by LK Walker
“You can let go of my shirt.” Zander takes my hand as I release the bunched-up material. He starts to move off, like he’s going somewhere, trying to release my hand. But I can’t bring myself to let go so I squeeze his tight. Today, I need his strength. Thankfully, he takes the hint and sits back down.
“Found it.” Coby sounds elated. “Drug trial—Seattle—canceled mid-trial due to side effects. Oh man—were they allowed to call death a side effect back then?” He mutters away for a little longer. “Oh, here we go. The drug affects the brain waves. It would have put him in a state that would permit a connection.”
“So, does that mean someone has worked out that you’re bringing me forward?”
“Not necessarily. You—future you…,” Coby begins.
“Watch what you say,” Zander interrupts.
“I was only going to say that younger Cara is important enough to prompt interest without knowing we are visiting her—okay?” Coby puts his hands up in submission. “We didn’t invent this technology.”
“Yeah, okay. Sorry,” Zander says
“It's fine. We'll get this shit sorted and back on track soon enough,” Coby says. Even I appreciate the empty sentiment. Coby turns away for a while longer, standing still. I can only assume he is on his comms unit again.
“Has this Tony said what he intends on doing with you?” Zander asks.
“No. Sounds like they haven't told him yet. He’s scheduled for another catch up tomorrow sometime. They’re going to tell him then.”
“You’ve got time to get out, Cara. He won't do anything stupid before he talks to his contact,” Zander says.
“What if I can't? Tell me this doesn't have to end badly. I’ve had enough time to think about it and I haven’t come up with a scenario where they would want me kidnapped in the past and then let me go at the end of it.” It's the thought that's been going around in my head all day. Tony seems naive to the idea, or he is more heartless than I would have guessed. Either way, I've seen how his face lights up at the idea of being wealthy. Given the choice, I think he might kill me.
Zander doesn't answer me. He must be thinking the same thing.
“Your friend, Tony, died three weeks ago, aged seventy-eight, from heart failure. That’s young.” Coby tells us.
“That's at least a little good news,” Zander says.
“How is that good news?” I ask.
“It means their technology for time augmentation is no further ahead than ours. They haven't worked out how to connect with minds without them being dead in the future. They need the actual brain to map it...” I don't know whether it’s the look on my face that stops him talking or if the logic has finally caught up with his mouth.
“I'm dead.” I let the statement fall from my lips. And it drops like a rock. Everybody’s faces fall with it.
“Shit.” Zander slams his hand on the bed next to him.
“In the future—now, here—I'm dead?” I ask, fearful of the answer.
“You weren't supposed to find out this way. We were going to ease you in to the idea,” Zander replies.
Coby whispers to Peche, “At least it wasn't me that said it. He might have beaten me to a pulp for letting that slip.” His words are just loud enough for me to hear. Zander appears too lost in regret to have caught it, though.
“That's why you wouldn't bring her in to see me, to talk me into coming to the future. Because she's dead.”
“Yes,” Zander confirms my fears.
“I'm a dead woman, in a dead woman's body.”
“You're still you in there, very much alive.” He’s trying to make this better.
“You need me because I'm dead.” I lurch away from Zander pulling my hand from his. I accidently strike the arm of the prone body behind me. “No JT.” My stomach drops. “JT's dead too?”
Zander’s nod confirms my fear.
The shocks are becoming graver by the second.
“Did we die together?” I ask. I’m not sure how much I want to know.
Zander fidgets on his set, tormented by my questions. “Please, Cara”
“Did we die together?” My voice is raised.
“I know this will seem heartless, but you need to stop asking questions. I can't give you any more answers. You shouldn’t know this much,” Zander says.
Coby and Peche are staying exceedingly quiet. I’m not sure I’ve seen either of them move, not even a twitch since Zander dropped the bombshell.
“Oh God. You said Jack and Eli couldn’t come either. Are they both dead too?” My hand covers my mouth trying to stop a scream from escaping.
“Please, Cara. Stop asking.” Zander tries to move closer to me. I do the opposite, shimmying backwards on the table. The cord attached to the back of my neck catches under my leg but stays connected.
“They are, aren’t they? Tell me.” I demand.
Zander looks torn. He holds my gaze for a while before uttering the words, “I can't. They’ll re-assign me.”
“Screw it.” Peche’s voice comes from behind me. “Zander's on thin ice for the last stunt we pulled, telling you about the future and then erasing your memory. They tried to shut the whole project down. But let’s be honest we have no real idea what will affect the past.”
“Stop,” Zander says.
“No.” Peche walks towards us. “They can pull me from the team if they like but she's scared and that will be affecting her cognitive experience. She'll take that back into an environment that already sounds horrific at best.” No one argues with her. “Cara. Yes, you and JT are dead. You died together. But don't worry about Jack and Eli. They are both definitely still healthy and alive.”
My vision blurs. There is a cracking pain in my cheek that doesn't make sense. In the space of a blink, I'm back in the barn, my arms are burning and my feet are numb. Tony stands before me with his hands on his hips.
“Wow. You were out to it,” he jokes.
“Did you hit me?” My cheek is stinging. There isn't a trace of guilt on his face.
“I tried to shake you awake, but you’re a deep sleeper. I thought I might have lost you.” Tony heads to the tool bench and grabs a plate and a water bottle sitting there. He brings them over and balances the plate on my lap, and the places the bottle on the floor. The food looks amazing and smells delicious. It’s still sitting in the cardboard takeaway dish it came in. I can feel heat radiating off it through the blanket and onto my thighs. How long has it been since I had food? Tony heads back to the bench and picks up something black. I have no idea what it is until it drops to his side. It's a gun. He looks awkward holding it like it might carry a contagious disease.
“Is that brand new?” I ask out of nervousness, not curiosity. It’s such a stupid question. What does it matter if it’s second hand, it’s still a bloody gun.
“Yes. The government men thought I might need it to keep you in line. I only just collected it. Do you know how hard it is to get a gun when you don’t have a license? Having a wad of cash helps.”
“It doesn't suit you.”
“Perhaps not. But I think you'll appreciate it soon.”
“What?” As I try and comprehend what he means, I begin to panic. My heart pounds in my ears and I can hardly hear my own voice. “Wait. Um. What...” I can't even string a sentence together. There aren't too many escape possibilities when you’re tied up and he has a firearm.
“Relax.” He laughs at my stuttering. “I'm going to untie your hands so you can have a stretch and eat your food.” He waggles the gun around like it’s a toy. “This is only for my security. I don't want to use it, so don’t do anything stupid and we’ll be fine.”
I'm glad I can't stand. My legs wouldn't hold me. Even tied to chair legs they're shaking.
“Do you think you could?” I ask.
“What, use it? If you’re thinking about screwing with my head, don’t. The government men made it clear they know where I live, Cara. They didn’t say anything else, but it sure sounded like a threa
t.
“They can’t get to you here,” I say.
“What would you know about what they can and can’t do?” Tony dismisses me with a wave of his hand and turns his back.
“Trust me. I know. They’re not here, they can’t touch you.”
He twists around in a flash. “They talk to you too?” His eyes are wide in anticipation.
“Sort of,” I mumble.
Tony moves quickly towards me, pulling the meal from my lap and carelessly plopping it on the floor. I’m grateful it’s a takeaway dish with high sides. Otherwise there’d be little left for me to eat, and the delectable smell has made me ravenous.
Tony’s hands start groping me. No, he’s patting me down. He checks my pockets and socks.
“I know!” He mutters to himself before putting his hand down my shirt and into my bra. I bite down on his arm and he shrieks as my teeth mark his skin, threatening to break the surface. My response was instinctual. Perhaps not an advantageous one. Tony looks livid.
“Where are your pills?” He roars at me.
“I don’t have any,” I yell back.
“You’re lying. How else can they talk to you?”
I now understand. He thinks I take pills to talk to them too. “You didn’t exactly give me time to pack when you bundled me into the boot.” Better he thinks my conversations occur through the same means, in case he starts telling others my secrets.
He stands silently looking at me before his feet shuffle and he nods to himself. “Good. I don’t need you talking to anyone.” He’s calming down.
“They can’t get you, Tony.” I try to sound reassuring, like a mother calming a child’s fears. “They’re from the future. They have no sway here other than in your mind.”
“From the future? Can you hear what you’re saying? Ridiculous. You’re only trying to save your own hide. They’ve shown me what they can do. They nearly killed my cousin.” He dumps the plate of food back in my lap. “Gave him a small heart attack. Told me next time it would be the real deal and they would do it to someone I really care about.”
How easy would it be to check medical records in the future? His futurist puppet masters would have known the heart attack was coming and used it as leverage. Whoever is playing Tony as a marionette, has been thorough.
Tony rubs his perfectly formed, red bite-mark. “I’m glad I have the gun now. Be grateful I’m going to let you eat after that performance.”
I lose sight of Tony as he walks behind me. I hear the metal clink of his gun as he places it on the concrete floor. His hands start working on the knot behind my back. It slackens.
“Be smart, Cara.” Metal scraping on concrete—he's picked the gun back up. I unravel the remainder of the knot.
Groaning, I move my arms forward, the muscles in my chest relax for the first time in hours. My wrists are raw and covered in tiny flecks of blood. Without looking any closer at the damage, I give them a delicate rub before going after the water. Tony stalks around in front of me, two hands gripping the gun. He wants me to be wary. I’m too hungry to care.
The food in the container is awash with gravy. There is chicken and vegetables under the slosh. I devour every last morsel, even going so far as to run my finger around the container to pick up any bits I missed.
“Hands back,” Tony says as soon as the plate is clean. He's not wasting any time getting out of here. After setting the plate on the floor, I lean back and do as I’m told without protesting. I'm surprised to see a section of white cotton material being pulled from his pocket. It splits into two pieces.
“Your wrists looked sore from the rope. Thought it might help to have this around them. Not sure you deserve it.” He wraps a piece of cloth around each of my raw wrists before tying the rope back in place, pulling sharply to ensure the knot is tight. The thin padding doesn’t count for much as the rope bites back into the flesh. I let out a yelp so he knows what sort of pain he’s putting me through.
Tony comes back around to stand in front of me. There is pity in his eyes.
“That's the best I can do for now.” He places the blanket back over my knees, taking the edge and pulling it up around my shoulders as if he’s tucking me into bed. “One more night like this, that’s all.”
“Do you honestly not know what they want with me?”
“They never said.” He shakes his head.
“How far are you willing to go on the instructions of people you've never met?”
“They probably want me to hand you over, or something.”
“If it was that easy, why wouldn't they come and get me themselves.”
“I don't know.” He yells at me. A vein leaps out on his forehead. He's either got one hell of a temper or is emotionally unstable. He turns away and recuperates from his outburst. “Perhaps, they can't look to be taking part in the abduction of military personal.” He suggests. “I watched the uniforms walk in and out of your work.”
“I'm not military.”
“You work at a military building.”
“That doesn’t make me military.”
“Well, I can't be expected to know it all.”
“You know enough. Like where we are. You said we were in Montana. Where?”
“A smidge over the border. Nowhere really. Not far from Missoula. Have you heard of it?”
“No.” I say, honestly. Although, I hope the flaw in my geography knowledge will be rectified soon enough.
He takes one last breath and walks towards the door. “One more night, that’s all. Tomorrow morning they’ll tell me what to do next. You should go back to sleep—make it a shorter wait.”
Tony disappears out the door, my empty plate in one hand and that gun dangling from the other.
Chapter 28
Dusk’s translucent peach glaze covers the interior of the shed. It offers the sharp corners of the bench and the mottled wooden door a softness they don’t deserve. The meal has renewed my vitality and neither my rampant thoughts or my twitching muscles allow me enough respite to drift back off to sleep. I watch in agitation as the light fades into darkness.
The moon can’t be in the sky yet as the darkness is total. I strain to hear any noises but, other than the gusts of wind rattling the door, it’s quiet out there.
I’d convinced myself I would hear something, a car, a train, anything. Logically, there must be shops nearby. The gun and the food had to come from somewhere. But I hear nothing to suggest civilization is anywhere near us.
Jack and Eli are going to be frantic by now. I wonder what they’re doing, whether they’ve told Dad. I don’t know how well he will take being told his daughter has been kidnapped. Maybe Eli will hold off for a while. I hope he has. I imagine us, Eli, Dad and me, sitting around Dad’s solid pine dining table having a meal together again. It brings me a trifle of peace. With my eyes closed and my head resting against the pole behind me, I use that image to help me relax.
“Zander we have a connection. She’s back. Cara is back,” Coby is ecstatic.
“Oh my God! Cara.” Zander grabs my shoulder as soon as I sit up and folds me into a bear hug. I hadn’t considered what my sudden departure would have looked like for them. They had obviously considered death had been an option.
“Sorry for leaving so suddenly. Tony insisted I eat my dinner right there and then.”
Zander’s hands shift up and down my arms, grasping gently with each movement. It’s as if he’s checking I’m real. “At least he's feeding you,” he says, grinning.
“You're being overly optimistic. Forgive me if I don't share it.” I say dryly. “I was woken by a slap across the face and then made to scoff my food at gunpoint. I'm not feeling overly grateful.”
“A gun?” Zander doesn’t miss a thing.
“Yip. It's all shiny and new. Tony waves it around like he might wash the windows with it.”
The last time I was here, the blonde man was lying motionless on the bed behind me. Now, he is coming at me from the other room, long legs quic
kly closing the distance, with his arms out. Coby is nearly knocked over as the man pushes past him. I stand up to take the brunt of the impact. He crushes me to his chest. Coby must have all the right wires hooked up this time. My shoulders don’t hurt and the man’s body heat warms me through.
“Oh, Doll Face. I missed you.” He pulls back and holds me at arm’s length, looking me over. “The new look might take a bit of getting used to.”
“JT?” I play with a strand of his blonde hair that has fallen over his left eye. His new appearance doesn't mute his personality. It still feels like him.
“Come on. I look good.” JT runs long fingers through his shoulder length hair, combing it up on top of his head. It sits in position for a second before falling back around his ears. He raises his eyebrows and gives me a suggestive smile. “I'd do me and I'm very fussy.”
I can’t hold back the smirk. “It could be worse.” I concede, recalling the beautiful girl who looks back at me in the mirror.
“These guys have been catching me up on the happenings.” He indicates to the others in the room. “Are you okay?” JT asks with a heavy dosing of concern.
“I'm fine.” There is no answer that adequately explains how I feel right at this moment.
“I'm going to find your little drug man and beat him to a pulp,” JT says in all seriousness.
“I'd appreciate that.” I feel better that someone from my time, when it’s all happening, is here with me. “You aren't making this place home tonight?”
“We come through together.” JT still has one arm wrapped around me holding me tight. I tuck in a little closer.
“I’m ready to come through too,” I say.
Coby makes a strange ‘ah’ noise. He’s baring his bottom teeth. There’s definitely bad news about to be imparted.
“What is it?” I ask.
“We need to know what happens to you first, as a precaution,” Coby explains. “Before we decide when, or if, you come through.”
“You mean you need to see if the half-baked psycho kills me.”
“It’s only a delay, that’s all, until we understand what’s happening. We'll delay the transfer until we know you’re safe,” Zander says.