Time Walker: Episode 2 of The Walker Saga

by Shannan Sinclair

  Raziel didn’t even ask what the letter said: he just pulled her into his arms and let her cry into his chest, not shushing her or trying to diminish the pain. His compassion made her cry even more until every last drop of her was spent.

  She laid against his chest as the tears subsided, and still, he held her through the aftershocks.

  Their watches chimed.

  “Can you shift frequencies, Aislen?” he whispered against her hair. She nodded and chose her mother’s frequency, channeling her calm, collected vibration, a solid blue like the deepest of seas. Aislen could almost feel her there, and it settled her soul.

  She reluctantly pushed herself off of Raziel’s chest and looked up at him. “Thank you,” she said, truly grateful. Two, large beams of light swept across his face and then across the wall behind him as a car turned onto their street.

  “Duck,” Raze said, pulling her down toward the floor. “It may be that cop.”

  Instead of leading her out the back door, he pulled her to the front, behind the dining room table, underneath the beams of the headlights. The lights went out as the car pulled into the driveway.

  Stay here, he said to Aislen, who was nestled halfway under the table between the legs of the chairs.

  Raziel left her there as he Army-crawled to a side wall by the large paned window. He carefully pulled aside the curtains and peeked through the slit across the front porch toward the driveway.

  “You gotta be fucking kidding me,” he whispered.

  Thirty-Six

  Just as Mathis suspected, his Uber driver did not bat an eye at his getup. In fact, when he noticed the blood dripping down Mathis’s arm, he offered him a tissue. He also offered him a bottled water and a granola bar, which Mathis gladly accepted.

  Mathis applied pressure to his arm and had the driver head toward Sabine’s house.

  “That bad in there, huh?” Uber asked.

  Mathis wasn’t up for small talk. If he could teleport to Sabine’s, he would have. He grunted and scarfed down the bar in two bites. The driver reached into the center console and grabbed two more, handing them back to Mathis.

  Mathis didn’t refuse. He opened them and stuffed his face.

  “I hate hospitals. They’re the worst.” The driver didn’t seem to care that Mathis wasn’t a conversationalist. He continued with a non-stop stream of chit-chat the whole 30-minute drive out of town. It was fine. Mathis tuned it out, made it static like he was used to now.

  What was he going to say to Sabine when she opened the door? It was crazy that he was showing up to her house like this. She was going to think he was a stalker. Any chance he had with her would be toast. Jackson was right: she was out of his league. He knew that. But she’d given him her number and had flirted with him…that had to count for something. It didn’t mean she would show up at the hospital and sit bedside with him through the night, though. That would be hoping for too much.

  But still, Mathis had felt her there: her presence, her hand in his. He had heard her voice. And he had seen her! Yeah, he was out of his body, on the ceiling…but didn’t that shit happen sometimes? Mathis knew he’d skipped past some crazy, woo-woo shit like this on a cable channel before. He’d never believed it before, but maybe…

  It all felt too real for it not to be. Jackson was wrong. Sabine had to have been there. Maybe they had missed each other.

  But what if Sabine wasn’t home? Then what? Mathis didn’t even know where to begin if that was the case. He interrupted the driver’s stream of consciousness rambling and pointed him into Sabine’s neighborhood.

  “Go slow,” he said. “I want to make sure the streets are clear.”

  The driver complied, which allowed Mathis to survey the side streets for anything suspicious.

  “Turn left at the next street. It will be the house at the end, on the left.”

  From the end of the street, Mathis could see that the house was dark except for a faint glow from the kitchen window. He saw a shadow move inside. His heart leaped. She could be home! But then he noticed there were no cars in the driveway or on the street.

  “Kill the lights,” he said.

  The driver flipped the lights off. “Uhhhh, I’m down for some excitement, but don’t get me into any trouble.”

  Mathis ignored him, scrutinizing the window for any more movement inside.

  “Pull in the driveway and put the car in neutral, in case we need to take off quick.”

  “Yeah, I’m not too sure about this…”

  “I’ll pay you triple, and it’ll be all right.” Mathis kept his eyes scanning back and forth through the windows. Although he didn’t see any more shadows, he could have sworn he saw the dining room curtain move.

  “Alright, look,” he said to the driver, whose eyes were wide and bulging. “I’m gonna have a quick look-see. I promise I’ll give you a fat tip, just don’t freak out and leave me here. I’m a cop, and someone who lives here could be in danger. Okay?”

  The driver nodded.

  “You wouldn’t by any chance have a gun in here, would you?”

  “How much are we talking about?” he said, eyeing Mathis suspiciously.

  “Two hundred. And I won’t shoot it unless I have to. And I’ll give it right back.”

  The driver nodded, reaching down under his seat. Mathis heard a metal drawer open, and the driver pulled out a gun and a loaded magazine. He handed it back to Mathis. Mathis wasn’t surprised. This was Modesto.

  “I said excitement, no trouble,” the driver warned.

  “Then why are you trusting me?” Mathis asked.

  “Because a crazy person would have said they were CIA.”

  He had a point. Crazy people always thought they were with the CIA.

  Mathis slid the magazine into the gun and opened the car door. He probably should have asked the driver if he had shoes and a pair of pants.

  Mathis started toward the side of the porch, moving as tactically as possible, crouching below the sight line of the windows, disregarding the pain of the pebbles and thorns gouging into his tender feet, and ignoring the fact that the driver had an unobstructed view of his ass.

  With his back against the wall, he crept up the porch steps and peered through the window into the dining room. There was a faint glow of a nightlight in the kitchen that barely illuminated the dining room. Mathis could make out the table and the buffet against the far wall. He scanned underneath the dining room table but could only see the jumble of chair legs at the front. He pressed his face closer to the glass and looked toward the living room, but it was dark, and he couldn’t see past the curtains.

  Feeling sure there was no one in that room, he scrambled past the window to the front door. It was all or nothing. He was going to take the chance that Sabine was there.

  Mathis rang the doorbell.

  Diiinnng Dooong. In the dead still of the night, the bell might as well have been a fog horn. A dog down the block started barking. Mathis stood with his ear toward the door, listening for the vibration of movement in the house and feeling for the presence of life behind the walls.

  How many times in his career had he done this? Countless. Most of the time, no one was home, or someone immediately started moving in the house. The last occasion, there was a dead father and his blood-soaked son.

  He pressed the doorbell again.

  Diiinnng Dooong. Even louder in his ear because it was right by the door. Mathis leaned closer, reaching his instincts through the wood panel. There was no sound of movement, but all the hairs on Mathis’s arms stood on end. He caught his breath when he felt something press back. There was definitely a presence there–someone right behind the door.

  Mathis adjusted the handgun and positioned himself by the thicker door frame for protection, maintaining his ear to the door. The energetic presence tracked him. Mathis had never felt such a thing in his life. Well, until the game…and the hospital. He felt more sensitive now, more aware.

  Mathis pressed his own energy back. Agai
n, there was a pressure. Someone was definitely there. Friend or foe? Mathis wondered. He scanned the presence, trying to feel the quality of its energy. It didn’t feel threatening, but it felt familiar.

  “Sabine, is that you?” he whispered through the door.

  The energy suddenly pushed back, strong, right in his heart. It pierced through his flesh, filling his chest cavity. Mathis had a vision of white light and expected to feel excruciating pain. But pain didn’t come. In fact, the faint ache in his heart that was still lingering from his ordeal drained away completely.

  That felt familiar, too, and Mathis had a flash of memory. He was lying on his back, in the deserted streets of a destroyed city, a dark figure standing above him. It bent down next to him. A man; black hair and eyes of ice. He had sucked all the blue energy of Dookie’s bullets out of his heart and had sent him out of the game.

  They had called him Raziel.

  “Raziel, is that you?”

  Quiet, a voice hissed loudly. It was in his head. Mathis almost shit himself, again. He might not be CIA, but he really was fucking crazy.

  What the hell is going on? Mathis thought.

  You listen to me, Mathis. You are no good here. In fact, you could be in danger. Just go home. Get well. And forget about all this.

  Mathis stepped away from the door in complete shock that there was someone there talking to him. But if he was there, why didn’t he just open the door and speak to him like a real man? Mathis opened his mouth to call him out. “Hey Ra–”

  Another powerful surge of energy slammed into his chest, and he almost stumbled backward off the porch. Another force of energy gripped at his throat, pulling him upright while holding his tongue still.

  When I said shut up, you didn’t think I meant it?

  Mathis nodded his head. I get it. You meant it.

  He also got that he had completely lost his fucking mind. In the distance, Mathis heard the wailing of a train whistle heading their direction. Its plaintive cry reminded him of Sabine. She had to be in danger.

  She is, the voice said, reading his mind. But you aren’t capable of fixing that. Let me handle this, Mathis. Save yourself. Sabine is going to need someone to come home to.

  The train approached quickly, sending tremors through the floorboards of the porch. The grip loosened around the muscles of his throat and Mathis was able to catch a breath. The energy evaporated from his chest, leaving him standing on the precipice of the stairs on his own.

  The train bellowed, right on top of the house, piercing Mathis’s eardrums.

  GOOOOO!

  Mathis scrambled back, unable to determine if it was the train screaming at him or Raziel. He dashed toward the car and jumped into the back seat.

  The driver looked back at him, his face white and eyes wide. “What the fuck was that all about? Is this place haunted?”

  Mathis rubbed at his neck where the phantom hand had been. “You saw that?” His voice came out in a rasp.

  The driver nodded. “Well, it didn’t look like you were doing that to yourself.”

  Mathis was relieved. It meant he wasn’t crazy.

  It also meant someone was there.

  “Hold on a sec,” he said, jumping back out of the car. He ran toward the back of the house and into the back yard. The back door was standing wide open. The freight train was clamoring past on the other side of the fence. The back gate stood open as well.

  Mathis sent his feelers out that direction, trying to find Raziel’s energy again. But there was only static created by the train screeching its lament against the rails.

  He watched as it ran unstoppable into the night, wondering what was going to become of Sabine, Aislen, Raziel, and himself.

  Nothing was right in the world anymore.

  And it all had to do with that game.

  ∞

  Raze couldn’t believe what he saw. Sitting in the back seat of an Uber, was Sergeant Mathis. Not only was he alive, but he was also not in the hospital. When he finally stepped out of the car, Raze almost laughed out loud. He was in nothing but a hospital gown and carrying a loaded gun.

  Raze had to hand it to him: he had fortitude, as well as persistence and resourcefulness. Not bad for an old fart with a cop for brains.

  As Mathis passed in front of the window, Raze heard Aislen gasp under the table.

  Quiet! We don’t want him to hear us!

  She nodded to him.

  Be ready to run when I say.

  He slipped around the corner and pressed his body up against the door just as the doorbell rang. He checked the lock. It was engaged, but he pressed his body and applied an energetic force to the door just in case the old man thought he could kick the door in.

  Raziel could feel Mathis move closer to the door. He could also feel him extend some feelers into the house. A cop’s instincts. Mathis had a well-developed spidey-sense.

  The doorbell blasted again, and Mathis pressed his energy further through the wood door. Raze felt it touch his skin. Raze pushed Mathis’s energy back out the door. Wrong thing to do. Mathis felt it and adjusted his position.

  He has more than just hunches now, Raze thought to himself. Mathis pushed back, not taking the subtle hint. Raze felt him scanning his field, more curious than threatening.

  “Sabine, is that you?” Mathis whispered through the door.

  Aislen gasped again, at hearing her mother’s name. Raze shot an energy at her to shut her up. He also threw a jolt at Mathis to shut him up as well; a burning white light that would help Mathis remember what had sent him to the hospital. Maybe he would get the message this time and leave.

  “Raziel, is that you?” Mathis whispered through the door.

  Raze was flabbergasted. He remembered him? There was another sharp intake of breath from Aislen.

  Quiet! Raze hissed loudly at her.

  Raze felt Mathis’s energy snap to attention, and he retreated a bit.

  What the hell is going on? Raze heard Mathis thinking. Had he heard him? What? Does everyone in this town have mad skills?

  Raze decided to test him. You listen to me, Mathis. You are no good here. In fact, you could be in danger. Just go home. Get well. And forget about all this.

  Raze felt Mathis back further away from the door. He had heard him! Another telepath was born. Good! Now maybe he’d fuck off.

  “Hey!” Mathis shouted. “Ra–”

  Raze didn’t give him a chance to finish. He slammed another powerful jolt of energy into his chest, pushing him back several feet, then grabbed him by the throat with a cord of energy to hold his tongue. He had saved this guy once. He didn’t want to kill him now.

  Raze! Don’t kill him! Aislen screamed at him. Raze shot a lethal look at her; it was the last thing he wanted to do. And still, it was the first thing she thought he would do.

  He turned his focus back on Mathis.

  When I said shut up, you didn’t think I meant it? Raze roared at both Mathis and Aislen.

  Aislen cowered behind the chair. Raze felt Mathis cower under his hold.

  I get it. You meant it, Mathis telepathed.

  Raze heard the horn of an approaching train coming from the south. It could provide cover when they ran.

  Sabine. She must be in danger. Raze heard and felt Mathis’s thoughts.

  She is, he said back. But you aren’t capable of fixing that. Let me handle this, Mathis. Save yourself. She is going to need someone to come home to.

  Raze hoped the promise of seeing Sabine again would get Mathis to acquiesce. The train was approaching quickly. They needed to move. Raze let up on Mathis and moved quickly toward Aislen, grabbing her hand and pulling her off the floor.

  The train laid on the horn full blast, blaring through the house.

  GOOOO! He screamed at Aislen as he pushed her toward the back door.

  They sprinted out and across the yard, through the gate, and into the orchard.

  The train kept pace with them. Change frequencies! he shouted at Aislen as he s
hifted his. They ran the last half mile through the orchard back to the car.

  They jumped in and Raze took off, heading in the opposite direction of the house as fast as the Prius would take them.

  “We need a safe place, Aislen,” he said after they were about twenty minutes down the road and he was sure no one was following them. “We need to rest before we head to the airport. It may be our only time to get some sleep. Can you think of a place?”

  Aislen contemplated his question for a long while, brushing her fingers across the two letters in her lap. When she finally looked up at him, she said, “Yes. I know a place.”

  Thirty-Seven

  They drove in silence, a few more back roads than necessary to scramble their trail. The tension between them was palpable. Aislen could see the storm churning inside Raziel, a tumultuous mix of anger, fear and something else she couldn’t place. She couldn’t tell which emotion was dominating. All she knew was that it was because of her.

  Was it because she couldn’t stay quiet even when he asked her to? Because he was sick of having to help her all the time when she kept messing up? Because Sergeant Mathis was alive when Raze had thought he was dead?

  Aislen didn’t want to admit it, but she knew it was none of those things. It was because of her, yes, but it was because she had assumed he was going to kill Mathis on the porch. Again she had thought the worst of him, and the look on his face when she’d screamed at him had said it all.

  She realized then what the other emotion was. The shock of it sank in. Raziel, the man who had been so invincible before, was hurt.

  Aislen felt horrible. She wished he would let his guard down so she could apologize. She sent a telepathic feeler out to try to communicate, but his mind was a steel trap, locking her out.

  Aislen looked down at the notes from her mother and father in her lap. She hadn’t opened the letter from her father yet. She wasn’t ready. She still hadn’t gotten over her mother’s words, and thinking of them only brought fresh pain and irrepressible fear. Her father’s letter was sure to bring her more grief. She caressed them with her fingertips, searching for an iota of comfort through the thoughts they had written on the paper. But they felt like pulverized wood pulp, no life in them at all. She slid them into her sweatshirt pocket as they turned into the lotus garden parking lot.