by Al K. Line
"Wait! Dale you muppet, look." Amanda stood with the door open, having just pushed it to enter the store like a normal person and not one hell-bent on destruction.
"Oh, yeah, right. Good idea." Dale put the trash can back down and entered the store just behind Amanda.
"It's empty," stated Amanda. "Well, pretty much anyway."
"Odd."
They checked the shelves, the freezers and fridges. They were totally empty, cleaned out and lids up so they didn't go all funky. The shelves had the odd tin of non-perishable goods, dates expired anywhere from a few years after their present to forty plus years later, or past — Dale didn't want to think about it.
"Dale, over here."
Amanda was at the shelves for magazines and daily newspapers. He walked over and picked up the few newspapers that were remaining. He stared at Amanda, she stared at him, both too confused to say a word.
There were no magazines, no stacks of local papers or daily nationals, just a handful of well-worn newspapers from years ago, nothing in order, nothing making sense. Dale tried to read the headlines but his eyesight was getting blurry, confusion stopping him from focusing properly.
"What is this? Where is everything? And all these are out of order, nothing newer than forty odd years into the future. Our future. But they aren't for sale anyway, are they? More like just somebody's random reading matter."
"Like the owner was a time traveler you mean, and these are things he brought back with him from jumps?"
Dale nodded. "Yeah, exactly. Is that where everyone is, jumping about in time and nobody living in the present?"
"Or everyone went somewhere specific because something terrible happened, and they just left their present for good."
"Ugh. You know what?"
"What?"
"I just want to go home. If people are after us, or whatever the hell is going on, then I'd rather face it in our own timeline, our own house. Somebody has to give us an explanation, otherwise what the hell are we supposed to do anyway?"
"Can we, can we go home? It won't be safe though, will it?" Amanda wanted him to convince her, he knew that for a fact.
"Well, we can't just stay here, can we? We'd go mad, and what would we eat? What would we do? Look, I'm not saying it will be safe, I doubt that very much, but at least we'll be able to understand where we are, when we are."
"Okay, do it. Last jump though."
"I know. But I'm sure another Hexad will be popping into existence soon enough." Dale fumbled in his satchel and pulled out the Hexad with the 1 flashing. "Care to do the honors? Maybe we'll land on our feet if you do it."
"My pleasure." Amanda took the device, moved dials and bit her lip in concentration. "Ready?"
"Ready."
"Three. Two. O—"
"Wait!"
"What?"
"There should be a noise, a cool whoosh or something. You can't zip through the cracks in space-time and not be dramatic."
Amanda rolled her eyes. "Seriously? Whatever."
"Whooooooooooooooooooooooooosh."
"One."
"Home."
Dale and Amanda disappeared. A newspaper fluttered to the floor.
Home Again
Present Day +2 Minutes
"That was a stupid sound," said Amanda.
"Makes it more dramatic though," said Dale with a cheesy grin.
They were back in the kitchen. The birds could be heard singing through the large open windows, the feeders were half empty, the sun was shining and Dale noted that the grass really could do with mowing. What he wouldn't give to have a normal weekend in suburbia, mowing the lawn, sorting out the overgrown climbing roses that he hated with their stupid thorns but Amanda refused to allow him to chop down. It wasn't to be though, he knew that their chances of a normal weekend were absolutely zero.
The room felt alien because it felt so normal. After a crazy morning it was wrong that nothing dramatic was there to greet them, just the lingering aroma of fried breakfast, the dishes in the sink and, oh yeah, the huge mound of stinking flesh on the table.
"Let's go out into the garden. You go first, I'll bring us a cuppa."
Amanda stole a glance at the table, probably thinking that she'd have to go on eBay and hunt out a new one, and said a grateful, "Thanks," before walking out of the kitchen door to the patio area where they had a new set of table and chairs they'd got for a steal from a garden center that was closing down.
Dale put the kettle on and put the instant coffee in the mugs, adding a splash of milk for him, head not willing to accept the normality, tapping at his subconscious mind, warning him that the calm would be broken again any minute now.
The sick flesh was freaking him out, too obscene and surreal to remain, so Dale opened the cupboard beneath the sink and pulled out a roll of black trash sacks. He swore at the bags as he tried in vain to find the end that opened, finally getting a corner loose and flicking the bag open, then he wrapped another around his hand and went to deal with the strange, mangled monstrosity.
As he grabbed at it a piece came away in his hands. "Ugh, totally gross. What the hell happened?" He dumped the squelchy pieces into a bag then battled with another one. As he was finishing, a goo covered Hexad fell to the floor, red light pulsing angrily. Dale picked it up and looked at the readout — there was a -1 flashing its warning. "Guess this is what happens if you try to use it once your six jumps run out."
After dumping the bags outside the kitchen door Dale washed his hands until they were bright red and he couldn't stand the temperature any longer. He made the coffee and went to join Amanda. Just like normal people, having a lunch time cuppa, enjoying the warm weather, maybe thinking about a bite to eat, not that he had an appetite after what he'd just been doing.
Certain the peace wouldn't last long, Dale knew he'd better drink up, and quick. It wasn't that kind of a day.
~~~
"Ah. Lovely."
"Right? Feels normal. Just like any other Saturday." Dale eyed the trash bags nervously. Who was he trying to kid? "Are we on our right time now? Did we come back to the time it should be?"
"Near enough I guess, it's hard to get it exact. I didn't look at my watch right before we jumped."
Dale got up and went into the kitchen, checking his watch against the readout on the oven. The oven read 12:03, his watch said 12:01. He changed his watch to match, then picked up the Hexad and went outside.
"Well, it was near enough, and besides, we're out of jumps now, and I certainly wouldn't want to try one once the readout is zero. Look what I found." Dale handed the Hexad over to Amanda. She noted the -1 then moaned about having goop on her hands and went to wash them.
"Why would anyone jump if there was a chance of that happening?" she mused, sitting back down and sipping her coffee when she returned.
"Maybe they didn't know, or maybe they thought the risk was worth it. More importantly, why did they jump here, onto our table?"
"Seems we're popular today, right? I wish someone would just explain what's going on. What are we supposed to do now?"
"We need to get to the bottom of this, that's what. We need to find out what happened, when it happened, and stop it. This is what Tellan was talking about: the end of the world. Everyone was gone, they'd just left, or were made to leave, but they were obviously able to jump, those newspapers made that clear. And dates were all over the place on the few bits of food in the store, so I guess maybe that's part of the answer."
"What, that everyone had a Hexad and nobody just lived in the present?"
"Makes sense. If there was no such thing as the present any longer then things would get messy really quickly."
They talked while they drank their coffee, a surreal conversation in very familiar surroundings. They ended up going around and around in circles, not getting much further than the fact that it did seem likely that at some point in the future, some time after forty years from the present, then society underwent a huge shift and before long something
catastrophic happened, or everyone simply decided they preferred to live in a different period of time entirely.
What it didn't explain was why the giant was after them, why two men nabbed them then returned them, what they were going to do about it, or how they were going to find out.
So Amanda fixed lunch.
As they ate their cheese sandwiches they picked up the conversation, but it got them nowhere. After he finished, Dale wrestled with the trash bags and put them in the wheelie bin, not knowing what else to do with them. Calling the police seemed kind of futile — he could just imagine trying to explain that it was nothing to do with him and that it was all to do with the discovery of devices that allowed you to travel through time, that he and Amanda made in the future in another universe but in this one they discovered the devices that morning as future thems put a note in a tin in the past.
It made his head hurt all over again just thinking about it.
They needed answers; Dale had no idea where they were to be found.
~~~
Dale came-to with a start; he'd dozed off on the sofa. Amanda was in the armchair, still asleep. Both of them were exhausted and the familiarity of the living room, the quiet and the calm after so much excitement, conspired to make their eyelids heavy. An hour after lunch and they were fast asleep — even the anticipation of someone popping into existence and chasing them wasn't enough to stop them from crashing out.
Not feeling like breaking the silence, Dale remained lying on the sofa but checked to see that Amanda was safe. She looked so peaceful sleeping, as beautiful as the day they'd met. He couldn't bear to think of anything bad happening to her, he didn't know what he'd do without her. Badly, he assumed was the answer. Very badly.
Was he doing the right thing coming back home? Shouldn't they be hiding away somewhere? But where? With no Hexad with any jumps left then they couldn't escape the present, unless another one popped into existence. Maybe that was the answer, just ensure that at some point in the future he sent one back too. Dale checked the time. 1:47. Okay, send one back at 1:48.
Dale watched the time change to 1:48, then the minutes crawled past. Obviously the future him was having none of it.
For a reason, I suppose.
A few minutes later Dale heard Amanda stir so he reluctantly got up and walked over to the chair. Should they leave anyway? Just get in the car and drive? He had no idea if they were less of a target away from home or if it made no difference at all. Maybe just for his own peace of mind they should go? At least they'd be keeping busy, rather than just waiting for something terrible to happen.
Amanda opened her eyes, and in a flash they snapped to total alertness. Fear. Her body stiffened as the smile left her face and was replaced with terror at what she saw over his shoulder.
Before Dale had a chance to say a word, or turn to see what was behind him, he was struggling for breath as a huge arm tightened around his throat and he watched as reality faded and Amanda was grabbed by the hair before a hairy face came into view, smiling at him nastily before the arm holding him moved slightly and slammed the domed end of a Hexad into his forehead.
What is wrong with us? We really shouldn't have come home.
Amanda screamed; Dale fought for breath.
They jumped.
An Explanation
47 Years Future
Dale landed with a thud on soft ground, then realized it was just an extraordinarily lush carpet. Amanda was sprawled out next to him, face down and moaning. She moved and seemed to be all right, not that Dale had the chance to ask her much as the bearded giant loomed over them and said, "I kill you."
Oh shit.
Dale tried to think of something, anything, that could help him get Amanda safe, but what could he do? What chance would he have against such a man? A person that had followed them through time, always knowing where they would be, catching them easily.
While we were dozing in the living room! What an idiot I am. I should have been watching over Amanda, not lazing on the bloody sofa.
The giant grabbed Dale and Amanda by the hair and dragged them up, ignoring their cries and squeals of pain. He pulled them to a standing position then shoved them back onto two hard chairs that looked very expensive but were in no way practical at all.
It was then that Dale noticed the man sat behind a rather plain and very empty desk. Before Dale had the chance to try anything the man spoke.
"Now, now, Laffer, no need to be so rude to our guests."
"I got wet. In the sea," said Laffer, as way of explanation. He shook, as if he was still drenched, clearly very unhappy about the whole incident.
"Yes, well, if you focused more when you jumped then maybe you wouldn't miss your mark, and maybe you wouldn't take quite so many jumps for what was a very simple task after all."
"Laffer?" said Dale, not quite sure why that was the first thing out of his mouth. Just more proof he was an idiot at times, he supposed. Amanda stared at him like he'd finally gone insane. He just shrugged in return.
"Yes, it's ironic isn't it? In case you hadn't noticed our large friend here is not the most jovial of fellows."
"Laffer not find much funny. Apart from weak people." Laffer stared at Dale and Amanda like they were bugs. Bugs he really wanted to squash.
"Now," said the man behind the desk, "how about you tell me where I can get the Hexads?" He crossed his legs and placed his hands neatly on the waxed surface of the desk, as calm as if he were chatting with old friends.
"I don't know what the hell you—"
The man nodded and Dale felt pain like he'd never felt pain before. His head snapped to the side, his temple throbbing like he'd been hit with a hammer, a very big and hairy one.
Amanda screamed but was slammed back down into her chair as she tried to rise. Dale was in a daze, his head ringing, his neck feeling like it had a serious case of whiplash.
"Again," said the man.
Dale's head snapped to the other side this time, a matching bundle of pain on his other temple. Laffer watched him blankly, Amanda screamed again, and Dale blacked out for a second. He came to in an instant and saw Laffer looming over him, arm raised, ready to slap him again. Dale didn't dare think what it would be like if Laffer actually punched him. Something was muttered by the man in the chair but Dale didn't catch it as his ears were ringing too loudly. Laffer responded and stepped to the side, standing in front of Amanda.
No bloody way; that is not going to happen.
He may have been dazed but nothing would stop him protecting Amanda until he didn't have another breath left in his body. He felt helpless though, knowing there was no way that he'd win in a fight, but a memory came back to him from years ago, just about the only sound piece of advice his dad ever gave him, before he left and he never heard from him again.
He'd come home bruised and ashamed, having been in a scuffle over a game of football, a player smacking him with an elbow, Dale not responding and trying to punch him in return as the guy was huge compared to him. His dad had tutted and he remembered the words vividly: "Son, it doesn't matter how big they are, or how tough. Kick 'em in the nuts and they all go down the same way."
Dale was seated, meaning a kick was out of the question, so he put his hands on the arms of the chair, rocked back and with as much force as he could muster he angled his head to the side, pointing right at the crotch of Laffer, and headbutted him in the balls as hard as he could as he powered forward fast, speed fueled by his concern for Amanda.
Guess dad was right about something after all.
Laffer gasped and dropped to the floor like a boulder, crashing into the desk as he flew backwards, legs knocking the now vacant chairs over. Dale had hold of Amanda and they were halfway to the door before Laffer even hit the ground.
"Laffer you fool, don't let them escape," came the voice of the man who had been so self-assured, his voice rising to a high pitch as events unraveled.
They were at the door. Amanda turned the polished brass han
dle, the door as dark as the paneling all around the well appointed room. Dale couldn't help noticing the smell of brass cleaner, funny what catches your attention at the most inopportune of times.
They were out the door, Dale slamming it behind them.
"What the hell?"
They were in a wide open warehouse of some kind, empty, echoing with the sound of the door closing, clearly a stage meant to make them believe something that wasn't true. But what?
Dale didn't care, he just knew they had to get away, so they ran. It was then that he realized both of them were without footwear — it was strictly forbidden to wear anything apart from socks once you were anywhere but in the kitchen.
With cold feet slapping on the rough concrete floor they dashed to the far end of the warehouse. It felt like a million miles away and Dale found running awkward, then realized he still had their spent Hexad in his front pocket from earlier at the house. He'd been sat looking at it, careful not to set it off, while he was on the sofa. Inspecting it he'd realized there was a sort of neutral setting, where the rings that made up the various dials could all be aligned in a row, the etched markings making a single line up the side once they were set right. He put it in his pocket when he lay down, an unconscious act that now didn't seem like anything of the sort as an idea came to him.
"What are you doing?" hissed Amanda, as Dale stopped and ran back toward the room they'd just escaped from, his head ringing, sure he'd lost some hearing from the slaps to the head.
"Wait there. Don't move," he warned.
Dale set the device as he ran, and as he got close the door opened, Laffer shambling out, one hand delicately cupping his groin. He looked angry. Really, really angry. Dale checked the Hexad one more time, then threw it at the ambling giant, domed end first. He prayed his aim was good, and that it would hit its mark.
Mimicking Laffer's use of a Hexad just a few minutes ago it sailed through the air and found its target perfectly — it smacked into the hairy man's head and he blinked out of existence. Dale ran back into the room, saw the look of confusion on the man's face, and ran over to the desk, grabbing the Hexad Laffer had placed there when they arrived. About to run back out Dale thought better of it and instead charged the shocked man and feeling kind of unheroic for attacking an old, frail man, he nonetheless slammed a fist into his face as hard as he could. The man collapsed on the floor, like a twig falling from a tree.