Every Last Minute (Time Wrecker Trilogy Book 1)

by Ellen Smith

  “You okay up there?” Will asked. “You still look kind of pale.”

  “I’m so sorry. I feel so bad,” Mara said for the fiftieth time. “I’m really embarrassed.”

  “Look at you,” Will said. “You only had one drink and you’ve already memorized the Battle Hymn of the Hungover.”

  Mara laughed, which made her feel both better and worse. “I’m sorry you had to take off work this morning.”

  Will shrugged. “I wasn’t exactly anxious to go into the school today. Who knows what people have heard by now.”

  Mara wasn’t sure how she felt about that. They weren’t in the news yet, exactly. Not like when her dad had been in the middle of his scandal. That had been bad. Right now, they were on the outskirts. The information was out there, but you had to search for it. When Mara had put her name into a search engine this morning, the first three results weren’t too bad:

  VA Congressman Denies Daughter, Son-in-Law Involved in Time wreck

  April 11, 2011

  Mara Gaines and William Sterling Marry, Four Years After the School Shooting That Nearly Ended Their Lives

  June 2006

  Updated: School Shooting Victims Gaines, Sterling Return to Class

  January 2003

  Mara remembered how relieved she felt when the updates about her father’s scandal had dropped off the evening news report. Then when she and Will had survived the school shootings, they were briefly in the news again. Mostly write-ups following their progress from the college alumni magazine, and a few human-interest pieces in local papers.

  Maybe this would go the same way.

  Yeah, right.

  Mara settled back on the exam table just as the nurse came in. “We don’t usually see you until the end of the month,” the nurse said. “What brings you in today?”

  “Abject stupidity,” Mara said. “I did some drinking last night.”

  “Hmmm,” the nurse said, clicking her tongue. She held a laptop open for typing notes on the electronic chart. “Let’s get started.On a scale of one to ten, how would you rate your pain level?”

  “An eight,” Mara said. Unmedicated, her shoulder sent shooting pains nonstop down the length of her arm.

  The nurse clicked through to another screen. “Describe your pain.”

  “Burning under the right shoulder blade. Shooting pains and numbness down my right arm and fingers.”

  “Does it get worse when you bend your elbow or move your fingers?”

  “It’s difficult to move my fingers and hurts to move my elbow. My shoulder and shoulder blade hurt if there is any movement.”

  “So is your pain level an eight at rest? What is your pain level if you move your arm in any way?”

  “Nine.” Mara never said ten. If she hadn’t been living with this for eight years, she would have ranked this kind of pain a ten. She would probably be screaming her head off too. She remembered what Dr. Ricci had told her when they first met: Chronic pain generally doesn’t improve over time, but your ability to tolerate it does.

  The nurse tapped on her laptop as if she were scrolling through different screens. “When did you last take your pain medication?”

  “Yesterday afternoon.”

  The nurse looked from the laptop screen to Mara and back again. “So you’re currently not taking anything for pain relief?”

  “No.” Mara felt heat pricking across the back of her neck. “I figured I should probably check in with the doctor before I took my meds again.”

  The nurse pursed her lips. “And what time was your last dose?”

  “Four-thirty in the afternoon.”

  “And what time did you drink?”

  “Around six o’clock.”

  “Any ill effects?”

  “Just a lot of nausea and a headache.”

  The nurse typed into the computer. “You and the rest of the planet. I’ll let Dr. Ricci handle the lecture, but you realize you aren’t supposed to mix alcohol with this medication, right?”

  Mara felt like a child being chastised. “Yes.”

  The nurse finished typing and handed her a paper cup. “You know the drill. Down the hall, leave your urine sample on the counter. The doctor will be in soon.” The door swung closed behind her.

  Mara balanced the cup between her knees and worked the cap off the pen one-handed. Finally, Will reached over and took the cup and pen. Mara let him. Her shoulder and arm ached so badly she wanted to groan out loud.

  “You probably could have taken your pain killers this morning,” Will said. “I’m pretty sure it’s all out of your system now.”

  “I’d rather be safe than sorry.”

  “That sounds more like you.” Will finished writing her name on the cup with a flourish. “Your chalice, madam.”

  “Thanks.”

  By the time she returned, the doctor was already in the exam room, talking to Will. They both turned to look at Mara. Her cheeks flushed hot.

  “Gave us a bit of a scare last night,” Dr. Ricci said.

  “I’m paying for it now, believe me,” Mara said.

  “The nurse mentioned you hadn’t taken any medication. It’s been over twelve hours at this point. It’s fine to go ahead and take your pills. Do you have them on you?”

  “In my purse,” Mara said. She felt gratitude pulse through her system almost, but not quite, as steadily as her shoulder throbbed.

  Will pulled the small orange bottle out of her purse and shook out three pills into the cap. Mara tossed them back on her tongue and swallowed them with a paper cup of water Dr. Ricci offered her.

  “You really should take that with some food,” Dr. Ricci said, frowning.

  “She’s got some,” Will said. He tore open a pack of oyster crackers and passed them to Mara. She’d forgotten she had them in her purse. Thank goodness Will remembered.

  “Now, of course the meds won’t kick in for a bit. Can you stand a brief exam?”

  Mara gritted her teeth. “Mm-hmm.”

  Dr. Ricci slowly flexed each of Mara’s fingers, her wrist, and her elbow. When he tested the range of motion on her shoulder, she couldn’t help crying out. Dr. Ricci shook his head.

  “How is the timeline rectification case progressing?” he asked. “Do you have a trial date yet?”

  “Not yet,” Mara said. “We just did the psychiatrist evaluations on Friday.”

  Dr. Ricci’s eyes didn’t leave her arm as he gently pulled it straight. “I’m sure that won’t be a problem,” he said. “Your case seems pretty open-and-shut to me.”

  I hope so. Mara didn’t say the words aloud. She wasn’t sure if she really meant them.

  “How is the higher dose working for you? When you take it on schedule, do you have more relief?”

  “A little,” Mara said. “But the side effects are awful. I’m always tired, I’m super-forgetful, my stomach is just—bad.” Will silently nodded, backing her up.

  “It was worth a try,” Dr. Ricci said. “But since you’re here, I can go ahead and step you back down to a lower dose. That should help alleviate some of the side effects and make life a little more bearable.”

  “Yes,” Mara said. “That would really help.”

  Dr. Ricci jotted down a note on his prescription pad. “Get this filled today and take the new dosage the next time you’re due for a pill. Don’t try to cut up the pills you have, please. And then, go ahead and keep your end-of-the-month appointment with me, and we’ll see how you’re doing.” He ripped off the new prescription and handed it to Mara. “Be well. And don’t pull another stunt like that again. Even on the lower dose, you can’t mix alcohol with these meds.”

  “I know,” Mara said sheepishly. “Thank you.”

  Usually Dr. Ricci hurried out, but he lingered a little today. “And who knows, your next appointment may well be your last,” he said. “I confess I don’t know much about how timeline rectifications work. But I do know that they’re supposed t
o erase the crime and its effects, so I very much hope that will be the outcome for you.” He stood up, sending his wheeled stool twirling back behind him. “Good luck to you.”

  “Thanks,” Mara called after him. The door had already shut.

  * * * * *

  “Everyone’s staring at us,” Mara whispered. She hung a little closer to Will as they walked into the pharmacy. A woman who was just leaving had done a double-take when she saw them.

  “You don’t know that. Don’t be paranoid,” Will said. “We’ll just drop off the prescription and go get some lunch.”

  Mara would have answered, but her shoulder seized suddenly. Will noticed and stopped walking.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  Tears pricked her eyes. “No.”

  “We’ll just get the prescription filled and go home,” Will said.

  Mara’s shoulder seized again. She concentrated on counting her steps as they walked back to the pharmacy counter.

  I wish this really could be the last time we have to do this. They were at the pharmacy counter now. Mara let Will take care of it while she stood still and breathed. If she stayed still enough, focused hard enough on her breathing, maybe the pain would stop.

  “You’ve already filled this prescription this month,” the pharmacist said loudly. Mara’s cheeks burned. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the other customers stop their shopping.

  “We just came from the doctor’s office. He wrote this script an hour ago. We’re not early. He stepped down the dosage. See?” Will said.

  “You’re too early,” the pharmacist said. “I can’t fill this.” She waved her hand to the person behind them in line. “Next!”

  Will looked to the prescription and back at the pharmacist. “Call Dr. Ricci. He just wrote this. It’s a change in the dosage, that’s all.”

  The pharmacist smirked and waved to the person behind them again. “Next in line, please.”

  Will snatched the script off the counter and turned. “We ought to complain,” he muttered, not quietly enough.

  “Will, please,” Mara said. “Let’s just go somewhere else.”

  “They should fill this for you,” Will said, more quietly, but he quickened his pace. Mara gritted her teeth through another shoulder seize and hurried to keep up.

  The next pharmacy over already had a dozen people waiting in line. Mara leaned on Will’s shoulder as they inched forward, step by step, until it was finally their turn.

  “We don’t have this in stock,” said the pharmacist immediately.

  Mara wanted to cry in frustration. Was it her imagination, or was the pharmacist eyeing her suspiciously?

  “Let’s try the one around the corner,” Will said to her on the way out. “It’s bigger than this one. They’ll have to have it there.”

  Mara sighed. I’d bet the rest of the money in our bank account they have it here too.

  There were only five people in line at the next pharmacy, but more were starting to filter in. Probably here to do errands on their lunch break. Mara glanced behind her as they waited. The line was snaking halfway down one of the aisles.

  Finally, it was their turn. Mara’s heart sank as the pharmacist read the prescription twice, then looked up at her.

  “You need to leave,” said the pharmacist. Behind them, the line fell silent.

  “This prescription was written earlier today—” Will began, but the pharmacist cut him off.

  “Your regular pharmacy already called us,” he said. “You’ve already filled this prescription this month. You need to leave.”

  “What the hell is wrong with you people?” Will exploded.

  The pharmacist smiled grimly. “Just so you’re aware, pharmacists talk to each other. We watch out for prescriptions like this. You need to leave now.” Mara saw his hand snake briefly under the counter. He was probably ringing for security, Mara realized.

  “Will, let’s go,” she said.

  The man behind them spoke up. “Hey, the rest of us have prescriptions we can fill. Let us through.”

  The pharmacist waved him forward. “Next in line.”

  Will rounded on his heel so fast Mara had to grab his elbow. “This is ridiculous,” he grumbled. “We’ve never had to deal with this crap before. Let’s call the doctor and get it straightened out.”

  “It’s just a flag in the system. Dr. Ricci gave me a different script for a smaller dose, but since I’ve already filled a month’s supply a few weeks ago . . . it looks bad.” Mara kept her head down and hurried to keep up with Will’s long stride.

  “They could at least bother to read that it’s a different dosage,” Will grumbled.

  “We’ll call Dr. Ricci and get him to clear it up,” Mara said. They were almost at the door now. It was probably close to lunch time, since a steady stream of customers had started coming in. Already the pharmacy was more crowded than it had been when they arrived. Mara and Will stepped aside to let another group of customers pass. Most of them walked straight past Will and Mara, seeing them but not seeing them.

  Except one.

  A middle-aged woman did a double-take as she walked past. Someone Colleen’s age, Mara guessed, although this woman had none of Colleen’s friendliness and compassion.

  Mara raised her chin to meet the woman’s stare head-on. Completely unabashed to be caught gawking, the woman looked from Mara to Will and back before raising her eyebrows and walking off.

  “What was that about?” Will asked.

  Mara knew. That was the same look she got when her father’s embezzlement charges had hit the news. As soon as it was in the headlines, she’d become a celebrity of the worst kind. The whispers had followed her everywhere: “Isn’t that Mara? The congressman’s daughter? You know, the one who . . .”

  Mara felt her stomach sinking. It was happening again. That woman had recognized her and Will. Which meant she’d heard something. Read something. Word was getting out.

  People know we’re time wreckers.

  FundItUp Campaign

  Help Me Stop a Time Wreck!

  By Chris Sterling

  April 12, 2011

  Raised so far: $4,283 out of $250

  Goal exceeded!

  How far would you go to stop a time wreck? Most of us will never know, since the government is so secretive about these “timeline rectifications.” I have a chance to help stop a time wreck before it happens, but I need your help to do it!

  My brother and sister-in-law, William and Mara Sterling, were involved in a school shooting at Adams Morgan University on October 18, 2002. Now the shooter, Jason Mann, is eligible to “go back in time and undo the crime,” conveniently changing time for the rest of the world too. As soon as my family learned about this, we began praying for Will and Mara and asking them to remember that timeline rectification is a sin. There is no horror so great that our God cannot use it for good. By undoing the original crime and changing time, we all lose the chance to humbly repent of our sins and walk with God in His grace.

  However, Satan is a powerful tempter. In the last two days, my brother and sister-in-law have stopped answering their phones as my family has tried desperately to reach them and offer our support. My mother and I fear that time is running out to stop them from agreeing to the time wreck. I’ve volunteered to drive up to DC and hold an intervention with them, but I need your help to do it. I live in North Carolina. The drive is ten hours away by car, and I’ll also need to take at least two days off work. My employer has blessed me by graciously allowing me to take up to three days off unpaid for this journey. I’m trying to raise enough money for gas to travel by car, but if you prayerfully consider our need and can donate more, I could take the Greyhound or even the train and get there even faster.

  Please help us do the right thing! Remember my brother and sister-in-law are victims of this crime. They’ve struggled to overcome so much since the shooting. I know if I can meet them and remind them of th
eir many blessings, they’ll choose to walk away from this sin. We can’t let Jason Mann victimize more people by changing time for the rest of the world.

  Tags: Intervention, Travel, Faith

  UPDATE 1 by CHRIS STERLING:

  April 12, 2011

  1:00 p.m.

  Some people are commenting that Mara’s father, Congressman Joel Gaines, said on his website that Will and Mara are not considering a time wreck. I don’t really want to contradict anyone, but let’s just say the information our family has is different.

  UPDATE 2 by CHRIS STERLING:

  April 12, 2011

  3:45 p.m.

  To those who are saying this is a hoax and we are just looking for money, I just want to say that is absolutely not true! My mother works three jobs, my younger sister is in training to be a veterinary assistant, and I am currently working at a local drug store and getting ready to apply for my trucker’s license. We all live in our hometown of Deer Hill, North Carolina, except Will, who works as a teacher in Washington, DC. Our family doesn’t have money to just drive for ten hours whenever we want—believe me, if we could, we would already be there!

  And if you still don’t believe me, honestly that’s okay, because there are enough people who KNOW the TRUTH!

  UPDATE 3 by CHRIS STERLING:

  April 12, 2011

  4:50 p.m.

  Thank you so much for your generosity! We are in awe of the amazing power of a few good people who seek to do the right thing. I was going to close the fund early, but decided to keep it open with the promise that all the money we don’t use will be donated to One Life, One Time and their powerful anti-timeline rectification work. I am leaving soon so will not update again until I return, hopefully with good news! Please continue to PRAY!

  Chapter Twenty

  WILL

  Of course it had been Chris. Will had thought Mara was just being paranoid when she claimed a woman at the pharmacy was staring at her. Plenty of people had been staring at them, since the pharmacist had basically accused them of trying to abuse painkillers.