and rose rapidly. He stood, ready to fight, his fists tight, his gaze piercing. It was then he realized that he had been asleep, dreaming the whole time.

  Older Ellie got up too, her eyes on the blinking gizmo on a rock nearby.

  “We have company,” she said. She looked at the screen of the apparatus and studied it for a short while. “We’re surrounded by men. In a circle all around us. They are slowly advancing in this direction. Quick! Gather everything and let’s get into our hideout in the cave.”

  The teens put out the fire completely by pouring dirt on the embers in the fire pit and collected the few belongings they possessed. Then they scampered into the cave.

  “I just had the weirdest dream,” said William.