by Jill Cooper
Anything wrong in the future. His words horrify me and I turn ghostly pale. As the color drains out of my face and I’m pretty sure I’m going to faint. Jeffrey grabs my hand. He turns it over and wipes his hand across my fingers. My palm.
With a jerk, I pull it away and slide it under the table. I don’t know what this guy is up to, but I sure as hell don’t want him stroking me—any part of me. “I’m seeing someone.”
My glower softens as his mouth falls open slightly. “You’re not chipped. How are you not chipped?”
Shrugging is my only cover that I have no idea what he’s talking about, but the way his mouth falls even further, I know he’s not fooled. “The chip. For making electronic payments? Tagging you in the system’s database? Everyone is chipped at birth. Where’s your chip?”
My eyes fall to the table and I refuse to answer. It’s my only move because anything else would be the truth.
“If you had it removed illegally, there’d be a scar.” Jeff pushes me harder and I dig in my heels. I bite my tongue and clench my jaw hard. “You’re really not going to tell me anything?”
Shaking my head, my curls swish.
“There must be someone you want to see. Talk to. If you answer some questions--.”
I raise my head and greet his level stare with my own. “There’s no one.” At least that is the truth.
Sadness clouds his eyes. “You an orphan?”
“More or less.” I lean back in my chair and cross my arms. “Can you have someone take me to my cell?”
Jeff’s eyes narrow. “No. We’re not done here.”
I’m pretty sure we are as I turn my head and refuse to look at him. It makes Jeff indignant and he leans across the table. “You have to talk to me. Tell me who you are. Why you have that port on the back of your head.”
His face is flushed with anger and I give a playful shrug and lean toward him. Now our noses are almost touching. “Why do you think I have a port in the back of my head, Jeffrey?” I egg him on with a smirk.
If he wants to play, let’s play.
His eyebrows furrow and his lips pinch together. His cheeks redden further, to a deep apple color. “Only TTD agents have one, but you’re young. Barely recruitment age. So the question begs; were you recruited? Did you run away from the program?”
“If any of that was true, there’d be a record of me, wouldn’t there?”
Jeffrey nods. “That’s the puzzling part. So if Rewind didn’t put it there, who did? Has the resistance given into time travel to…change the past? Found a way to remove your chip without leaving a scar?”
“That’s the million-dollar question, isn’t it?” I lean forward and stare at him. “And that terrifies you. Terrifies all of Rewind and whoever is in charge.”
“I want to help you…”
My eyes narrow. “Liar.”
His face reddens even more and he stutters. It’s clear he’s flustered, frustrated and I’m glad. I want to watch him squirm. A knock at the door interrupts our powwow session. Jeffrey glances at it over his shoulder. “That’s Daniels. If you want my help, you need to explain yourself fast.”
“Daniels?” The name rolls off my tongue like a phantom. All of my grandstanding dissolves with the knowledge that Daniels did all this. He’s still holding the reigns.
The door opens and Jeffrey stands to attention as a little old man hobbles into the room. There’s a cane in one hand and he’s hunched over. His skin is wrinkled, but still, intelligence glints in his eyes.
“I’ve been waiting for this day.” His voice is full of glee and it makes me sick. “Ever since you disappeared I’ve been waiting and waiting for this day.”
I stand as he approaches. He’s so old. So brittle. How far in the future did I go?
“You know who she is?” Jeffrey asks shock on his face. “Sir, you didn’t--.”
“As soon as news came over the wire, I knew. But then to see her on the news, to see that face.” He lifts a shaking finger toward me and I resist the temptation to bite it off. “You haven’t aged a day, Lara. Not a day.”
Jeffrey’s eyes widen. “Lara? The name from Reynold’s computer? This is…this is her?”
Xavier ignores him and practically foams at the mouth as he studies me. “The world’s missed you, Lara Montgomery.”
“It’s Crane.” I spit out at him and his shriveled disgusting little face. “And I’m looking forward to wiping the floor with you.”
Xavier laughs into his fist. “Ever the spitfire. She never changes. Get Mahoney in here. Lara is being transferred to Rewind Headquarters. I want to keep an eye on her myself.”
“Sir, I don’t think that’s a good--.”
“Now, Jeffrey,” Xavier says in a low voice. Almost as if, he has affection for this snake in a suit.
His lawyer can’t do anything but comply. In his eyes, I see hesitation, fear, and I wonder if maybe he was on my side. Would he have been, if Xavier weren’t here? I wish I could ask him, but I’m helpless as Mahoney comes and takes me. He handcuffs my hands behind my back again and pushes me out into the hall.
“Just keep walking and nothing bad will happen to you.” He says softly in my ear.
At least until I get to Rewind. That realization tastes sour in my mouth. No matter what I do, where or when I go, I can’t escape my destiny. Maybe it’s time I embrace it. Stop running. And collapse Rewind from the inside out right on top of me.
Without me, there is no mess. Without me, none of this happens.
I never thought I’d be a martyr, but now I feel like there’s little choice. No hope for survival. And I have no way of getting back. My heart is heavy and bitter. Everything that Donovan said about clawing and surviving to be together, it’ll never happen. The only way out for any of us is death.
When we get outside, I see a woman with red curls. She flashes Mahoney orders. “I’m transporting this one to Rewind.”
Mahoney studies his bracelet hologram thing with a huff. “Everything seems in order, Winters. But I should really signal Daniels…”
“We can’t leave her out here any longer than necessary. Just give me the car keys and let Daniels know, soon he’ll get everything he wants.”
Mahoney shrugs and shoves me into the back of the car. The police aren’t exactly gentle in the future. I hunch forward in my seat because my handcuffs are killing me. Winters gets in and we speed off north, away from where Rewind used to be.
Her eyes study me in the rearview. “We’ll get those cuffs off as soon as we get where we’re going.”
I don’t say anything as I study the floor.
“I’m going to get you out of this.”
That catches my attention and I sit up to look at her. “Why?”
“I need your help, Lara.” Her voice is soft but determined. Reminds me of someone I used to be.
Someone I have to be, no matter the price. The personal cost. My lips push together and I nod. “Is there somewhere we can go to talk?”
****
Turns out, there aren’t many places available to talk.
But there are few safe zones. One of those places is under the old Charles River Bridge. Some homeless people let us use their space. I put my hoodie up around my hair just in case anyone recognizes me or a patrol comes by and Winters tells me everything.
Reynold Jackson was framed for murder and promptly executed. I can’t believe this is the future. This is the future I set in motion. Guilt, I’ve felt it before but never of this magnitude. Never quite felt anything comparable to what I’m feeling right now.
And people have been looking for me. Resistance fighters, the opposition, whatever you want to call them. The internet has been scrubbed of my name, but somehow they still know about me. How to find me. Somehow, Cassidy Winters knew enough to look for me.
“How’d you hear about me?”
“At first just on Reynold’s computer. But then my grandmother told me about you.” She reaches into her pocket and pulls something out. H
olding onto a chain with her fingers a locket spins out and sways side to side.
I snatch it from her and hold the locket in my hand, like an old lost friend. “Molly?” Tears fill my eyes. Molly is a grandmother? Cassidy’s grandmother? That would make us…
“How long?” The question is hard for me to ask so the sound comes out a warbling symphony of grief. “How long?”
“Seventy-five years. You went missing and everything fell into place then for Daniels. Rewind.”
“How?” The question begs to be answered, but I don’t think Cassidy can answer them.
“I know the history that’s taught in school, but if it’s the truth, that’s hard to say. It’ll be colored one way, written by Daniels and his people.” Cassidy brings something up on what she calls the comm and she stands with me so I can read the information displayed on her wrist.
Xavier Daniels, thanks to experiments by the U.S. Government, invented time travel and the ability to harness the power of the future to create a utopian society where no crime goes undetected. But even that’s a lie. Xavier didn’t invent anything. Patricia James with the help of my mother did that.
Seems I wasn’t the only one scrubbed from existence.
I want to look up my family. Mom, Dad. Don. But I know to do that would just be heartbreaking, so instead, I bite my lip to keep my emotions at bay and keep reading.
The U.S. Government kept the tech to themselves and wars broke out, but with the help of Rewind, the U.S. conquered and toppled the other governments. Other countries wanted to use time travel to cut crime and terrorism, so sovereign nations were folded into the United States out of fear. It paved the way so Daniels could form what’s become known as Global Law.
Some senators and governors resisted, for a time, but when the last remaining critic, Marcus O’Reily committed suicide, no one else stood in Daniels way. The constitution was replaced. Citizens were redefined as suspects and Rewind’s reach grew. The article went on to explain how stable the country is now. No one will speak against Global Law. Although it has a small number of detractors, they have rarely been seen in public nor have they allowed their identities to be revealed.
Marcus.
I squeeze my eyes shut because the hurt just keeps on coming. Everyone I care about. Everyone I loved…
There has to be a way to go back and stop it.
But how can I stop Daniels and what he’s created? If I go back too far, I undo Patricia James being arrested and if I don’t go back far enough, all of this will be put in motion.
“How does he do it? How does the system know what happens in the future?” My voice resonates stronger than I feel.
“Everything is recorded, scanned, and monitored. They call it the time travel corridor, but I’ve never seen it. The area’s restricted. It’s synched in with the time fluxes of the future and the system catalogs who and what they did. That’s when they’re arrested.”
“And executed.” I rub my chin, gazing at the river. It looks so much like my Charles River; the only thing that is familiar. Knowing where you are, but recognizing virtually nothing, is a scary place to be. “Do any of the officers ever go back in time to catch someone?”
“Only an elite group and it has to be approved first. Time travel like that causes this thing called time travel sickness--.”
That at least sounds familiar and it reminds me of a simpler time, crazy as that is. “I know. I’ve had it.”
“You’ve gone in the past?” Cassidy’s jaw falls open.
“More than once.”
“Then how…how can you even be standing here?” Her eyes widen, as if I’m a freak, an impressive one, but still a freak. There’s a little bit of astonishment in her eye.
“I’m special.” The words come out dry. Boy, do I wish I wasn’t. “When did Daniels invent this time corridor?”
“Seventy years ago, give or take. His journals were stolen and he had to recreate a lot of his work from scratch.”
The journals. “Were they ever found?”
Cassidy shakes her head. “People have been looking for decades. But they’re lost.”
Finally, I feel like I’ve received a gift. “I had them. I hid them. With luck, maybe they’re still there. We can piece together how he created this and maybe a way to undo it all.”
“Where?” Cassidy asks as we start back toward the police car.
“224 Commonwealth Avenue.”
Cassidy stops in her tracks and goes white as a sheet. “Well, I guess now I know why Reynold Jackson wanted to move into the slums. He moved into your old house. He was trying to find your journals.”
We have to hope he didn’t.
****
Cassidy tries to prepare me, but there’s no way for me to steel myself.
Commonwealth Avenue and my beautiful home are in shambles. Ruins.
Lush gardens have been replaced with brown, dying grass. Flowers are nonexistent and the brownstones that have lasted hundreds of years are decaying. Spray paint defaces their beauty and my hope wilts like the tulip growing beside the steps of my home.
Cassidy leads and I follow her up the stairs. She rings the bell and when no one answers, anxiety grows in the pit of my stomach. Cassidy sighs and bangs her fist only harder. “Katie, open the door if you’re able to!”
“Maybe she’s not home.”
Cassidy isn’t convinced. “She knew I was coming today. She’s…sick. She’d be here.” Cassidy takes a step back and kicks the door open. We head inside and Cassidy tightly holds the black stick she had holstered on her belt..
I step inside; what should have been the foyer of my townhouse is now a rundown musty hallway. She leads me into a minuscule apartment, in what had been Mom’s kitchen. Just yesterday, Dad had been there prepping dinner for the twins and now Molly is an old grandma. And my life? I don’t even want to think about it.
On the floor in the cramped kitchen area, is the small, fragile body of who I guess is Katie. Her head is turned to the side, so thin that you can see her tendons beneath the skin. Her eyes are glassy as they stare off toward the screaming tea kettle that is at a roaring boil.
I turn the burner off and remove the kettle, burning my hand while doing so. I grab a towel off the counter. Beside me, Cassidy is on bended knee beside the body. She shakes her head. “No,” She whispers, her two fingers pressed up against Katie’s neck.
“You said she was sick…” But even my own voice doesn’t sound so sure.
Cassidy points to her black sunken eyes and the round bruise on Katie’s chest. Circular and red, it’s like a burn, with veins extending outward in all directions. “That’s caused by an electrical staff held too long. Just like mine.” Her fingers grip her black stick so tight it begins to charge and gives off the smell of an electrical current.
“You think Rewind? These Global Law people killed her?”
She stands beside me and wipes her hands on her pants as if she’s dirty. Soiled. But maybe she is. Maybe we all are.
“I think they killed her. They knew I’d come here and now they’re going to set me up. They know I have you.”
“Then we better move fast.” I push my lips together and study Cassidy’s sad features. “The journals are in my old room. Upstairs.”
She takes a deep breath and nods; she’s back. She’s pushed Katie’s death to the side. Maybe they were close or she just felt bad for Katie. In either case, I want to give her time to grief, but I can’t. I know how it goes.
We need to move. Push on. Forget for now those we’ve left behind.
Back in the hall, I find the stairs right where I left them, but the carpet is dingy and in need of a wash. All of this overwhelms me and my brain hurts as I climb the stairs.
Cassidy isn’t far behind me.
The upper hallway should be where the bedrooms and bathrooms are, but instead, they are just a series of dingy doors. I go to the mine and put my hand on it. “This is it.”
Cassidy nods and knocks the side of he
r fist on the door. “Global Law! Please open the door and step away!”
The door unlocks and Cassidy pushes it open. She goes in first, holding the black stick in her hand and I take in the sight of my old bedroom. It has a pull out sofa, and a small kitchenette that isn’t even big enough for a full sized fridge; my heart is crushed. The sight of the people, a family of three, against the wall near my old window, further dampens my spirits. The little girl’s hair is done up in braids, one higher than the other. Her face is dirty.
And worst of all, she looks terrified.
The mother hugs her kids close and I try not to look at them. Everyone is scared. Everyone is terrified that they might break the law, someday in the future. That they’ll pay for it now. It’s no way to live. No way to be.
I go to the small television and wheel it away. I see it.
The patch job I did.
I don’t know how it’s survived so long, but Cassidy hands me a knife from the kitchen cart and I saw into the drywall. Reaching in, the scraps of drywall scratching me, my fingers wrap around the dusty books and I pull them out. Flipping through the leather binders I see the pages have aged and browned.
It’s all mystifying.
“Let’s move, Lara.” Cassidy nudges me.
“Wait.” I reach inside a moment and pull out the gun. The time assassin’s revolver. Looks as if it’ll still work. I stick it into the back of my jeans.
“Guns are outlawed. No one’s allowed to have one anymore.” Cassidy’s lips are pressed together hard and it’s clear she doesn’t view herself as above the law. Commendable, but not something we have time for.
“It’ll still work, won’t it? Besides, I got it from the time travel assassin. I’m assuming Daniels sent him after me.”
“The who?” Cassidy scowls and it’s clear she has no idea there are even time travel assassins. I guess Daniels has more secrets than even we know.
“You have evidence that Daniels has an assassin?” Cassidy asks the question as if I have a buried treasure map. She wants to put him away, prove he’s guilty.
I just wish I could provide that. “Only that he tried to kill me, more than once.”