by Linda Mooney
“And pick up some ice along the way?”
“Good idea. The chest plugs into an outlet to keep everything cold. But if the Tlok take out the electrical grid and all, whatever weapon they use could also disrupt anything electrical.” Mykail gave her a questioning look. “Are the cars able to run after the initial strike?”
“Yes, but not the self-driver. You have to manage the vehicle yourself.”
“But the cars still ran?”
“Yeah, until they run out of electricity or gas. The pumps at the service station no longer worked, so some people tried to siphon gas, but that didn’t work most of the time, either. By the end of the week, we were all on foot.” She was able to grin. “Except for the few geniuses who got around on bikes and skateboards.”
“Did you ever use a bike?”
“Yeah, until it got stolen from me.” She lowered her face as the memory of that attack came back to her.
Mykail leaned over to kiss her. It started out sweet, with a faint taste of salt from his tears, but quickly escalated, growing more sensuous and passionate. His free hand went behind her head as he moved closer to her. She was all for making love again, but he abruptly stopped and pulled away. Another soft kiss, and he took a deep breath. “We’ll have plenty of time for this later. Right now, we need to get to safety. Come on. You get dressed while I start breakfast.”
“Would it be possible to stop on our way to the marina to buy a couple of bikes, and keep them stored on the sailboat?” she wondered.
“There’s not enough room on deck or below deck.”
“Okay. It was just an idea.”
She walked over to the trunk, lifting the lid. “Do you have a big enough suitcase for all your clothes?”
“There’s two suitcases under the bed. Everything should fit in them. Oh, and don’t forget the stuff that’s in the washer-dryer.”
“Where’s that?”
“Upstairs. Right off the kitchen.”
“Okay. I’ll go get them.”
She hurried to fetch the clean clothing. Finding the small alcove, she first double-checked to make sure the appliance switched over and dried the items after washing them. It had, and she took the armload back to the basement apartment where Mykail already had bacon frying.
“Geez, that smells so good. It’s been ages since I’ve had bacon.” She dumped the clean clothes on the bed.
He turned around to see her sorting through them, pulling out the jeans and t-shirt she’d worn yesterday. She noticed him watching her.
“What? They’re clean. Why take something out of the trunk, when those things are already folded and ready to pack?”
He laughed. “I didn’t say anything. I do the same thing, wear something right from the laundry. Means I have less to fold.”
“I’m going to change in the bathroom,” she announced. “Do you need to use it first?”
“Nope. Already did my business while you were upstairs.”
Smiling, she went inside the bathroom, closing the door behind her. Once she relieved herself, she washed her face and dressed, availing herself of his deodorant.
“Oh, damn, we need to get me a toothbrush. Hey, Mykail?” She gathered up the items inside the medicine cabinet and, along with the clothes she’d worn last night, went to take them to the bed so they could be packed. “Mykail, we need to get me a tooth—”
She opened the bathroom door and stopped, her heart and mind not believing what she was seeing. She was barely aware of dropping everything as tears began to fill her eyes as the truth of what she was seeing stabbed her with hot knives. She gasped in mental pain as sobs threatened to overcome her, and a single word tore from her throat.
“Nooo!”
The apartment was empty and dim, the air stuffy from being closed in.
The windows were covered again with pages from the magazine.
She was back in the future. Back to her present, six years forward in time.
And Mykail was not here.
Chapter Thirteen
Letter
Emlee fought the dark haze that threatened to overwhelm her as she dropped to the floor. How? How could this happen again? Why am I back here? Why?
“Why?” she cried out to the deserted room.
She wanted to crawl into a ball and pour out her misery. She wanted to cry and pound the ground in anger and frustration, but another part of her told her she needed to get to the bottom of this mystery. There had to be a reason why she’d returned. There had to be some sort of catalyst, or an invisible button she’d pressed that had caused her to slip back through time and return to this present.
Collecting herself, she got to her feet. The items she’d taken from the bathroom lay scattered on the floor. She picked them up and went over to set them on the cabinet next to the stove.
“Okay, girl. Think. Look. Did anything change when you went back? Did you or Mykail do anything different between the time you were there, and now?”
Well, yeah. They’d done a hell of a lot of things different than what had originally occurred back then. The biggest of them being she’d probably saved his life.
She gazed about the room, remembering what he’d told her. About how he might have spent that weekend. He had gotten groceries as usual, then left the house. When the emergency had gone out, he’d either been oblivious to it and didn’t hear it, or he’d shrugged it off and went about his daily business.
“But the one thing he’d wouldn’t’ve had to worry about was being injured,” she remarked, glancing down at the items on the counter. Noticeably absent was the bottle of prescription medicine, but she’d seen Mykail put the bottle on the nightstand beside the bed. Of course, it wasn’t there now. Either he had it with him, or he’d never had it.
“So which is true? Is this time in the future before I left the first time? Or is it the result of when I went back?”
Trying to reconcile the two time periods made her head swim. Taking a deep breath to calm herself, she walked around the apartment, taking mental notes.
The pages she’d ripped from the magazine and taped to the windows were back. That meant her return to her own time came after she’d already arrived.
Her backpack was where she’d left it at the foot of the stairs. Relieved, she checked its contents, finding everything there, including the thumb drive she’d saved that contained precious photos. Although she couldn’t view them without the use of a computer, she hoped someday to find a way to be able to see them again. But if not, at least she had them with her. She had that much, and that knowledge gave her consolation.
She also had her baseball bat, but not the poker. “It would still be upstairs, underneath the roof,” she recalled.
Returning to the kitchen, the next thing she noticed was the missing cases of water. Alarmed, she threw open the door to the pantry.
The cans and packages of food were gone. All of it was gone, except for a single bottle of water, a can of ravioli…
And an envelope with her name on it, propped against the bottle.
Grabbing the envelope, she flipped it over to find it hadn’t been sealed. Pulling out the sheets of what appeared to be printer paper, she read over the handwritten missive.
Emlee,
When you didn’t come out of the bathroom, I went inside to ask you how you liked your eggs, but you were gone. I know you didn’t sneak out, and I know you couldn’t have left through a window. Which meant you had to have disappeared back to your time.
I don’t know why you went back, but I can only assume it wasn’t something you wanted or planned. At least, I hope it wasn’t what you wanted. Which means that bitch called Fate was the one responsible for taking you away.
I waited all day for you to reappear. I watched TV and the news, and got to see the Tlok creature you told me about. That’s when I knew I couldn’t wait any longer. It nearly killed me to have to leave the house, and maybe leave you behind if you returned, but I feel it’s my only chance to survive this tim
e around.
I’ve packed the food and water, and all my clothes, and I’m heading for the marina. I want to get as far away from land as possible before the shit hits the fan. If you do come back, and you read this letter, know that I’m going to stay close enough to shore to watch the docks. Come to Pier C, Slip 12. It’s a single mast sailboat named the “Mysty-fi.” I’ll pick you up there. You survived the first time around. I have every belief you’ll survive this second time.
I’m praying you’ll come back to my time. Back to me. But if something prevents you from returning, I’ll wait for you. Just don’t forget me.
With love,
Mykail
She read through the letter again, hearing his voice in place of the words he’d written. Leaning against the cabinet, she clutched the paper to herself and stared sightlessly into the room.
Come to Pier C.
I’m heading for the marina.
“He packed everything to take on the sailboat.”
Even though she knew he said he’d left with the food, water, and clothes, she hurried over to the bed anyway to check. The suitcases were missing. The trunk was also completely bare.
She sat back on her heels and surveyed the room with a keener eye. “What brought me back? For that matter, what took me in the first place? Are the two incidences connected? And, if so, how? What if whatever threw me into the past was the same circumstance that returned me? Stop and figure it out, girl. You’re smart. You can do it.
“Okay. Let’s look at what’s different. The food and water that was here is missing. The clothes in the trunk are missing. But the toiletries…”
A faint understanding dawned on her. Getting to her feet, she ran over to the cabinet where she’d put the things she’d taken from the bathroom. She mentally ticked off the items as she named them. “Toothbrush, toothpaste, ibuprofen, shaver, deodorant.” She frowned. “They’re all here. Nothing’s changed except…who leaves behind their toiletries? Why didn’t you pack your toothbrush and stuff, Mykail?”
Chewing on her lips, she walked into the bathroom where the bowl of used water still sat in the sink, waiting for her to dump its contents into the toilet to flush it. The washcloth and towel she’d used were where she’d left them draped over the side of the tub. And her worn, torn top and pants she’d hoped to wash lay in a heap against the wall where she’d dropped them. The only things new were the t-shirt and gym shorts she’d briefly worn last night.
She shook her head. “Nothing’s different or changed in here but that extra change of clothes.” She glanced behind her, out the door, to where she could see the end of the bed on the other side of the basement. “I wore that outfit into the bathroom and put on these clothes, and when I went back into the kitchen…”
She picked up the discarded items and returned to the main room. “After I took that spit bath, I changed into these clothes I found in the trunk.”
The initial spark of an idea grew brighter, and she turned around.
“I put these clothes on… Wait a minute. Could it be that simple? Could these clothes be the reason I went back in time?” It sounded absurd, and yet… “Come on, girl. There’s no way changing my clothes…” She stopped arguing with herself and took a deep breath. “If putting on the clothes from the trunk is what triggered me going back in time, how come putting on the same t-shirt and jeans brought me back? It doesn’t make sense! These came from the trunk, too!”
Ah, but you’d washed them before putting them back on, a tiny voice reminded her.
Emlee held up the t-shirt and gym shorts. They hadn’t been washed. Like the clothes she had on now, she’d taken them directly out of the trunk and put them on.
But they haven’t been washed since you’ve worn them.
“Could that be the answer? As long as I’m wearing clothes directly from the trunk, I’ll be transported back in time? But if I wash them and put them back on, the magic disappears?”
There was only one way to figure out if her theory was correct.
She looked around at the abandoned basement apartment. Suddenly, the thought of being whisked back in time and watching the transformation unfold in front of her terrified her.
She retrieved the flash drive from her backpack. She didn’t know if the entire backpack could go with her, or if it might prevent her from leaving this time period, but she couldn’t take off again without the drive.
Taking the clothes she’d worn the night before, she went into the bathroom, closed the door, and changed into them in the dark, slipping the drive into her shorts pocket. Then, saying a quick prayer, she turned the knob.
Chapter Fourteen
Paradigm
Her gaze went immediately to the windows. Seeing the bright sunlight, and the lack of magazine pages not taped over them, Emlee knew she was back in the past. Just how far back, and when in time she’d arrived, remained a temporary mystery.
Hurrying over to the kitchen, she saw the cases of water were gone. She threw open the pantry to find the lone bottle of water and can of ravioli, as well as the envelope with his letter to her.
She stared at it, stunned. Mykail had already left. She hadn’t reappeared before they’d met, as she’d halfway hoped. They’d already had their day and night together, and he’d departed after she’d disappeared.
“How long ago did he leave? He said he waited all day for me to come back. What time is it? What day is it now?”
She thought back on what she’d told him. She remembered when the initial scout ships came, one was blown out of the sky, and that’s how the world came to see their first Tlok. That was Saturday night.
“The motherships arrived Sunday, and that’s when they started firing at us.”
She glanced outside, at where the sunlight was shining brightly. It couldn’t be Saturday, or else Mykail would be here. Which meant it either had to be Sunday, or sometime after the attacks.
How much grace time did we have before the aliens attacked us? Was it late morning or early afternoon? It was difficult to remember, but she thought it was late morning. She’d been sleeping in and had been awakened by the sound of loud explosions.
Emlee stopped to listen. So far she couldn’t hear any explosions. Nor could she hear the sound of sirens, or people screaming, or gunshots. It was a quiet and peaceful Sunday morning.
So far.
“I need to get out of here now before it all comes down. My boots. Where are my boots?”
She knew she’d left them by the bed. Relief washed through her when she spotted them sitting where she’d left them. Mykail must have realized she might need them if and when she returned. Ignoring the fact that it was necessary to wear socks with them, she quickly slid them on and tightened the straps. She’d worry about socks later. Hopefully, she wouldn’t suffer too many blisters in the meantime. It was imperative she get to the marina, and as quickly as possible. With any luck, she’d arrive at Pier C to find Mykail there, either waiting for her or not yet departed. Hopefully both.
“I need to arm myself.” Hell may not have erupted yet, but it wouldn’t be long before it did. Once the aliens started firing on them, people would become hysterical. Their sense of self-preservation would kick in to the point where they’d attack anyone whom they deemed dangerous. They would try to flee, stealing anything that ran if they didn’t have their own vehicle. They would kill without hesitation. Common sense would be the first thing tossed out the window. But the few who managed to retain their cool, who observed and acted when the right moment presented itself, those people would become the last survivors. They would win the ultimate lottery, and be the ones who’d live to see the result of their world turned upside-down.
She knew because she’d been one of those sober-minded people.
“Boots, check. Now I need a weapon. Poker, poker. Where’d I leave the poker? Oh, yeah. Upstairs. I threw it away before the police came.” It wouldn’t be too difficult to find. She vaguely recalled where she’d been when she’d tossed it aw
ay. “I’ll take that with me.”
She checked the room a final time before heading up the stairs. “Is there anything else I need to take with me? Am I forgetting anything?” She patted her pocket to reassure herself that the thumb drive was there.
Her eyes lit on the pantry, its doors left wide open. The bottle of water and can of ravioli called to her, letting her know she hadn’t eaten anything since the night before. Past experience had taught her she needed to eat every chance she got. To never let an opportunity to fill her belly go by, because it could be days before her next meal. Same for safe-to-drink water.
As loud as her internal alarms were sounding, urging her to get out of there, she reined them in. “No eat, no energy. Simple as that,” she commented, going over and reaching for the can.
This time the tab opened as it was designed to do. Within seconds, Emlee felt the container’s sides grow warm to the touch as the internal heating elements did their job. Taking a fork from the utensil drawer, she ate.
She leaned against the stove as she forced herself to chew her food, rather than bolt it down. The continued silence around her became unnerving, and curiosity made her wonder about the latest news. “At least it’ll let me know what time of day it is. Television, on!”
The screen brightened, and the first thing she saw was the definitive shape of a mothership. Shoveling another ravioli into her mouth, she listened attentively to the newsman. She’d never heard this part of history, as she hadn’t been watching the TV or listening to any broadcasts when it all came down the first time.
“—these obviously bigger and more powerful spaceships,” the man announced. The guy’s face was noticeably several shades paler, and it was clear he was fighting to keep his voice from shaking. “Repeated attempts by our military to establish communications with the aliens have gone unanswered. President Cho of China, Prime Minister Sisslebean of the UK, and President Chyevsky of Russia all confirm that their countries are seeing many of these same space crafts, mostly the smaller and faster versions, hovering over their major cities. Luckily, however, there have been no overt hostile moves made by these creatures, which President McInerny says is surprising, considering the fact that one of those smaller ships was shot down late yesterday afternoon.”