Rewinder

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Rewinder Page 21

by Battles, Brett

I wait until she drifts back to sleep, then I leap even further back in time.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  LIDIA’S INSTRUCTIONS WERE to be at the meeting point in 1702 at noon, but wanting to give myself some extra time, I’ve set my arrival for ten a.m. As an added precaution, I’ve also adjusted my location to materialize a quarter mile away, just in case any of the others are already there.

  Despite my jump-induced migraine, I force myself to look around to make sure I haven’t been observed, given I’ve arrived in daylight. But I’m in a forest, and the only other living things around are the birds calling to one another.

  Satisfied that I’m safe, I allow the pain that’s built up over all my hops to run its course. Once it passes, my first order of business is to get out of my colonial outfit and change back into my 2015 clothes. I grab a black T-shirt, but then see the Mr. Peabody shirt Iffy bought me and I don that instead.

  As I start to lose myself in thoughts of her, I force myself to focus. I need to stay sharp, and thoughts of a nonexistent Iffy aren’t going to help. Ready now, I sling my bag over my shoulder and head through the woods to the meeting point.

  The actual site turns out to be a meadow, not unlike the one Marie met me in, and makes me wonder if choosing places like this is part of some kind of advanced training seasoned Rewinders receive.

  So far, no one else is here. Instead of walking out into the meadow, though, I choose a spot under the cover of the trees to wait.

  Bernard is the first to arrive, appearing at exactly 11:40 a.m. He’s a tall man, thin but muscular, and if he’s feeling pain from his trip, he’s hiding it well as he scans the area. I have never seen him without a serious look on his face. This time is no exception.

  At ten minutes to noon, two others show up, both women I don’t recognize. Bernard clearly does, though, and comforts them while they work through their trip trauma.

  A trainee I know named Cole winks in with his supervisor, a man I believe is called Morris. Then Lidia shows up two minutes later, and I’m happy to see she’s as affected by her jump—if not more so—than I was by mine. Her appearance tells me she lied and didn’t leave at the deadline like she said she would. Each of those arriving must have left Iffy’s 2015 before I did, or they would have been erased when I changed everything back.

  As it approaches 11:55, I decide it’s time to make my appearance. I adjust the newspaper so that a portion of it sticks out of the flap at the back of my bag. When no one is looking in my direction, I slip out from the trees and stand at the edge of the meadow, my hands to my head.

  Bernard sees me first and waves me over. Slowly I walk to the group, making sure the pain I’m projecting is appropriate but less than what Lidia experienced.

  When noon hits, there are eleven of us, a few still suffering from the effects of their trips, but most have recovered. Bernard appears concerned as he takes another look around the field.

  “They should have been here by now,” he says.

  “There are others?” someone asks.

  Bernard turns back to us. “Four more.” His gaze locks on Lidia. “You did give them the right time, didn’t you?”

  This is the first time I’ve ever seen Lidia look scared. “I did,” she says defensively.

  “And you stayed until the deadline?”

  “Yes.”

  Liar, I think.

  “There are others here I talked to.” Lidia says quickly, then glances at me. “Obviously I gave you the right time.”

  I nod, but keep my mouth shut.

  “Then where are they?” Bernard asks.

  “I don’t know,” she replies. “Well, they’re traveling without companions so they could have arrived a little ways away, right?”

  Bernard scans the woods. “We’ll pair off, do a perimeter search. Lidia, you’re with me.”

  If the missing Rewinders left Iffy’s world even one second after I did, then they’ll never arrive.

  “You. Denny, isn’t it?”

  I look toward the voice and see it belongs to a veteran named Carter. He was the last to arrive.

  “Uh-huh,” I say.

  He waves for me to join him. “Let’s go.”

  If I don’t say something now, I will likely lose control of the situation. When I say, “Wait,” the first time, there are too many other conversations going on for anyone to hear me, so I repeat it, louder.

  This time I have their attention.

  “I don’t think they’re coming.”

  “What are you talking about?” Carter asks.

  “I…I…” Come on. Just like you practiced. “They must’ve not left on time and were trapped when”—I take a breath—“ I fixed everything.”

  Stunned silence from everyone but Bernard.

  He hurries toward me. “When you what?”

  “I figured out when the change occurred,” I said. “So I fixed it. That’s what we wanted to do, isn’t it?”

  “You fixed it?” Morris barks. “You’re telling us that everything’s back the way it was?”

  I nod.

  “So you trapped the others back there?” Bernard says. “You erased them.”

  “I waited until the cutoff time,” I lie. “I left right at the hour on the dot. Just like Lidia did. If I left early, she wouldn’t be here.”

  I glance at her and see she’s trapped by her lie. When the others look toward her, too, she says, “He must have waited.” When they look away, though, the look she gives me is one of suspicion.

  “If they didn’t leave by the deadline, then it’s their own damn fault,” one of the women who arrived right after Bernard says.

  Morris moves in until his face is only inches away from mine. “I don’t care when you left. What I want to know is, who authorized you to fix anything?”

  His breath is hot and rancid, causing me to take a step back. “I just thought, um, well…”

  Bernard grabs Morris by the shoulder and pulls him away. At first, I’m thankful, but then I see Bernard’s anger has kicked in again.

  “How did you find out when the problem was?” he asks.

  “Lidia said I was supposed to see if I could figure out when it was,” I say.

  “Figuring it out is not the same as fixing the problem,” Morris says over Bernard’s shoulder.

  “When did it happen?” Bernard asks.

  “The problem? Um, it was during the American incident of 1775. One of their leaders was supposed to have been killed. What I realized was that the man who turned him in was prevented from doing so.”

  “How?”

  It’s time for my next lie, one I spent hours thinking through after my last visit with Iffy.

  “He was never born.” The words sound false, but I hope I’m the only one who picks that up.

  “And how did you figure that out?” Morris yells at me.

  If Bernard weren’t between us, the man’s hands would probably be around my neck.

  “Answer him,” Bernard says.

  “The era is kind of my specialty,” I explain. “Late eighteenth and early nineteenth century. I’ve read a lot about it so I’m very familiar with the period. When we ended up in that other time…” I pause, and then clarify, “the time that wasn’t supposed to be—”

  “We know what you’re talking about,” Morris says.

  “Right. Of course. Well, clearly something happened to break North America from the empire. So I studied its history. The rebel movement is quickly squashed in our time, but here it’s referred to as the American Revolution. So I knew that’s when the break must have occurred.”

  “I figured that out, too,” another Rewinder said. “But I couldn’t pinpoint the actual event that changed everything.”

  Two others added their agreement.

  “But you found it?” Morris glares at me, as skeptical as ever.

  “I told you, I know that part of history,” I shoot back. “After Lidia visited me, I spent time writing down what I remembered, and then compared that t
o what their history was telling me. It took me a while, but I was able to narrow it down to a General George Washington.”

  “I’ve seen him,” someone says. “He’s on their money.”

  “That’s right. He became their first president. But in our history, he’s captured and put to death before their revolution can really get started.”

  “So what did you do?” Lidia asks. “Go back and kill him yourself?”

  “Of course not. I’m not going to risk causing a bigger problem by getting directly involved. I’d read about his capture and knew he was turned in to the British Army by a colonist. At first I couldn’t remember the man’s name but it finally came back to me. Richard Cahill. But there was no mention of that Richard Cahill during the American Revolution. I used their Internet. You know what that is, right?”

  I see a few nods behind Bernard and Morris, but the two men look unsure.

  “It’s a worldwide digital network,” I explain, “accessed through computers. I was able to find birth and death records from the eighteenth century. There was no entry for Cahill’s birth. And before you say it, yes, I know, records from that era aren’t always complete. What I did find, though, was a death record for a Susanna Cahill, and a note that she was with child at the time of her passing.” With each word I speak, I gain confidence in my fabrication. “Her date of death coincides with the approximate time frame Richard Cahill would have been born. So I thought it would be smart to check in person, see if I could confirm she was his mother. Once I knew for sure, my plan was to come here, share what I learned so we could figure out what to do together. I didn’t make the trip intending to fix anything.”

  “I assume you have a good reason for not following through on that,” Bernard says.

  I nod. “The first thing I did was witness her death. She was run down by a horse-drawn cart that got away from its owner.”

  “Doesn’t sound unusual,” Morris said. “How can that—”

  “I watched again, this time to see what caused the runaway. What I saw was a Rewinder crossing the street at the wrong time.”

  “What?” Bernard says as others gasp around him. “Which Rewinder?”

  I make a show of looking around at everyone before saying, “I don’t see him here.”

  “Must be one of those who didn’t get back here,” someone suggests.

  I don’t counter this argument. My plan was to blame a fictional Rewinder whom Lidia and Bernard were unable to find, but this works even better.

  “You talked to them,” Morris says, looking over at Lidia. “Did any of them seem suspicious?”

  For a moment, everyone focuses back on her, allowing me a second to regroup.

  “I don’t know,” she says. “I wasn’t with any of them that long.”

  “Who were they?” Carter asks.

  “William Samuels, Brianna Paulson, Todd Meyers, and, um…” She pauses, thinking.

  “Jared Hendricks,” Bernard says.

  “Right. Jared Hendricks.”

  “Meyers is a bastard,” Carter says. “I wouldn’t put it past him.”

  The attention shifts back in my direction.

  “Was it Meyers?” Carter asks.

  “I don’t know Meyers,” I say truthfully. “And I’d never seen the Rewinder who crossed the street.”

  “Then how could you have possibly known he was a Rewinder?” Morris asks.

  “I couldn’t. Not at first. I followed him until he disappeared behind some buildings. When I got there, he was gone. So I time-hopped back a few minutes and hid. When he arrived, he pulled out a Chaser and jumped.”

  Morris looks annoyed, obviously not expecting me to be so thorough.

  “Why didn’t you just jump here then?” Bernard asked.

  “I almost did. But the fix seemed so simple, it didn’t make sense not to deal with it. I hopped back to before the accident, bumped into the Rewinder as he was about to cross into the road, and delayed him enough so that the cart went by before he continued on his way.”

  “You didn’t tell him who you were?” Morris asked.

  “I’m a junior Rewinder,” I remind him. “Would you have listened to me if I tried to stop you from doing something?”

  From his expression, I know he wouldn’t have.

  “But how do you know it worked?” someone else—Cole, I think—throws out.

  I shrug. “Because I went and checked.”

  Everyone starts talking at once. Bernard finally gets them quiet and says, “What do you mean? You checked to see that this Washington was captured?”

  “I went home, back to 2015. It’s our world.”

  Everyone talks at once again.

  “Quiet!” Bernard shouts.

  As the murmurs settle, Morris says, “The institute?”

  “That’s where I went.”

  “And they sent you back here?” Bernard asks.

  I nod. “To retrieve you. After debriefing me, of course.” I look around. “If you don’t believe me, check your Chasers. They should be reconnected to your companions by now.”

  I pull my satchel around and open the flap as if I’m going to pull out my Chaser. Instead, I “accidentally” flop the newspaper onto the ground. Bernard snaps it up and studies the masthead. When he looks back at me, he smiles.

  “You did do it.”

  “Let me see that,” Morris says, snatching the paper out of Bernard’s hands.

  Bernard claps a hand on my shoulder. “I’m very impressed. I apologize for doubting you.”

  “I’ll be damned,” Morris said. He turns and shows the paper to those behind him. “It’s from home. From a couple weeks after we left.”

  “That’s from the first day I was back,” I say.

  “How long were you there?” someone asks.

  “Three days.”

  Morris turns to me, his anger also gone. “You have my apologies, too.”

  The paper gets passed around and I receive thanks from the others. Lidia is the only one who seems less than impressed. Out of everyone here, she’s the one most likely to see through me.

  I feel a tinge of guilt when Carter says, “There’s no reason for us to stay here any longer. I say we go home.”

  When the others enthusiastically voice their agreement, that guilt grows. But I’ve made my choice, and this is the only way I can ensure my plan doesn’t get unraveled.

  As the others pull out their Chasers, I do as well. Without fanfare, they begin disappearing.

  My finger hovers above mine, as if I’ll depress it at any moment, but I’m only waiting for them all to vanish. Since they’re all spread out, I don’t actually see each person wink out, but within a few seconds, I’m the only one standing in the meadow.

  I can’t believe it. Two more jumps and I will have done it. The only thing that can go wrong is if my Chaser fails me.

  With the power down to 2.23%, I enter my next destination.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  I’VE VISITED THE tavern so many times now, it almost seems like a homecoming when I arrive once more in 1775.

  This time, I hide behind the wagon closest to the tavern. Three minutes later, the version of me that was here just over an hour ago in my personal timeline sneaks up behind the other wagon, intending to stop the even earlier version of me from causing the twelve-second delay.

  I move in behind him. As I know will happen, he looks over his shoulder in anticipation. When he sees me, he smiles.

  “They believed you?” he asks.

  I nod.

  “What about Ellie and Mom?”

  I look to the woods where I left my sister and let him draw his own conclusions, quite literally fooling myself.

  With a satisfied smile, he pulls out his Chaser and hands it to me. I enter the time and location for the same point in 2015 I jumped to after escaping the institute storeroom near the stables.

  I hand the device back to him. “All set. Good luck.”

  “To you, too,” he says, then hits
the GO button, and disappears.

  The theory is that he will bond with me in transit. In truth, I’m unsure what’s going to happen to him. I certainly don’t feel any different.

  I wait until the original Other Me arrives in the field and heads, unhindered, for the tavern door. I don’t dwell on the time mechanics behind the fact that I’ve not only stopped the mistake from happening, but now will stop myself from correcting the error. Going down that road is a sure path to insanity.

  After Other Me is inside the tavern, where he’ll delay Cahill, I hurry across the field into the copse of trees where I left Ellie. For her, it has been less than ten minutes since I left, but for me, it seems as if we’ve been separated a lifetime.

  She’s lying on the ground, sound asleep.

  I want to wake her, tell her what I’ve done, let her know she’s going to be all right, but there will be time enough for talk later. The truth is, she’s not all right yet.

  I start to crouch beside her, but remember there’s something I should do first. I reattach the companion connections on my Chaser. I don’t know if it will reconnect with Iffy, but if it does, at least she’ll know I’m on the way.

  I hug Ellie like I did before and place my thumb on the GO button.

  “Last trip,” I whisper to her and press down.

  __________

  I HOPED THE Chaser would link with Iffy, but Ellie and I are traveling rudderless. The last time that happened, I was on this same trip and ended up in the hospital for four days. This time, I’m not taking it in a straight shot but three hops. So I don’t throw up on arrival, but I am crippled by temporary agony.

  Once the pain lessens enough, I take a look around.

  I thought I set my location to the alley behind the building near Iffy’s house that I’d used before, but we’re in the middle of a park. Kids are running around on a playground several hundred feet away, while adults are sitting on benches, watching them. It’s a wonder they didn’t see Ellie’s and my arrival.

  I look at the Chaser to check the information I entered, but the screen is dark. I press the power button twice before it comes back on, indicating a power level of under one percent. Before I can check the location number, the device powers down again.

 

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