Dark Future

by KC Klein

  “Well, we won’t know until we try, but don’t worry, I’ll cite you if it works. I’m not like some of those scientists who never credit where they get their ideas from.”

  A loud rushing sounded in my ears. I barely remembered placing the phone back in its cradle.

  Oh my God, what have I done?

  One week later. . .

  The night was quiet. I’d put this off until the last moment. I left tomorrow. I sat at my kitchen table, one of the few possessions that would stay with the house when it sold and looked down at the words penned on simple white-lined paper. A jagged black line ran across the top where the pen had slipped.

  I’d wrestled with this decision for hours, days. Finally I couldn’t deny what I had to do.

  I knew that I’d failed . . . failed before I had even begun.

  But the future generations didn’t know. They still thought The One would come and from that hope they made decisions that altered their lives. They believed.

  So I had written The Prophesy and with it as much detail as I could. I was too afraid to change anything. One small word could alter so many lives. Prevent someone from believing, from taking action.

  And she will come from the past and be protected from the wild beasts. With wisdom of old she will save the lives of men and drag the doings of the evil ones into the light. And they will hate and seek to kill her. But a mighty warrior will be called upon to save her and he will become an outlaw to her rescue. And she will incite a small nation to rebel. And a final sign will be given to all of you, so that you may know she is The One. A miraculous birth will be bestowed upon her. This sign will be hers and hers alone so that all may know she is The Chosen One.

  I laid the pen aside and folded the tragic fate of mankind into thirds. My hands shook as I slid the paper into a plain, inconspicuous envelope addressed to Dr. Robert Edwich.

  There should have been more. Should have been some ominous symphony playing inny playi the background. Dim lighting and numerous close-ups on my letter, something to signify that in this moment I’d just fated the death for more humans than any one person in the history of mankind. I’d just given Dr. Edwich the final piece to start the Global War.

  And with such a simple act, black ink sprawled over white paper, The One and The Pale Horseman become the same.

  I had written on the back not to open until after the first satellite was launched using atomic power. I had no idea if he would wait that long or not, but I knew my path was already set.

  I’d taken a week to prepare. From the time of my early morning phone call to now had been a whirlwind, but the actual decision was quick. Going back to ConRad’s time would complete The Prophesy. I’d go back pregnant, which would be the final sign—the birth. How it would be miraculous, I had no idea, but that didn’t stop any of the other signs from coming true. I was taking a lot on faith. Faith that had been hard won.

  This would be my last “jump.” The previous time travel had messed with my equilibrium; I had vertigo and a bloody nose for weeks, causing an unplanned trip to the emergency room.

  Could my body survive another jump? Each trip proved harder to pull myself back together, and this time I had another life to think about.

  I’d waited long enough to know that if labor was induced, the baby would be fine. Lord knows, that thirty-six and a half weeks was plenty long. But going back to ConRad’s time was risk enough. I was no fool. Life there was hard and would be harder still without ConRad.

  This time I was prepared. I was going into battle; I had to fight for my life and my child’s now. I’d given the sales clerk at the Ammo&Guns store a shock. His rounded bloodshot eyes, set in a pimply face, said it all when a very pregnant woman came into the store and asked for a semiautomatic rifle, sighted with night vision for deer hunting. He’d almost lost his nerve when I threw in the request for a weapon belt, size large. I’d wanted to add grenades to my list, but was afraid he’d call the cops.

  My backpack was full—Twinkies, instant coffee, peanut butter, and a butt-load of chocolate. I’d been steadily eating for two and didn’t feel like I should rein myself in at this point, hence, the size large belt.

  By Sunday night or early Monday morning, I was ready. The army fatigues didn’t fit anymore, no loss there. So I dressed in an extra-large pair of sweats, an oversized T-shirt, and tucked my hair through a baseball cap. I did a final check in the mirror. Damn, there was a distinct resemblance to a beached whale on downers.

  I jimmied myself behind the steering wheel and drove to the hiking trail parking lot. My car would have to be abandoned, no help for it. Fortunately, I’d given myself plenty of time to get up the trail so dawn was still a ways off. The darkness was good since there was no plausible reason under the heavens as to why a very pregnant woman, with a night-sighted rifle, backpack, and an industrial flashlight was shuffling up a mountain.

  I waddled toward the trail head and then huffed and puffed up the beginning mild incline. Within five minutes I knew I had underestimated the time I needed to climb the mountain. Even though the baby had dropped over three days ago, I still couldn’t draw a big enough breath.

  It took me forty-five minutes, and the abandonment of my pack and rifle, to make it to the particular mesquite tree. Gasping for air and coated with a thin sheen of sweat, I leaned against a large boulder to sit and wait for the first rays of dawn. I circled the beam of my flashlight over the “portal,” which showed nothing more than dirt and rock. How many people crossed this place without any thought, without anything unusual happening? Why me? So many others would’ve been a better choice. And yet here I was.

  I didn’t have to wait long as the light pink of the sun outlined the mountain horizon. My heart raced in direct opposition to such a peaceful scene. My daughter’s elbow jammed me in the ribs, and I pushed back trying to get more air. This was it and yet I hesitated. Both times I’d gone through before was either unknowingly or in a life-or-death situation. Today—today was purely by choice.

  Black crackling holes appeared in the atmosphere. First, slow disappearing pops in my peripheral vision, then gathering in duration and mass.

  Icy sweat coated the back of my neck as the blackness grew and coalesced into a hole big enough to step through. The cold vacuum of space chilled my skin as my terrified blood heated my veins.

  Before me loomed the vast blackened emptiness. My heart pumped so hard it hurt and my daughter’s body tightened in response.

  For courage, I rubbed my extended belly and said a final prayer. Please help.

  I stepped forward. Then stepped again.

  And fell.

  Chapter Thirty-five

  Pain splintered my body apart. There was no direction, no up or down, just a pulling outward. A tearing from my center like an elastic band stretched to the maximum and then pulled some more. Muscles slid from bone, ligaments popped from joints. Then I was lost.

  Too far gone. Need to fight. Can’t remember why? Something . . . someone . . . focus. Piercing blue eyes, hard whiskered jaw, blond hair darkened and slicked with sweat.

  ConRad.

  Snap . . . I was back. I woke up sprawled out on the cold dirt ground. My head swam, and the darkness spun. Loud sharp bursts of noise rang around me. A scream, high-pitched and deafening, echoed inside my skull.

  The scream was bad. Something about it told me I needed to move. I tried, but my legs and arms were disconnected as if broken and laid useless on the ground. I gritted my teeth, fighting through the white fire behind my eyes.

  Go small, simple, but move! I tried the tiniest of movements—a head turn—instead a moan escaped from behind my clamped lips.

  “Kris? What are you still doing here? Get the hell out of here, now!”

  The words didn’t make sense, but the voice? Like a tuning fork struck to the note of C, my ears aligned to the familiar sound. I fought with grainy eyelids, too thick to roll back and open. Then slowly the darkness abated. ConRad?

  His back was toward
me, shirt off. Dirty sweat ran like rivulets down his back. Muscles trembled as he aimed and fired his machine gun.

  Oh God, he’s alive.

  My insides, once a cauterized gaping hole of flesh, unable to heal, beyond all mortal help, slammed shut. I breathed the first full breath in months. I’d come home.

  A sharp pain knifed through my abdomen. I rolled onto my hands and knees trying my best to keep my screams behind closed teeth. They sneaked out regardless.

  “"#000000What’s wrong? Can’t you go? I only jumped back in because I thought you’d left. Do you need me to leave again?”

  I shook my head, but realized he couldn’t see me with his back still turned.

  “No,” I panted.

  Wetness trickled down my lip, pooling brown on the ground—a nose bleed. The abdominal pain layered upon itself and I froze. My body was stiff with tension, and then the sharpness of the pain ebbed enough so I could swallow and think again.

  I needed to apply pressure to my nose before I lost any more blood. When I jumped previously, it took packing the sinus cavity to stop the bleeding. I pulled my shirt off, thankful I had a sports bra on underneath, and wadded the shirt into a ball. Applying pressure, I bent my head forward to prevent having a tasty little meal of my own fluids.

  The dogs’ howling turned into whimpering yelps as the piercing shrill of the aliens filled the small hole.

  Aliens? Shi—

  “Ahh, I can’t watch.” ConRad slammed his back against the wall and ducked for cover.

  I shifted back to my knees and stole a peek at ConRad. His eyes were trained on my bulging stomach, his face a mask of utter shock, and with more than just a little of disgust. “Holy crap, what happened to you?”

  “Imph pragnaph.”

  “What?”

  I took my shirt away from my face and tried again. “I’m pregnant.”

  A gunshot sprayed the dirt by his head. ConRad crouched lower, then turned and fired off a round. He ripped open his side pant pocket, pulled out a clip, and slammed another round into the chamber.

  I shoved the already soaked T-shirt back against my nose. The bleeding slowed, but I was feeling light-headed. From lack of blood or time travel, I’d no idea.

  ConRad’s body vibrated as he laid down fire, spraying the bullets in a sweeping pattern. He paused long enough to yell. “Why didn’t you leave?”

  “I did. I’ve been gone for almost eight months.”

  He turned his head to face me. “Eight months? But you just left!”

  But I hadn’t. I’d been gone for almost the whole pregnancy. I had no idea what happened, but I couldn’t explain the intricacies of time travel any more than he could. “I don’t know,” I said shaking my head.

  “Kris, why the hell are you back now?”

  This question wasn’t any easier. Because I believed in The Prophesy, because I’m Death and The One, because I needed to be close to his grave, to the life he’d lived. I wanted to tell him about my tortured existence, about the pain of knowing he and I weren’t breathing the same air. That even though we lived decades apart, him not being alive destroyed me on some elemental level. If not for his child, I would’ve never gone on. But that was too complicated and yet not nearly enough, so instead I said, “I thought you were dead.”

  A scream rang out, more bullets zinged by his head—too close.

  “Damn!” He ducked, turned, and fired. “It won’t be long now. I took off my shirt and used it to bait the aliens. The scent drew them here. They’ll cut the Elders off at the pass.”

  But he was alive now. My joy was radiant. Yes, bullets flew, monsters beckoned, but I couldn’t wait to touch him one more time. I stood to throw myself in his arms when his body slammed me down to the ground.

  “Christ! Stay down. Do you want to keep your head attached?”

  I crouched down beside him, hard to breathe when your lungs and a baby were competing for the same space. His chin gestured toward my ever-increasing belly. “Is this normal? You’re huge . . . I mean it’s huge . . . no, your belly I mean, is really big.”

  The months apart hadn’t softened the edge of irritation that this man could raise in me. “I missed you too. And yes, my doctor says my weight is fine. Twenty pounds is normal.”

  He whistled softly. “Wow, twenty pounds.”

  I elbowed him hard in the stomach. “Shut up and get me out of here—ahhh.” A stab to my stomach had me feeling like my womb was ripping in half.

  ConRad jerked back. “What’s wrong?”

  “I think I’m going to have this baby,” I said through clenched teeth, as I doubled over.

  “Here? Now?” I heard the panic in his voice.

  “No,” I hissed, shaking my head. “First labors take a while . . . usually.” Another contraction would have me falling to my knees if I hadn’t been there already. My stomach tightened and the baby moved, rolling elbows and knees underneath my taut skin like some possessed thing from a freaky sci-fi movie.

  “Ah hell,” ConRad said.

  My thoughts exactly. Damn, I hated sci-fi.

  He ran a hand through his hair making it stick up in odd angles. “Kris, why are you back? I sent you home to be safe. Why are you here?” His eyes screamed in his tortured face.

  It was so complicated, but I found I could sum it up in one sentence. “I believe in The Prophesy.”

  He closed his eyes and shook his head. “God, Kris, you could’ve been safe. I had to make a choice. And I’d never go with them, never willingly go with Syon. Kris, do you understand—I had to make a choice?”

  His choice, between Syon or the aliens. He had chosen the aliens.

  “It’s come to that, then?” I asked. An odd feeling of peace stole over me. I’d been fighting for so long, so hard. I was tired.

  I would’ve never thought I’d think this. I’d blamed my mom for her cowardliness. Hated her for years, but now . . . I could no longer stand in judgment of her actions. Living without ConRad all those months made me realize I couldn’t live with just half my soul. There was no other scenario where tempting aliens would have any other outcome, except this one. “It’s better this way.”

  “You can still go back. There’s still time,” he pleaded.

  I shook my head. “I can’t. I almost didn’t make it here. Last ride, I was prepared for whatever it brought.”

  The bullets had stopped flying and dogs were silenced long ago. A few men broke the silence with screams in the distance.

  He crawled over to the edge of the pit, stood, and peered out. “They’re hunting them down. It won’t be long now.”

  He turned and slid down the dirt wall until he was sitting, knees raised, head heavy in his hands. But ConRad was a man of action and it didn’t take him long before he raised his head. The lines around his mouth had deepened as his lips set in a grim line. My husband had come to a decision. “I won’t let you go like that. I promise.”

  I read so much in the depths of those blue eyes. How could I ever think they were cold? They smoked and heated with such passion. I saw my entire life reflected back to me—and it was good. I knew what he saying, and I loved him all the more for his courage and strength.

  I nodded. Ah God. “Do it then.”

  ConRad crawled over to me and cupped my face with his hands. He kissed me. Hard lips imprinted his brand on me. “I’m so sorry.”

  “No need, it’s better this way.” My voice shook, but it had strength, as I stroked his cheek reassuringly.

  He dropped his machine gun to the ground and reached behind his back pulling a pistol out. He lowered himself to the ground and pulled me into his lap.

  “Do you believe in God?” I whispered.

  “I believe . . .” he paused and pressed his lips to my temple. “I believe that no matter what happens, we will be together. No matter how cruel the universe can be, no one can keep us apart.” He cradled my face, and I placed a kiss in his palm. He turned so we could gaze into one another’s eyes. “No matter how many
worlds there are after this. I will find you. Wait for me, because I’ll come for you.”

  Tears streamed down my face, but I was content. That was enough for me. I believed him; he’d find me. I spared one last thought for our unborn child. A sob shook my shoulders before I could suppress the shudder, but I would NOT give her as a sacrifice to the locusts that feasted on man and Earth. She’d never leave her safe home. Never know anything other than me. My hand protectively ran across my belly as if holding her one last time.

  “I’m ready.” I closed my eyes and inhaled wanting my last sing my lcent to be of him. My last sense, if I held on strong enough, maybe I could take a small piece with me. I waited for the click of the gun, as the cold metal shivered at my temple.

  “Kris . . . I need to ask you one last thing. It’s not important, and no matter what you say. I’m still your husband. Nothing changes that. I can’t leave you.”

  My hand came up and stroked his cheek. “ConRad, it’s okay. What is it?”

  “Did you love him? The baby’s father? Did you love him like you did me?”

  The bottom of my world dropped out. Did he actually think I would’ve been with another man?

  “I understand,” he said, his voice deep, strained. “You thought I was dead. I don’t blame you. I just . . . selfishly, I needed to know if I’d be asked to share you in the next life.”

  He laughed, but it fell short, more along the lines of a gasp. “Because, God knows, I don’t play well with others.”

  I hit him hard, my hand slammed into his chest. “Jerk, she’s your baby . . . your daughter. Do you really think I would break our vows so easily? Do you think so little of me?”

  His eyes widened in surprise, then a look of awe lit across his face making the impending dark less gloomy. His hands rested on my belly and caressed his daughter. “Mine? A daughter? Then before you left? Before you crossed back?”

  I nodded. “I knew at the Sanctuary.”