Time Walker: Episode 2 of The Walker Saga

by Shannan Sinclair

  Sigmund looked at Thomas, keeping his knife at her belly and his grip on her throat. “You listen very carefully, Thomas. You will do exactly as I say, or I will kill them both.”

  Thomas looked at Astrid’s face turning red, struggling to breathe, and nodded.

  “Say goodbye now. Because you’re coming with me.”

  Oh, the anguish on his face!

  Tap, tap, tap.

  The tears that welled up in his eyes!

  Tap, tap, tap.

  The sob that escaped. “Goodbye, Astrid.”

  Tap, tap, tap, TAP, TAP–

  Sigmund opened his eyes, ready to scream at the bitch nurse coming in with his breakfast.

  But it wasn’t his nurse. His prison guard, Troy Kellen, slowly, deliberately walked toward him across the room.

  Tap…tap…tap.

  He came to Sigmund’s bedside, looming over him with a sick, shit-eating grin on his face. “Good morning, Sigmund.”

  Fifteen

  “Ahh, ah, ah, Aislen, stay with me now. C’mon. Stay with me.” Raze lifted Aislen’s limp body from the chair, holding her in one arm as he gently slapped her face a few times.

  He ran his hand up and down her arm trying to stimulate her blood flow and bring her back, but she had already slipped under.

  This was his fault. He’d put her into Theta 4 to keep her calm, but it was too deep for too long, and the light jazz and mood lighting of Alpha 14 was not rousing enough to anchor her into consciousness.

  “Beta 20,” he told The Womb.

  The Womb responded, increasing the lighting to 10,000 lux and 4000 kelvins. The jazz faded.

  “Energize,” he commanded.

  The Womb promptly played a song engineered to emotionally and physiologically affect Aislen’s brain.

  “Aislen, c’mon now, wake up.” Raze rubbed her arm harder, warming her up, then combed his fingers through her hair and circled them across her temples and down her neck.

  She took a breath and opened her eyes again. As the deep sleep fell away she realized just how close he was, how he was holding her, how he was touching her, and her body went rigid.

  “Hey, it’s okay! I’m not going to hurt you.” Raze pulled his fingers from her hair, showing them to her. “I just need to get you good and awake, and I’ll let you go. You were asleep too long. We have to sober you up.”

  He propped her up by herself and moved both hands up and down her arms and shoulders. Aislen stared at him wide-eyed.

  “Do you think you can stand up? It would help.”

  She cocked her head to the side like she still didn’t understand.

  “C’mon, let’s try to get up on your feet.”

  Raze stood up in front of her, helped her turn her legs around to the floor. He reached down and held both her arms as he helped lift her to her feet. He walked backward, guiding her across the room. She watched him, not where she was walking, more hesitant and confused about him than she was about her strength. She was unsteady but did better than he expected.

  They made it to the open doorway, and Aislen looked out into the vast darkness of the undeveloped warehouse, hopelessness clouding her eyes.

  “How did that feel?” Raze tried to distract her from the dismal view. He didn’t need her falling apart right now.

  Aislen stared at him, still mute.

  “Do you feel dizzy or nauseous?”

  She nodded her head, imperceptibly, but it was something.

  “Okay, let’s get you back to the chair.”

  Raze let go of her arms and let her turn back and walk on her own. He kept one hand on the small of her back to help her keep steady. This wasn’t a role he was used to, being helpful or feeling concerned. A few days ago—hell, this morning– it would have been repugnant to him. But at this moment, it was natural. He was concerned. His life depended on her. He’d bought them some time, but she needed to get up to speed so they could figure out the best course of action.

  Their fates were intertwined now. It was a fact that he had accepted when he faced The 8 and then lied to and manipulated them.

  Aislen slid back into the chair.

  “Are you cold?”

  She didn’t speak, only pulled her knees closer to her chest.

  “That’s good,” he answered her body language. “I brought the room up to Low Beta to get you back. It drops the temperature down. I need you to stay like this until I know you are stable and alert. We need to talk.”

  Aislen eyed him with suspicion. Raze wasn’t much of a talker—in fact, this was the most he’d spoken to a stranger in weeks—but her silence was frustrating. He was going to have to get her to communicate so they could make a plan that would keep them both alive. He was going to have to get her to trust him before his patience gave out.

  “I’m going to get some OJ and water for you.” Raze tried sounding more “nice,” whatever “nice” was. But it sounded fake, like a kindergarten teacher at a parent/teacher conference. “And then I need to work on getting us some real food. You need to eat so you can function better.”

  She responded by hugging her legs tighter. She wasn’t buying the compassionate Raziel schtick.

  “Wait here a minute. I’ll be right back,” he said, as if she had a choice. Raze turned and left her in The Womb with the door open. Even if she tried, she wouldn’t find a way out through the warehouse. And she was in no shape to run.

  He bounded back up the zigzag staircase and into the house, grabbed a bottle of juice and two waters from the fridge, then snagged a blanket off the couch on his way back.

  As he expected, Aislen was in the same posture when he got back. Maybe her eyes were a bit wider with the shock that he’d left her alone with the door open.

  He opened the juice and handed it to her. “Drink that now. It will get your blood sugar up.” She took it and guzzled it down. She was dehydrated. It had been 12 hours since he had snatched her from the hospital parking lot.

  He opened the waters and set them next to the chair. “You can drink these while I’m getting food.”

  She stared at him in response. He couldn’t read what she was thinking and finally gave up.

  As he turned to leave, she found her voice. It was a whisper, but it was something.

  “Is there a restroom in here?”

  He’d forgotten about that part. He wasn’t used to having a pet. Raze considered the options. He could bring down a bucket, his former self suggested, but his new, not-so-improved self didn’t want to humiliate her or deal with that.

  “Do you feel strong enough to walk up some stairs?”

  She nodded.

  “Do you still know my signature frequency?”

  She nodded again.

  “Okay, then match that and follow me.”

  She got up of the chaise and came to the doorway.

  “Stay close so the Qis can’t differentiate between us. The house is live. And after this morning, they will be looking for discrepancies.”

  Aislen nodded that she understood, and they moved together up the stairs and through the mirror into the bedroom.

  “Shower. Jet.” Raze commanded. The shower turned on. That would provide some interference.

  “Metal.” The Womb laid down some Metallica. Raze pushed open the bathroom door. “You will have to make this quick.”

  Yet another nod as she slipped around him and shut the door. She followed his orders and was back out quickly. He grabbed her hand and pulled her in behind him. They moved again together down the stairs and back into The Womb.

  She returned to her position on the chaise, wrapping the blanket he brought around her.

  “Better?” he asked once she was settled.

  Again with the nodding.

  Raze was exasperated now. “I need you to stay in here while I get food.” The edge was back in his voice. “I bought us some time this morning, but I need you at 100 percent–sooner rather than later. I’ll figure something out for when I get back. So be ready.”

>   No response.

  Fuck it. He turned to leave. “Alpha 10.”

  The lighting faded back down, and the music shifted back to light jazz.

  “Could you leave the lights up, please?”

  Ahh! A voice. Raze assessed Aislen. She looked like a child afraid of the dark.

  “Alpha 14,” he commanded, and The Womb recalibrated. “Is everything okay?” he asked.

  Aislen winced.

  Of course everything wasn’t okay. She had been kidnapped and was being held hostage. But that wasn’t her reasoning.

  “The dreams…” she whispered, as though if she mentioned them, they would hear her. “They’ve gotten worse.”

  That was hard to believe, given that the first “dream” he’d found her in was a murder scene. He moved closer to the chaise and knelt down beside her so he could look her eye to eye.

  “First, they are not dreams. You should call them what they are: a Viewing, or Traveling. But stop invalidating them as just dreams. The sooner you address them for what they are, the sooner you can navigate them with control and purpose.”

  Aislen thought about that and nodded.

  “Viewings do not easily bend to your will like dreams do,” Raze continued. “You have to assert yourself in order to manipulate it. You have to approach them like reality.”

  She nodded again. “Like reality.”

  “Yes. Reality.”

  Aislen thought about this for a moment, then tentatively asked, “Is it possible to Travel back in time in this reality?”

  Raze was taken aback. “You think you’ve been going back in time?”

  Another nod, this time confident.

  This was a shocking development. This was like Level X shit. “Yes. It is very possible. Backwards and forward. But it can be risky, especially if you are new. Most operatives stay in the present for their Viewings.”

  There was no sign of relief on her face from his answer. In fact, she looked even more petrified.

  Raze stood up. “We can talk about this more when I get back. Drink some water and try to relax. But stay awake! You’ve Traveled enough for today.”

  He left her sitting in The Womb, looking like a child waiting for the Boogeyman. Raze had a distinct feeling that he was no longer the worst nightmare she was having.

  Sixteen

  The door slid shut behind him, and Aislen was left alone again in the strange laboratory.

  He had changed. One person had left her in here the first time, and another, completely different person, had come back: Dr. Jekyll into Mr. Hyde. And it wasn’t just his demeanor that had shifted, but his signature frequency had, too. Aislen noticed it when she matched him before going upstairs. When they first got here, she felt a resonance with him, like they clicked into place when she matched him. But that didn’t happen this time. He felt different, off.

  While it should have been reassuring that the Raziel who was just in the room was legitimately concerned for her well-being, it was actually more disconcerting. Who would he be when he got back? If this was reality, it was shifting faster than her dreams.

  Travels, she corrected herself. If she needed to call them what they were, that’s the only thing they could be. She was definitely going to another place, and she was definitely going to another time.

  She was seeing the past. She was seeing how it all began with her great-grandfather, Sigmund Lange, and his experiments. Sigmund had discovered Thomas Reed, then developed a superior version of him.

  Aislen thought back to when she’d been pulled out of the basement–out of the Viewing, as Raziel called it. Thomas and Astrid in bed together, and Astrid pregnant! Astrid would be Aislen’s grandmother…and if she had that baby, that baby would be her father! Aislen was seeing his history first-hand, seeing how he came to be… how she came to be…how all of it, this situation, this place she was in, Raziel, came to be.

  She had so many questions. She knew Raziel could explain, maybe even help, but that would mean she would have to trust him.

  Aislen shuddered. How could she trust her kidnapper? How could she trust the man who had used a little boy, orchestrated a murder… who had hunted her down and tried to destroy her? He was holding her captive like Sigmund had held Thomas.

  But she remembered his arms around her when she woke up, the fire as he rubbed her arms, the intensity in his eyes as he looked at her. He seemed genuinely concerned as he steadied her while she walked across the room.

  But there was the disconcerting warmth of his hand on the small of her back and the electricity that coursed through her body in his presence. It scared her, the contradictory ways that he made her feel.

  She could take the chance and trust him. Or she could figure out a way to escape.

  Aislen curled up in the chaise and pulled the blanket over her head. She didn’t want to think about any of it. She wanted to block it all out, this reality and all the others.

  She closed her eyes and let it all slip away.

  ∞

  Troy Kellen hovered over Sigmund, a twisted smirk on his face.

  “Mr. Lange, you’ve been a very bad boy. You’ve created a complete and utter mess of everything.” Troy leaned down into his face, so close that Sigmund could smell the peppermint from his toothpaste. “You need to tell me where Aislen Walker is, Mr. Lange. And you need to tell me right now.”

  Sigmund’s aged mouth worked itself, but even moving his tongue was a struggle. “She’s mine,” he managed to growl.

  Troy reached his hand down to Sigmund’s chest, grabbing the sheets and blankets and part of Sigmund’s paper-thin skin.

  “She is not yours. And you will tell me where she is, or I will snap every fucking bone in your body until you do.”

  “She’s Traveling,” Sigmund rasped.

  Troy’s grip tightened. “Her body, you decrepit fool!”

  “I don’t know.” Sigmund’s tongue had loosened up, and he continued. “But you should help me…you should help me find her. If you bring her to me, I will make it very worth your while.”

  Troy scoffed. “You will make it worth my while, huh? You are delusional, old man. You are a dinosaur. You have no power here anymore. In fact, you are completely unnecessary. I don’t give a fuck what Raziel says about eliminating all of you at once. He can go fuck himself, too. You have outlived your purpose, and I am sick of babysitting you.”

  Troy moved his hand up to Sigmund’s throat and closed his grip around it.

  There was a tap at the window and a knock on the hospital room door.

  Troy instantly released his grip and stepped back, casually leaning against the wall as if he hadn’t a care in the world.

  As Nurse Rachel wheeled her med cart in, Sigmund noticed the waif moving from the window and across the floor. A flurry of energy moved around the room, a cool breeze of fresh air. He could smell her there.

  “Ashlyn! You came!” Sigmund cried out.

  “Good afternoon, Mr. Lange! No. No Aislen today, I’m afraid. You get me today!” Rachel looked to Troy. “Well, good afternoon to you, too, Troy! I wasn’t expecting you here!”

  “Yeah, yeah… just making a few rounds this afternoon.”

  “Well, lucky me! Aislen is usually the one who gets all the pleasure of your company.” Rachel winked at him, then turned her attention back to Sigmund. “Okay, Mr. Lange. It’s time for your meds.”

  “I don’t need meds!” Sigmund shouted. “I need Ashlyn!”

  “Aislen will be here in the morning, Mr. Lange. I will make sure she comes in for a visit.”

  Troy perked up. “She will?”

  Rachel gave him a sly smile. “She’s on the schedule for tomorrow. How is that coming along anyway? Shouldn’t you be taking advantage of her night off and taking that girl out on a date?”

  “It’s coming along just fine,” Troy said, giving her one of his knowing smiles.

  Rachel giggled like a girl half her age, melting under the mesmerizing charm Troy plied her with.

&nb
sp; “I would love to take her out tonight, in fact,” Troy continued. “Unfortunately, I’m having a hard time getting hold of her today. You wouldn’t by any chance know where she is, would you?”

  “She’s right here!!!!” Sigmund was infuriated. He searched the room trying to find her essence. “Ashlyn, please! I need you!”

  Rachel moved to the side of the bed, white cup in hand. “Mr. Lange, I need you to calm down, or we are going to have to restrain you. Aislen will be here in the morning, and I will have her come in straight away. Now, let’s take these meds; they will make you feel better.”

  “I don’t need your stupid pills, you stupid cunt!” Sigmund swung his arm up, knocking the pills from her hand and hitting the side of her face in the process.

  Rachel recoiled. “Mr. Lange! That is unacceptable! I’m sorry, but you will have to be restrained if you are going to be combative. Troy, can you help me please?”

  “Sure thing.” Troy pulled up the restraints from his side of the bed as Rachel pulled them up from hers. “This is for your own good, Mr. Lange,” Troy said, masking the obvious pleasure of this turn of events. They strapped his arms down and then moved to the foot of the bed, strapping each of his ankles.

  Rachel moved back to the cart and prepared an injection for Sigmund instead. “As soon as the meds take effect, Mr. Lange, we’ll release you. But you need to be calm, and you cannot act out that way anymore. We don’t want to make this a standard procedure for you now, do we?”

  “Fuck you, bitch!” Sigmund began struggling against the restraints. “Ashlyn! Ashlyn, please! Show yourself to these idiots!”

  Troy looked at Sigmund and then scanned the room for the possibility that she might really be there.

  Rachel came back to the side of the bed with the syringe, lifted the blanket and Sigmund’s gown, then injected him in the buttock.

  “Nooooo! You don’t understand!!” Sigmund screamed at her as loud as he could, infuriated by his helplessness.

  “There, there now, Mr. Lange,” Rachel said as she rubbed the spot on his hip. “That should make it all better. Troy, can you watch him for a bit while I finish my rounds? I’ll document this, then come back and remove the restraints.”