Lost in Time_Split-Second Time Travel Story 1

by Ken Johns

  “It was so horrible.” Evelyn’s words caught in her throat. “You cannot imagine.”

  “I do not have to.” The abbess sniffled. “I thought my heart would break from the pain of it.”

  “Then you know why I am here?” Evelyn asked.

  “You would see Raymond again. Tomorrow when he comes for me, it will be you he finds.” The abbess took out her dagger and dropped it quietly on the bed.

  “Thank you,” said Evelyn. “Let us take a short walk in the forest.”

  Chapter Fifty-Four

  April 26, 1341

  Chad heard the crash of splintering wood and knew they’d found him. He rolled off the bed and crossed to the chest in the corner of the room. He grabbed the MCV and hissed, “Margaret!”

  She rolled over slowly. “What is it, Chaddy?”

  Another crash from downstairs.

  “They’ve found me. Come here. Quickly.”

  She stumbled out of the bed and rushed naked to his side. He hugged her for a moment and handed her the device. “Do you remember what I told you?”

  She was still half-asleep, but she nodded. He held the chest open as she folded herself inside.

  Boots rumbled up the stairs.

  He closed the lid and rushed to the bed.

  John burst into the bedroom. “Don’t bother getting into bed, Chad. We have to go.”

  “Who are you?” Chad sat up.

  John called toward the chest. “Margaret, get dressed. We have to leave.”

  “Hey, man, just tell me what this is about.” Chad reached under his pillow.

  John had his sword out and under Chad’s chin before Chad pulled out whatever he was after. “That would be a mistake, Chad. Trust me.”

  Chad slowly took his hand away from the pillow. A piece of white cloth dangled from his hand. “I was just getting my hanky.” Chad blew his nose.

  “Margaret, please come out of the chest. I won’t hurt you.”

  The lid lifted, and Margaret poked her head out and stood up. “Chad, darling, can you throw me my frock?”

  John had never seen Margaret clean before. She was a beauty, and apparently uninhibited. He gave her the privacy of his back. “Chad, I’m from the future.”

  “Yeah, I got that from your accent. What’s this all about?” Chad found Margaret’s dress and tossed it to her.

  “I’ll tell you after we’re on the road. You’re going to be taken prisoner at dawn and tortured unless we leave now.”

  “Why?” Chad grabbed his pants. He was moving with purpose now.

  John figured torture must have been the motivating word. “All in good time. My family is outside harnessing your horses to the carriage. Bring everything you want to keep. You’re not coming back.”

  Margaret slipped her dress over her head and shrieked.

  John spun around. The girl was pointing to the stairway. He followed her gaze. Old Margaret stood at the top of the stairs. Not good. “Margaret! I told you to wait downstairs.”

  “I’m sorry, John.” Margaret sniffed. “I had to see for myself,” she said, but her eyes never left Chad. “Hello, Chaddy.” She smiled and went back down the stairs.

  “Chaddy!” yelled new Margaret. “Why does that woman look and sound like me?”

  John didn’t let him answer. “You’ll have all day to explain it to her once we’re on the road. Let’s go.”

  Chad threw on a tunic and grabbed his boots.

  “I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what’s going on.” She crossed her arms and stood in the chest.

  “Okay, Chad, time’s up. Does this thing lock?” John pointed at the chest.

  “Yeah, but…”

  John crossed to the chest and pushed down on Margaret’s head.

  “Chad!” She gave way at the knees and folded herself back into it. “Why are you just standing there?”

  John slammed the lid and sat on it. He held out his hand. “Key.”

  Margaret’s muffled shouting was still audible. “Chad. Let me out!”

  Chad handed John the key. He locked it and took an end of the chest. Chad grabbed the other end, and they carried the chest down the stairs and out the door.

  At Chad’s cottage, Mila and Sandra helped Margaret attach the horses to the carriage while John went inside to find Chad. Margaret showed them what to do, then drifted away. Mila assumed she had to relieve herself, but a few minutes later she came out of the cottage with a weird look on her face. John and Chad followed her out, carrying the coin chest between them. They struggled more than Mila and Jess had. “Why’s it so heavy?” Mila said.

  John ignored her and looked at Chad. “Anything else you want to bring?”

  “Nope.” Chad shrugged. “My MCV and my money are in here with Margaret.”

  That explained Margaret’s look. Mila had forgotten there would be two of them. Why was new Margaret in the box? Mila wanted to ask, but John and Chad were struggling to get the chest up on the roof of the carriage.

  “All right, let’s go,” said John when they’d succeeded. “Chad, you ride with me.” He pointed to the driver’s bench as he climbed up.

  Sandra, Mila, and old Margaret climbed inside. The carriage was out of the glen and well down the road toward Annie’s inn when the light of dawn began to filter through the leaves overhead. Mila was almost asleep, despite the constant bumping of the carriage and new Margaret’s muffled protests. That’s when John and Chad started talking. Now there would be no sleep.

  “Can we let Margaret out now?” Chad said.

  “Well, here’s the thing. I don’t know anything about the science of it all, but what if the two Margarets touch?” John asked. “You’ve heard the stories about matter and antimatter being in the same place at the same time, right? Is this like that?”

  Chad took too long to answer.

  “You don’t know, do you?” said John.

  “I gotta say no,” Chad said. “No, I don’t.”

  “She stays in the box, then.”

  “Yup.”

  “Chad!” The chest muffled new Margaret’s shouts. “I heard you!”

  “Can you tell me what happened yet?” asked Chad.

  “Our Margaret knows more of the details than I do, but long story short, you got sloppy. You were captured. They used Margaret to get a confession out of you.”

  “No.” Chad sounded surprised.

  “You sold out your next set of visitors—us—to save her.”

  “Really?”

  Did Chad really think John had made it up? Why would anybody do that? Was Chad that much of an idiot? Mila waited for a biting response from John, but when it came it was more tempered than she had expected.

  “You know what, Chad?” said John. “Don’t talk.”

  “Sorry.”

  “As soon as we arrived, they hunted us like animals. One of my daughters”— John had to pause, and Mila felt his anguish—was burned at the stake. We managed to escape. My other daughter figured out that we could travel back in time and stop it from happening.”

  “Clever girl.”

  “Yeah, she is. Are you done?”

  “Sorry.”

  That made Mila smile. It was nice to hear her father on her side. She could totally get used to that.

  “So, we’re going to meet ourselves on arrival,” continued John. “You’re going to take us—them—immediately back to the future, and our daughter who died will get to live. Clear?”

  “Yeah, but there’s one thing.”

  “What?”

  “If the other you goes back to the future, you have to stay here,” Chad said.

  “We know. You got a solution for that? I’m all ears.”

  Chad said nothing.

  Great. They had clung to the hope that Chad would know the science or the software and come up with a solution. Now that hope was gone. “So that’s the plan,” said John, sounding as disappointed as Mila felt.

  “What about the two Margarets?” said Chad.

&
nbsp; “Your problem,” said John.

  Chapter Fifty-Five

  April 26, 1341

  Captain Henri led his guards out of the fog at the forest’s edge. He stopped his horse where the village path met the Roman road. The moist air sapped the heat from his body, and he pulled at the neck of his chain mail to ease the rings away from his chin. Across the valley, the castle seemed to float in a sea of fog, and he pictured the baron’s dogs sleeping on the warm hearthstones of the great hall. The dogs had it better than the men. But here they were, out in the brisk air just after lauds. Best get to it.

  “Jean-Pierre.”

  “Oui, capitaine?” His tracker hurried over to stand near Henri’s horse.

  The man could speak a little English, but Henri preferred to stick to French so that nuance was not lost and the English guards were not privy to their conversations. “Can we still see the trail?”

  “The tracks are clear until they reach the main road. Then the carriage is lifted up out of the mud, and they are gone.” Jean-Pierre indicated the point where the tracks disappeared.

  “It sounds like we just need to follow the road until we see the tracks leave it. Yes?”

  “Yes, but if we miss them, we could wind up in Canterbury.”

  “Please do not miss them. I have no desire to go to Canterbury today or any day.”

  Henri signaled his squad to follow Jean-Pierre and waited as they marched past him. He dismounted and led his horse up onto the road. Warmer now that he was moving, he settled into the slow but steady pace his men had set.

  Around prime, Jean-Pierre left the road and disappeared behind a copse of oaks.

  “Hold.” The squad stopped at Henri’s command.

  When Jean-Pierre reappeared, he smiled. “We will not be going to Canterbury today.”

  “Perhaps we will be going to Canterbury after all.” Jean-Pierre followed the squad as it marched back out of the glen.

  Henri smiled and remounted. They had searched the cottage, the barn, and the surrounding fields, but there was no sign of the heretic. Henri squeezed his horse, and it caught up to Jean-Pierre. “The barn door was open when we arrived, was it not?”

  “Oui.”

  It was still too cold for the door to be left open at night, yet there was no one tending to the livestock, and the carriage was missing. Something was not right. “They must be close. Quickly now.”

  Jean-Pierre ran to the front of the squad.

  They climbed up onto the Roman road and followed Jean-Pierre as he picked up fresh tracks that led away from the castle and deeper into the forest.

  Chapter Fifty-Six

  April 26, 1341

  Mila woke up to the sound of Richard’s voice.

  “Where is Margaret?”

  When John steered the carriage down the path in front of Annie’s inn, Richard was there to meet them. He hurried along beside the carriage, looking up at John and trying to peek inside the gaps in the curtains.

  “She’s fine, Richard. Don’t worry,” said John. “She’s in the carriage.”

  “Who’s the freak?” Chad said.

  “Don’t be an asshole, Chad. He already killed you once.”

  “Killed me? What? You never said that.”

  “Well, now you know, so be nice.”

  The carriage stopped near the front of the inn. Mila, Margaret, and Sandra stepped out of the vehicle and stretched after the long ride.

  John climbed down and pointed out the chest to Richard. “Can you help me lift this down?”

  “Yes.” Richard grabbed it by himself and hoisted it off the carriage.

  “Carefully. It has precious cargo.”

  Richard placed it on the ground between them.

  Margaret went over to Richard. “How are you, big man?”

  “I am well.” He smiled. “I am happy that you are back.”

  Chad wandered over and tried to pull Margaret into a hug. “It’s good to see you.”

  Richard lowered his brows and clenched his fists, and Mila thought there might be a fight. But Margaret placed a palm on Chad’s chest and pushed him off.

  “No, Chaddy. Do you not see? You were dead.”

  “But Margaret… I thought you were my girl.”

  Richard loomed closer and stood between Chad and Margaret.

  Sandra touched John’s back, gently pushing him toward the trio and nodding not so subtly at Richard.

  “All right,” John said. “Margaret, can you teach Richard how to feed and water the horses?” Margaret nodded. “Thank you. We need to leave again as soon as you’re finished.”

  She led the animals, still pulling the carriage, around to the stable behind the inn. Richard glared at Chad then followed Margaret.

  “Mila, I need you to make sure Richard stays by the stable. I don’t think he could handle seeing two Margarets.”

  “I think you’re right.” Mila followed Richard and Margaret toward the stable. She stopped at the corner of the inn, where she could see the stables but still hear John and Chad. There was no way she was going to miss this.

  “You can’t leave her in there all day.” Sandra pointed at the chest.

  “I know. I’m getting to it,” said John. “Hey, Chad, you need to start thinking about boxed Margaret. She is still your girl.”

  “Yeah,” said Chad, sounding almost disappointed. “I guess you’re right. This is confusing, man.”

  “I don’t doubt it.” John leaned over the chest and took the key out of his pocket. “You have to keep boxed Margaret under control. Can you?”

  “I think so, dude.”

  “Can or can’t, Chad. Otherwise she stays in the box.”

  “Can, can. Why are you such a hard-ass, man? You sound like a drill sergeant or something.”

  Mila smiled. Chad was learning, albeit slowly.

  John knocked on the lid of the chest. “Margaret, can you hear me?”

  “Yes!” New Margaret offered a muffled yell.

  “I’m going to let you out now.”

  “Well it’s about bloody time!”

  “We’re going to explain why we’ve been keeping you in the box.”

  “I don’t care. I just want out.”

  “You have to listen to me once I open the box. If you can’t listen to me, I can’t open the box.”

  “What do you mean, you can’t open the box? You’ve got the bloody key!”

  “Margaret, are you going to listen to me?”

  There was silence from the box. “How about this? You open this box right bloody now or I’ll start playing with this wee ball.”

  John stuck the key in the lock, turned it, and whipped the lid open. He reached in and tried to grab the MCV out of her hands. She bit his forearm. He yanked his arm back.

  Margaret clutched the MCV to her bosom. “Start talking.”

  “Chad, you tell her.” John held the gash on his arm. Blood showed through his fingers.

  “Here, let me see it.” Sandra lifted John’s hand up. “Let’s wash it and dress it.” She gestured toward the inn. John hesitated, then followed her toward the door.

  Chapter Fifty-Seven

  April 27, 1341

  Somebody knocked on the roof of the carriage as it came to a stop. Mila opened her eyes. They had stopped at the turnoff to the bluebell meadow. The plan was to leave Lady Evelyn, Margaret, and Richard there while they went to the meadow to say goodbye to Jess.

  Mila, Sandra, and Lady Evelyn stepped out of the carriage.

  “This is the place,” said Chad as he and John climbed down from the driver’s bench.

  New Margaret slid toward the door, but John shut it before she could come out.

  “Chaddy!” new Margaret yelled from inside the carriage. “I want to come out.”

  “You’re up, Chad,” said John.

  Chad huffed then climbed inside next to her. “Let me keep you company. It will only be a little while longer.”

  Mila closed the door behind Chad. The carriage only had ro
om for four, plus two on the driver’s bench, so they had had to choose who would walk and who would ride. Old Margaret and Richard were the logical choice to walk. It helped keep the Margarets apart and kept Richard from discovering that there were, in fact, two of them. As she watched the road, old Margaret and Richard rounded the last bend and walked toward the carriage. There was about a minute left before they arrived.

  John said to Lady Evelyn, “Chad figures we’ll be gone most of the morning. We’ll try to be as quick as we can.”

  Lady Evelyn nodded. “I suggest you hurry. When Henri does not find Chad at his cottage, he will continue his search—first to Annie’s and then along this very road.”

  “Ladies.” John nodded Mila and Sandra toward the carriage, and they climbed in. He banged the side of the carriage with his palm. “Chad, you stay put. I’ll drive.”

  The carriage was parked under the solitary oak. Chad stood in the bluebells nearby, while a gust whipped the flowers into an angry sea. He slipped his hood over his head and pulled Margaret’s face to his chest to shield her eyes. The meadow ignited in a plasma flash, and when the light dissipated, he removed his hood.

  Just up the slope, four people had arrived. He saw John bend over and hold Sandra’s hair while she threw up. Mila sank to her knees and held her stomach. A gorgeous woman he didn’t recognize stretched and tried to fix her hair. She had to be Jess. Chad took Margaret by the hand and walked toward them. “Welcome to the fourteenth century. I’m Chad, your tour guide. This is my friend Margaret.”

  “Hi, Chad. Margaret,” John said. “This is my wife Sandra, and our daughters Jess and Mila.”

  “Hello.” Chad nodded toward them.

  Margaret reached toward Jess’s head. “Ah luv yer hair.” She tried the Texan accent he’d been teaching her.

  Chad brushed his foot through the bluebells between them. He felt the fallen MCV before he saw it. Marking the spot with his toe, he bent and scooped it up. It did not become visible until he held it up to the light. Only then did the auto-camo response shut off. A ball of bluebells reverted to just a ball.

  “I’m afraid I have some bad news.” Chad pocketed the device. “We’re going to have to cut short your trip.”