by L. Eira
“I did see a machine gun,” whispered Harvey to no one. “Or at least I think I did.” He got up and stormed out the gym, heading to the parking lot.
Doug gunned his car forward, the rage inside him percolating through the revved-up engine. “I will find you and make you pay, William Baten. You’ll be the first to go. Then your friends. Then the whole world. Then me…I’ll be the last.” As he approached Austin Academy, he noticed Valerie’s cell-phone signal was on the move, proceeding toward downtown. “Where did you go, William Baten?” The Camaro turned right onto a side street, smoke exiting the tailpipe, the tires screeching. “I will find you anywhere you go, William Baten. And you will pay!”
Harvey removed the iPad from his backpack and fiddled with the touch screen. He looked around the parking lot. “Where did you go, Doug?” He ran to his Prius and sat behind the wheel, his eyes still analyzing the electronic tablet. “I know you’re planning something big, but what and where?” He punched a few buttons on the screen. “Wouldn’t it be cool if I saved the day? I’ll show everybody what I’m capable of!”
Harvey put his car in drive and maneuvered out of the parking lot.
Zack and Mackenzie sat on the bleachers that surrounded the soccer field at Austin Academy. From their vantage point, they spied the teens’ bikes, which were chained up by the main building.
“They should be back soon,” said Mackenzie. “What’s the plan?”
“We’ll explain that our motives were to save our mom, Valerie Rovine. Surely, they’ll understand our motives. In the process, we’ll win their affection and make friends with them.”
“Let’s see what we can learn from them about what Uncle Brent was trying to do,” said Mackenzie.
“And we have to figure out when and where to meet Aunt Ellie,” said Zack.
“We need to learn how to get back to the future,” said Mackenzie, “and she’s the key to that.”
“And right before we travel to our time, we’ll get rid of all of them once and for all.”
CHAPTER NINE
The door closed, and Brent, Ellie, and William found themselves alone in the cold, dreary interrogation room once more.
“I can’t remember any of this,” said Brent. “Can either of you?”
“All this conclusive evidence points to us knowing this Valerie and her dying in my arms less than forty-eight hours ago,” said William. “How can I not remember any of it?”
“This all seems like a nightmare,” said Ellie. “A really bad dream.”
“Let’s look at all the facts,” said Brent. “What do we remember for sure from the last few days?”
William and Ellie had parked their bikes in front of Brent’s house and knocked on the door. They were carrying enormous knapsacks on their backs. William’s bike pulled an attached cart on wheels, with all kinds of camping paraphernalia inside it.
“Happy birthday, Brent,” the teens said when he opened the door.
“This is going to be the best birthday I’ve ever had,” said Brent. “I’m all set. My bike’s in the garage.” He placed his arms through the straps, and soon his backpack was in place.
The three teenagers biked a few miles in a jiffy and reached the gravel-and-dirt parking lot adjacent to the forest they had chosen for their campsite extravaganza. It was bright and sunny, the air filled with promises of a gorgeous weekend ahead. They found a particularly thick grove of trees, grasses, and other plants on one side of the parking lot.
“Let’s tie up the bicycles behind here,” said Brent. “They’ll be pretty well hidden.”
Within minutes, the three teens were walking into the woods, the gear on their backs and belts clinking together with every step.
“We fished, we camped, we walked the trails,” said Brent. “We celebrated my sixteenth birthday and had a great time. What are we missing?”
“We didn’t see anybody,” said Ellie. “We didn’t leave the woods, did we?”
The others shook their heads.
“I remember we drank a lot of beer and smoked some weed,” said William. “Would that have made us forget what happened with this Valerie?”
“How can we remember the camping trip so vividly except for what relates to the girl?” said Ellie. “What can be so specific and affect the three of us so equally?”
“I remember we caught three fish the first night for dinner,” said Brent. “I cleaned them, and you two cooked them.”
“Yet it looks like we got in trouble with the police and even got arrested,” said Brent. “We were in this room being interrogated. I don’t remember that at all. Yet the video clearly—”
The door opened suddenly, and a cop came in. “Brent, your father was the only parent we were able to get a hold of. He’s here. You are all released at this time. But don’t leave town. Detective Sparks will be in touch with you soon.”
Doug drove his Camaro into a parking lot adjacent to the Springfield Police Department Headquarters, his gaze between the road and the GPS app on his smartphone.
“Where are you, William Baten?” he whispered. “Did you and your little buddies go to the cops? They won’t save you.” Doug placed his hand over the carrying case on the passenger seat, the AK-47 machine gun providing comfort and strengthening his resolve. “Nobody will!”
CHAPTER TEN
Brent’s father, Dr. Joseph Smithson, drove the teens to Austin Academy. During the trip, the teens answered the same pointed questions they had answered only moments earlier in the interrogation room. Dr. Smithson’s initial anger quickly melted to the complete silence of disappointment, and eventually a smidgeon of understanding. He dropped them off by the front door, near the bike rack, and hurriedly departed the school’s campus.
“I’m in no mood to deal with school right now,” said William. “We need to figure this whole thing out. Let’s…” His words trailed off as a couple in their midtwenties approached them.
“So we meet again,” said Zack. “I hope you kids appreciate the mess you’re into with—”
“Wait, you two know us?” said Brent. “We’ve met before?”
“Why does everybody think they know us?” said Ellie. “When did you meet us? We don’t know either of you.”
“You’re serious, aren’t you?” said Mackenzie. “You three don’t remember meeting us a couple of days ago?”
“Do you remember the fiasco at the hospital?” said Zack. “The drugs you three and Valerie destroyed? What was it called?”
“Enoxadin,” said Mackenzie. “The drug that saved the world.” She sneered.
“Saved the world until it started killing everybody,” said Zack.
“Enoxa-what?” said Brent. “What are you talking about?”
Mackenzie looked deeply into Ellie’s eyes, and then William’s, and finally Brent’s. “They’re telling the truth. They truly don’t recall.”
“Look, we went camping and were deep into the woods by ourselves this weekend,” said Brent. “We had nothing to do with stealing drugs or hospitals or this Valerie chick.”
“Neural synaptic depolarizer?” asked Zack, his eyes on Mackenzie.
“No, I don’t think so,” she replied. “They don’t remember events that happened when they were clearly conscious. They should remember us. This is too creepy.”
“You better believe it’s pretty creepy,” said William. “You two are creepy.”
“We need time to think without these kids,” said Zack. “Let’s get out of here.”
“Now wait just a goddamn minute,” said Brent. “You’re not going anywhere until you explain to us what the hell is going on here.”
Zack and Mackenzie exchanged glances.
“We’re from the future,” stated Mackenzie.
“Oh, that’s pretty rich!” said Ellie. “You’re aliens from a future world, and what? You erased our memories about some wonder drug and some crazy chick who’s now dead? Was she from the future too?”
“No, she was to be our mom,” said Zack
. “In the future.” He gazed at William. “And you’re our dad.”
William’s eyes opened wide. “I’m your father?”
“Let’s get out of here, guys,” said Brent, pulling on William’s shirt. “We need to get real and figure this out. These two are screwing with—”
A loud screech penetrated the air as a blue Camaro stopped suddenly. A big man exited. He was well over six foot, with broad shoulders, an unshaved face, and clenched teeth. The teens recognized his face immediately from Valerie’s iPhone. And he was carrying a big gun.
“I’m going to kill you, Billy boy,” said Doug, a machine gun in his hand. “And all your buddies too.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
The part about his job that he absolutely could not stand was coming up in a few minutes, mused Dr. Rovine as he approached the small conference room in the cardiology suite. With each passing step came more distress. More apprehension.
He stood in front of the door and took a deep breath. He straightened his shirt collar and tie and stepped into the room. Inside, there was a woman of about Police Officer Tomlinson’s age and a young man, about twenty years old. Both faces were sad, and tears inundated both sets of eyes. The man stood, and Dr. Rovine shook his hand first, and then the woman’s.
“I’m Dr. Rovine,” he said, studying their body language.
“I’m Darla Tomlinson, and this is my son, Everett.”
“I’m so sorry for your loss,” said Dr. Rovine. “Officer Tomlinson came into the ER with the flu, but he was having a heart attack.”
“A heart attack?” said Everett.
“He had been having stable angina symptoms, but this flu bug must have precipitated things into an accelerated and unstable form of heart disease.” Dr. Rovine gazed into Everett and Darla’s eyes and saw the raw pain and sorrow that dwelled there, the agony that mirrored his own anguish. “We tried to save him, but his condition deteriorated fast.”
“What about this experimental drug you gave him?” said Everett. “What was that all about?”
“Enoxadin.”
“Could he have died as a result of that new drug?” said Everett.
“I don’t know,” said Dr. Rovine. “We just began our clinical trials.”
“How many patients have you personally treated with this drug, Dr. Rovine?” said Everett. “What about other centers? What’s been the experience with it in other patients?”
“This is our first trial,” said Dr. Rovine. “Your father was the first human to ever get it. The first patient.”
The woods behind Austin Academy were quiet and calm, the sun-rays touching each tree leaf and blade of grass, giving their autumn colors more beauty and radiance. Heavy footsteps suddenly assaulted the peace—the swift footsteps of five people fleeing for their lives.
“What did you do to Valerie, you son of a bitch!” Doug yelled in between hurried breaths. “I’m going to kill you, Billy boy. I’m going to kill the five of you.”
A barrage of bullets sprayed its fillings into a small bush to the group’s right and blew it to smithereens.
“Holy crap,” said Brent. “He’s firing at us.”
Harvey followed Doug’s GPS signal into the parking lot adjacent to the Austin Academy. Doug parked the Camaro, took out his AK-47, and ran into the woods.
He’s going to kill those kids! Harvey thought. He got out of his car and ran after Doug, making sure to keep a healthy distance. He retrieved his cell phone from his pocket and dialed.
“This is…”—a pause—“Mickey Rat. I want to report a man with a machine gun trying to shoot some kids.”
“Sir, from your caller ID, I can tell that your name is Harvey Homer,” said the 911 operator. “Is this a prank call?”
“No,” began Harvey. “I mean, yes. Uh, the name is fake, yes—but…”
In the background, in the not-so-far distance, a series of rapid-fire shots rang out.
“What is that I just heard?” said the operator, her voice several octaves higher.
“Machine-gun fire,” said Harvey. “Come quick.”
After giving a cursory description of his location, Harvey terminated the call and hid behind a large oak tree for several seconds. Then he took a deep breath and looked around the trunk. Doug and the kids had run deep into the woods and out of sight. He looked in all directions but didn’t see a soul. He dared to take a step down the path, and then another.
“Run in a zigzag,” said Ellie. “Through the trees.”
“Use the neural depolarizer,” said Zack.
“He’s too far behind us,” said Mackenzie.
“Use the what?” said Brent.
“I’m going to hide behind a tree and wait for him,” whispered Mackenzie. “You all keep running ahead.”
“No,” said Zack. “He has a machine gun. It’s too—”
“Do what I say, Zack. No time for discussion,” said Mackenzie.
“What are you talking about?” said Ellie. “What’s a neural depolarizer?”
“Keep running. I’m going to hide behind that big tree up ahead. I’ll give you a call when it’s safe to come back to me.”
“It’s too dangerous,” said Zack.
“Dangerous is running ahead of a madman with an automatic weapon,” said Mackenzie. “I read about those bullet-shooting rapid-firing guns. They’re as dangerous as sonic blasters.”
“What are you saying?” said Brent.
“Keep running,” said Mackenzie. “No time for explanations right now.”
The teens zigzagged as fast as their feet could carry them, with Zack in the front. He ran around to the right in a circle, hoping to return to the location where Mackenzie had separated from the group. After what seemed to be a long time, but which was, in fact, just a few seconds, they heard a loud whistle.
“It’s done,” said Zack. “All is well.” He stopped running.
“What’s done?” said Brent. “We’re being pursued by a maniac with an automatic—”
Zack walked back to where Mackenzie was, the others behind him.
When they arrived, Mackenzie was placing a small gadget in her belt purse. Their crazy pursuer was unconscious at her feet, a nasty-looking machine gun beside him.
“What did she do to him?” asked Ellie. “Is she trained in martial arts?”
“No,” said Zack. “She used a weapon we brought back from 2059, a neural synapse depolarizer. The guy is now paralyzed.”
Mackenzie picked up the AK-47 and began inspecting it. “Interesting weapon. I saw one in a movie. It fires metal bullets.”
“Oh yeah,” said William. “I almost forgot. You two are my kids from the future. Of course you would have futuristic weapons of mass destruction, right?”
“Seriously,” said Brent. “What did you do to madman Doug over here?”
Mackenzie produced a small handheld device, the size of a small cell phone, from the small purse attached to her belt. “This little gizmo sends out a high-frequency signal beyond the auditory spectrum.”
“That means you can’t hear it,” explained Zack.
“We cavemen understand your words of many letters,” said Brent, his eyes squinting, his forehead furrowed. “Go on!” He turned back to Mackenzie.
“This signal depolarizes the neural synapses.”
Zack looked at Brent.
Brent, his eyebrows still wrinkled, gazed at Zack for a moment.
With all their eyes back on Mackenzie, she continued. “It stops all nerve conduction in the body, so it paralyzes people. Makes them comatose and unconscious.” She showed the device to Brent, William, and Ellie. “I set it to one. He won’t recall anything that passed over the last hour, give or take a few minutes.”
“Bullshit!” said William. “I can’t believe a gadget like that really exists. Is he dead?”
Ellie got on her knees and felt for a pulse in Doug’s neck. “I don’t feel a pulse, and I’m not sure he’s breathing.”
“Don’t worry,” said Mackenzie. “
Vitals are hard to appreciate, but I promise you he’s alive and well enough. He’ll wake up in an hour, and he’ll be just fine. Unfortunately, we’ll have to worry about him shooting us again after that.”
Ellie visually inspected Doug’s body, and then turned him over with Brent’s help. “No bullet holes,” she said. “No bruises.”
William found a rabbit on the edge of the walking path, its head hidden by a small bush. He picked it up by its hind legs.
“He got depolarized too,” said Mackenzie. “Must have been close enough to the blast.”
“Could we have been shot by this depolarizer? Could this be why we don’t recall some of the events of this past weekend?” said Ellie. “The stuff with Valerie and the new drug?”
“Maybe,” said Mackenzie. “But unlikely. You three seem to have lost more memories than can be accounted by a depolarizer blast. For instance, you were conscious when you met the two of us. And we didn’t blast you. Therefore, you should remember the two of us, but you don’t, right?”
“Right,” said Brent. “But why should we believe you?”
“Only you can answer that,” said Mackenzie. “We believe you were influenced somehow by either Uncle Brent or Aunt Ellie.”
“Who are they?” asked Ellie. “Uncle Brent and Aunt Ellie?”
“That’s what we call you two,” said Zack pointing at the two teenagers. “You’re not really related to us, but we grew up calling you that.”
“Whatever technology Uncle Brent or Aunt Ellie used to erase your memory, we never heard of it,” said Mackenzie. “We would like to help you find out why you don’t remember the events of this last weekend.”
“And, at the same time, fill you in on what actually happened,” said Zack.
“Come on, guys,” interrupted William. “You’re not buying this bullshit, are you? Time travel is impossible.”
“It’s impossible today,” said Zack. “But it is possible in 2059.”
“Actually, it’s impossible in 2059 too,” said Mackenzie. “But Ellie, you discover a way to time travel based on some weird dreams about—”