by L. Eira
Her hand gestured for his. William felt drawn to her. He took four steps and reached for her. Holding hands, the two walked toward the tree line. Beyond the first row of trees was the scene from a horrible sci-fi movie, a postapocalyptic world on the brink of total self-destruction. The trees morphed from a beautiful, elegant forest, the greens with yellowing edges of the early-autumn colors, to charred brown-and-gray-burned discoloration, broken-down tree trunks with jagged limbs. Beyond the ugliness of the destroyed woods was the result of a world at war—fallen buildings covered with thick smoke, demolished cities, wrecked cars in pieces, shattered neighborhoods, desolate people wearing masks scampering through unbreathable air. And the war-beaten children, many alone, crying, hungry, and desperate. In the far distance to the north, a massive explosion spread devastation far and wide. The devastating plumes of repulsion were strewn across the world. And then another blast, this one to the west, closer than the first and even more vicious.
“William,” someone shouted. A voice he recognized. “William!”
He turned to see the girl from the iPhone he found in his pocket. Valerie Rovine. She was kneeling down on the scorched grass only a few feet away.
“It wasn’t your fault I died,” she said, her voice like a whisper. “You didn’t kill me. You just didn’t save me.”
Next William saw himself help Valerie back on her feet. They held hands and moved slowly down a path through the forest. They looked tenderly into one another’s eyes. The other William pulled a snack from his pocket and handed it to her. A Baby Ruth. It was dark there, but somehow William could see every detail perfectly.
She took a bite and immediately dropped the candy bar, her hands at her own throat. “I can’t breathe,” she yelled, her voice gruff. “Epi-Pen. Save me!”
The image of William stood there, unemotional and undisturbed, and then a smirk formed at the corner of his mouth. He removed a small bag with Epi-Pen written on it in big letters from his pocket. He removed a syringe from the container and uncapped the needle. The smirk on his face grew to a frown. He dropped the syringe and stomped on it.
“Oops!” he said. “I broke the syringe. Now you have to die.”
“Why?” said Valerie. “Why didn’t you save me?”
“I’m sorry. I—” The image of William exhaled as he spoke. His breath caused a small ripple of air, which triggered Valerie’s body to disintegrate into particles, tiny specks flying from her into the thick, smoky sky. And just like that, she was gone.
An explosion blast coming from behind the real William took his attention for a split second. When he looked back, the image of himself, the image of William, was now gone.
A moment later, a small cadre of soldiers emerged from the wreckage, several yards to the north. Some of them were young. Very young—teenagers and even preteens. One held a small contraption in his hand. William couldn’t see it well. Another grasped a torch-type device, a flame shooting out of a small tube pointed at the ground.
“What are they doing?” said William. He tightened his grip on Alexandra’s little hand. “They’re lighting up some sort of fuse.”
The one holding the flame source looked right at William. It was Harvey, the red-haired boy with the machine gun. Harvey looked back at the fuse, and, within seconds, the gadget grew dense, sparkly flames. Harvey tossed the bomb toward William and the little girl. Then the world exploded deafeningly.
“Wake up,” yelled Brent. “Wake up, William.”
“He’s coming around,” said Ellie.
William sat up, his heart thumping and his stomach in knots. He gazed at Brent’s eyes and then saw Ellie, both sitting at his side, concern written all over their faces.
“The explosion,” said William. “The little girl.”
“What explosion? What little girl?” asked Brent. “You’re not right yet.”
“Don’t worry, William,” said Ellie. “It takes a few seconds to wake up from the neural depolarizer. Same thing happened to me and Brent.” She rubbed his back.
“Harvey!” said William, standing up. “Where’s the carrot-top guy with the machine gun?”
“He was gone when we came to,” said Brent. “The twins too.”
“Wait,” said William, his mind slowly reconnecting with reality. “Zack and Mackenzie were shot by Harvey. with the machine gun.”
“Yes,” said Brent. “But I see no bodies. Not even any blood.”
“Who would have taken the dead bodies?” said William. “I’m pretty sure they were killed. There were multiple bullet holes in each one of them.”
“They were from the future,” said Ellie. “Maybe when you don’t belong in this era and you die, your body disappears?”
“While I was unconscious, I had a wicked dream,” said William. “First I heard the weirdest noise. It sounded like a chipmunk on steroids. A shriek that said something like koo eeky…koo eeky. Then there was a weird little albino girl who showed me world war and total destruction.” He stopped suddenly. “I’m feeling sick to my stomach. I’m going to barf.” And he did.
Ellie came to his side and touched his shoulder. William withdrew from her, a wild-eyed look on his face.
“William, it’s me,” said Ellie, her voice soothing. “What’s wrong?”
“Don’t touch me,” said William. “Please don’t touch me.” He took a deep breath. “This world is going to end. And it’s all because I killed Valerie Rovine.” With these words, William darted away and vanished into the woods.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
When his beeper went off with a page from the ER, Dr. Rizzo departed the on-call room and hurried to the nurses’ station.
“New patient in the cardiac room,” said Peggy. “Mr. Yellog in bed four.”
“You look sick,” said Dr. Rizzo. “You seemed fine earlier in the shift. Are you feeling OK?”
“Not that bad,” said Peggy. “I have mild body aches and a low-grade fever, and—”A loud sneeze interrupted her. “And sneezing.”
“You get exposed to a lot of bugs working the ER.”
“Dr. Rizzo,” she said as she wiped her nose, “could I have symptoms of the flu already if I was only exposed about an hour ago?”
“Nah,” said Dr. Rizzo. “It takes several days for symptoms to begin after exposure to a virus. Why?”
“I’ve been off for two weeks. Just came back today. My only viral exposure was recently when my brother came to visit me. He got the flu in the cave raid.”
“Dr. Rizzo,” yelled a woman from down the hall. She sneezed and wiped her nose with a tissue. “The patient in cardiac four is having more chest pain. Come quickly. Oh, and thank you, Peggy. I got your stupid cold.” Another sneeze.
“Page Dr. Rovine stat,” said Dr. Rizzo, running to see Mr. Yellog. “I think this one’s going to need an urgent heart intervention too.”
A few rooms down the hall, in the trauma room, three police officers and nurses witnessed the first of the comatose patients regain consciousness. Soon thereafter, the others did as well.
“Welcome back to the living, Kaiser and Rogers,” said Peggy. “You guys have been in a coma, but you’re going to be OK. All your tests were fine. How do you feel?”
“A slight headache,” said Rogers. “Otherwise just fine.”
“What happened to us?” said Kaiser. “I remember being called to a shots-fired incident, and then I woke up here just now.”
“We don’t know exactly yet what happened to you, but your case is exactly like many others this weekend,” said Peggy. “Several people have been brought in comatose only to wake up just fine after a while.” She sneezed. “You might have been drugged somehow, but all drug tests were normal in the other cases. I’m sure your drug-screen tests will come back as normal too. There’s some unknown weird stuff going around. Who knows what.”
“Hey, what about me?” said Doug. His wrists were handcuffed to the hospital bed.
“You were shooting an AK-47 in the woods,” one of the officers
, who was sitting on a chair next to his bed, said. “You’re under arrest.”
“It wasn’t him,” they heard someone say from the door.
“Harvey?” said Doug.
“I shot the AK-47. And I killed two people with it.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
William knew Ellie and Brent followed him when he first scampered into the woods, but he also realized they lost his trail within minutes.
I have to make things right, William mused. I can’t believe what I did to you, Valerie Rovine, whoever you are. He ran through the woods as fast as he possibly could, zigzagging between tree trunks. How do I make things right?
“William,” yelled Brent. “Come back. Let us help you!”
“We need to stay together,” shouted Ellie. “Where are you?”
Sweating profusely from running, Ellie and Brent finally sat down to rest under a big oak tree.
“Things have gotten so damn complicated,” said Brent.
“Let’s talk this through,” said Ellie.
Brent nodded. “What do we know?”
“The world is ending because of a virus that kills people who took the drug that stops heart attacks, which we presumably invented. You travel from the future to get us to stop the drug.”
“Somehow this Valerie chick is in on it with us three,” added Brent. “When I travel back in time, we change the future by killing the girl. Then I die.”
Ellie’s quizzical eyes gazed into Brent’s. “For some reason our memories were wiped out about it all. But why?”
“I think our first step has to be to find Future Ellie,” said Brent. “She may hold some or even all of the answers.”
“So, go ahead; ask me out.” Ellie smiled. “Oh, and where should we go out to eat on our first date?”
“Would I have picked the joint? Or you?” Brent smirked. “I don’t have a favorite restaurant. Do you?”
“No, not really.” Ellie thought a long moment then gave him a big smile. “Our first date has to be at Ellie’s Diner. Right here where we camped this weekend. And the menu only has one entry—freshly caught river bass and warm beer.”
Brent smiled. “You’re right, of course.” He stood up and offered his hand to help Ellie to her feet. “Let’s find our campsite from this weekend.”
And they walked through the forest.
Ellie from the future, an elegant woman in her sixties, placed a sepia-colored square cloth, about two by two inches, over Zack and Mackenzie. They remained unconscious after being nearly mortally shot. She touched the small piece of fabric, causing it to instantaneously enlarge and cover the wounded bodies completely.
Ellie took a drink of water from the canteen and sat down at Zack and Mackenzie’s sides, her back toward the cave’s wall. The large boulder she had earlier displaced to allow access to her time-travel ship was to her left. She felt utterly exhausted. She let her heavy eyes close, her hand on the proximity-alarm app. Within moments, she was deep in asleep.
Earlier in the day, Ellie from the future had walked through the woods in search of the area where she had camped in decades ago with her two best friends.
She stopped, frozen in place, when she heard multiple gunshots. Loud, piercing, menacing sounds she remembered from long ago when bullet-type weapons were in vogue—the type of arsenals used in the era she was visiting. In a split second, Ellie’s heart thumped hard, deep inside her chest. Her mind raced, overreaching.
She hid behind tree trunks as she cautiously progressed through the forest, slowly advancing toward the area where the shots arose. Erratic footsteps fell in the near distance. She ducked down low. A teenager with unusually bright-red hair ran past her, carrying a large object. It was a machine gun. Immediately her mind conjured up images of death and horrible wounds, the type she had treated during her medical training so many years ago, but only a few years from now. The intercontinental wars had begun near here, pitting state versus state before spreading overseas into the world.
Looking toward where she had last seen the boy with the red hair, she continued to walk, vigilantly dodging between trees and bushes, slowly advancing toward the site of the gun discharges.
Within minutes, she found five young adults, barely teenagers. Three she recognized immediately—not only who they were but also what had incapacitated them. They were Brent, William, and Ellie as a teenager. Observing their peaceful slumber for a split moment, Ellie realized how young and beautiful the three of them had been so many years ago. How simple life had been way back when, before it all went crashing down. These thoughts of yesteryear didn’t last long, as her attention was drawn to the two unknown kids—a boy and a girl of about twenty or so. Who are you two? She approached their fallen bodies. I don’t remember having met you two! They were gravely wounded and would surely die soon. Gore gushed out of them. She reached into her backpack and fished out the gelatinizer, which she applied to the wounds. The pulsatile flow of crimson congealed instantly, plugging up the bullet holes, stanching blood loss.
She then procured the hematomagnet from her pack and passed the device through the body fluids on the ground. The precious life-sustaining plasma and blood products lifted from the red-stained dirt and grass, seeking the gizmo in her hand, and then collecting in a reservoir. When she was done, the grass, rocks, and dirt were again pristine, no longer discolored with gore. She poured the contents onto the gelatinized crimson wound plugs and watched the rapidity with which her patients were infused with their spilled blood. Ellie was happy with the results. The pallor in the kids’ faces faded, and they returned to their normal skin color.
The bleeding is stopped, but will this be enough to save them? she mused. How extensive is the internal organ damage? Next, Ellie checked for the presence of shrapnel. She searched for and found the pulverizer.
“Computer on,” she said, her words confident and shaky at the same time.
“Hello, Dr. Ellie Smithson,” said the pleasant, unemotional, fake, female processor voice. “How may I be of service?”
“Scan for bullet materials from circa 2013.”
“Scanning.” The familiar undulating humming sound began. “There are multiple fragments in both bodies. I can pulverize the shrapnel if you wish.”
“Computer, estimate potential consequences if the shrapnel is pulverized.”
“Scanning.” The unit whined and whirred again. “No serious negative consequences from shrapnel pulverization.”
“Computer, estimate potential consequences of not pulverizing shrapnel.”
“Computing. Without pulverization, the risk of infection is increased twelve percent, the risk of pulmonary complications is increased by twenty-two percent, the risk of cardiovascular complications is increased by—”
“Computer, pause analysis and proceed with pulverization.”
“Pulverizing.” An undulating whir, alternating with a drone resonance, initiated and continued for several long moments.
As this process proceeded, Ellie noticed a familiar gadget in the girl’s grasp, a device that hadn’t existed in 2013. This is a neural depolarizer. All along, she had assumed that Brent had incapacitated the teens but hadn’t had time to consider how all this could have played out. Why were these shot with bullets and those with the neural depolarizer? She continued to muse, all while thinking back to when she was fifteen, back to the era she was now visiting. None of this really happened. She stood up, thinking. And where’s Brent from my timeline? She knew Brent could explain all this. She needed to find him and find him fast.
But first, I have to save these two poor souls. She looked tenderly at her unconscious self and her two best friends. She smiled. You three will be OK. You just need time to wake up.
“All shrapnel has been pulverized,” said the electronic female voice as soon as the whirring and humming ceased.
“Computer, what are the chances of survival and recovery given organ and tissue injury if no further intervention?”
“Computing.”
“Unidentified male patient. Chance of complete recovery is twelve percent. Chance of survival is twenty-seven percent.”
Ellie exhaled forcibly and then passed device over the girl.
“Computing. Unidentified female patient. Chance of complete recovery is eight percent. Chance of survival is nineteen percent.”
“Computer, are chances of survival better with cellular and organ reconstruction?”
“Computing. Chances of full recovery and survival are ninety-seven percent with cellular and organ reconstruction.”
Ellie returned the handheld computer to her knapsack and used the gravify to carry the wounded deep into the cave. She positioned a two-by-two-inch square fabric on them. She touched the small piece of cloth and instantaneously it enlarged, completely covering the kids.
Ellie felt exhaustion overcome her. Alexandra, I’ve done all I could. Only you can save them now. She needed to dream, as she was being beckoned.
CHAPTER TWENTY
The police placed Harvey under arrest and handcuffed him. They took him and his vehicle to headquarters and engaged the services of the district attorney. Just as Harvey had declared, they found the AK-47 machine gun in the trunk of his Prius.
Reassured that the only criminal was Harvey, the police released Doug, who walked out of the hospital alone. Reaching the entrance door, he took a deep, cleansing breath. He produced his iPhone from his pocket and searched for the whereabouts of one William Baten, the miserable, despicable creature responsible for Valerie’s death. And for that he would pay dearly. He would pay with his life. Thanks to Harvey, he would now have a second chance to dole out much-needed revenge.
A police cruiser dropped Doug off in the parking lot where he had left the Camaro. When the cop car was out of sight, Doug opened the trunk and fumbled in the spare wheel well for the nine-millimeter Beretta. He placed the loaded pistol in his pocket and reanalyzed his smartphone’s display for the signal from Valerie’s cell.Dr. Rovine and the rest of the cardiac team were ready to begin. Mr. Yellog sneezed as he was draped and prepped. A mild sedative, administered intravenously, had already begun doing wonders for his anxiety.