BackTrek (22 page)

No. The photos must have begun as part of the
verification process, but try as he might, he could not pinpoint
when they began. He watched out of the window as the city roared
past. The cab driver had twice spoken to him, yet he sat there in
silence. He had no use for conversation with this piece of Arab
shit, and refused to acknowledge his existence. If he continued to
interrupt his thoughts, he may just end his miserable life tonight.
The taxi turned onto the expressway, and as the car picked up
speed, the cabby was silent. Smith’s thoughts turned back to the
concept of divine intervention. Could it be, he asked himself.
Could it be that he was a pawn in the whole vast scheme of things?
If so, that would mean that all of his actions his whole life might
have been at the beck and call of some supreme being, or beings,
and that they directed his actions.

“Bullshit.” He said under his breath. There
had not been any supreme being there to keep his father from raping
him instead of his whore of a sister. If she had just spread her
diseased legs for the son-of-a-bitch, he would have been left
alone. Or that bitch whore of a mother who knew all about it and
didn’t say a fucking word. He wished he could kill her again, the
fucking bitch whore. The image of his knife as it slashed her
throat passed through his mind. His smile had faded. His pride of
the recent jobs well done had evaporated. The elation of the
slashed throat of the whore in the alley was gone. The excitement
of the new assignment was gone. The taxi began to slow as it exited
the expressway, and he turned to look at the driver. Maybe he would
kill this fucking sand rat bastard. Maybe he would cut his head
off, like the video he had seen on the internet. He could imagine
the turbaned man as his screams became guttural and wet, as his
throat filled with blood. He could imagine how his knife would feel
as he sliced in between the vertebrae as he severed the fucker’s
head. His smile returned.

The car stopped at the stop light, and Smith
reached into his pocket for his knife. The driver stared ahead, and
did not even glance into the rearview mirror. Evidently he had
decided that conversation was useless. Smith’s hand curled around
the switchblade, and it felt good. It made him feel strong. It’s
cool steel, and pearl embossed handle felt at home in his gloved
hand. He eased it from his pocket, just as the light changed. The
taxi driver accelerated through the light, oblivious to the danger
that sat in the rear of his cab. Smith thumbed the catch on the
handle, and the blade snicked out to its full ten inch length. The
street lights pulsed off its shiny blade as the car sped on. He
leaned forward slightly, and suddenly the car began to slow.

“We’re here.” The driver said, as he pulled
into the parking lot of Pappa Louigi’s. The taxi came to a stop and
the driver glanced at the meter. “Twenty-five fifty.” Smith placed
his left hand on the back of the driver’s seat and pulled himself
forward. In a flash, he reached forward with his right hand. The
driver was startled by the quickness of the move, and jumped back
towards his door. Then a smile spread across his face, as he
reached out and took the two twenties from Smith. Smith told him to
keep the change. No time for this, he thought as he exited the
taxi. He had an assignment to complete.

The soldier sat in the chair with his feet
propped up on the desk. He chatted quietly with his buddy who
currently guarded another important installation halfway across the
base. They were much more interested in the bust size of a certain
young lieutenant that had just transferred into their unit, and
were thanking their lucky stars for coed assignments.

“I’m telling you, man, she’s gotta be at
least a forty double D.” The soldier said, his smile wide as he
spoke. Suddenly, as he listened to his friend counter with a
measurement of forty-two, a loud clanging noise began to sound. “Oh
shit! I gotta go.” He slammed the phone down. He went for his
radio, but the alarm was too loud. He turned and headed back
towards the lobby of elevators. He walked to the first one and
punched the button, the door opened immediately, he stepped in, and
doors closed behind him. A few seconds passed when the doors of the
elevator beside it opened, and Jack came out, with his gun in his
hand. Jack ensured that the lobby was empty, and then went through
the door towards the entrance, as he ignored the blare from the
alarm. He reached the front door, which was locked, and hesitated.
He looked from side to side to find something to break the glass
with. Suddenly, he remembered the keys that he had stuck in his
pocket when he and Ted had escaped from this very same building
only a few days before. He reached in and pulled them out. The
third key turned in the lock. Once outside, Jack began to look
closer at the key ring that he had taken from the guard. His eyes
fixated on the car key. Then, for the first time he noticed the
standard military issue jeep parked near the front of the lot. Its
drab tan paint job did not do a good job of camouflaging it in the
parking lot filled with normal shiny cars. He ran to it and hoped
that the key would fit. He also hoped that he could make it to the
restaurant in time to help Ted. He had lost him twice, once for ten
years, and the next time forever, he had thought. He didn’t want it
to happen again. Jack jumped into the jeep, and was relieved that
the key fit. He was ecstatic when the engine turned over. He
slammed the jeep in reverse, and barked the tires as he slid out of
the parking slot. There was hope.

Jack pulled out onto the main road and headed
for the gate. He slowed when another car skidded out onto the
pavement in front of him. As the car ahead approached the gate, the
passenger inside turned sideways and spoke to the driver. Cold
fingers ran down Jack’s spine as he recognized himself. His other
self. Ted was driving the car ahead of him. Though he knew that he
was in a time loop, and the sequence of events as they had
unfolded, it was still hard for him to swallow. Paradoxes. Time
loops. These were not things that he had studied in school.

His mind began to leap ahead as to what he
should do once he got to the restaurant. He would arrive too late
to help and save the couple in the parking lot, but he couldn’t
just approach Ted and his sidekick. That wouldn’t work. The other
Jack would be too blasted away by the paradox to continue with his
job. His only real course of action had one path. He had to find a
place to lay low. He needed to see into the alcove where Ted would
take Smith. He needed a clear shot. If Jack or Ted saw him before
he could take the shot, they would stop him, and even kill him if
they had to. As of yet, they had no idea how bad this was going to
get. He began to run over and over the layout of the alleys behind
the restaurant in his mind, as he mindlessly followed his
counterparts across town. He accelerated when they did. He slowed
down when they did. When they made it through the railroad
crossing, even as the crossing arms came down, he was shocked that
he didn’t. He came to a full stop, and looked back to the left to
see if a train was coming. He didn’t see a train. He took his foot
off of the brake and began to coast forward as he turned to the
right. Suddenly a train blared its horn as it blew through the
intersection. Jack slammed his foot back down on the brake, and his
heart skipped a beat. Though he cursed train crossings, he was
suddenly thankful for crossing arms. He waited as car after car
rocketed past. Finally the last car whipped through the
intersection, and Jack turned around the crossing arm, and
accelerated through. He had lost valuable time, but at least he
wasn’t far away.

Moments later, Jack slid to a stop across the
main street, and jumped out of jeep. He timed the oncoming traffic,
dodged in between the cars on the road, and ran immediately to the
rear of the alley. He pulled his gun, and kicked the safety off as
he approached the corner of the alley. He laid his back against the
brick wall, and slowly peeked around the corner. He could see into
the alcove. Ted had Smith against the wall, but there wasn’t enough
room to get a decent shot. He brought his gun up anyway, and hoped
that if he timed it right, he could make it count. There was no
more time to find another place, and he still couldn’t come out
into the open. He braced his right hand with his left and leaned
heavily against the brick. He fought to slow his breathing so that
he would be ready if an opportunity presented itself. The sudden
beep from his watch caused a wave of nausea to hit him as he
realized that it was time. Through his gun sights he saw Smith
whirl and face Ted. Jack fired. The weapon kicked in his hand, and
obscured his view. As the gun came down, he saw Ted crumpled on the
ground. Smith fired at his other persona. The other Jack
frantically dove out of the way. Jack raised his gun again and
started to aim towards Smith. Suddenly he turned towards him. Smith
saw him and began to shoot. The bullets ricocheted off of the brick
wall just inches from his face.

Jack pulled back. He stuck his arm around the
corner and fired two rounds blindly. Smith rounded the corner at
full speed and fired almost at point blank range. The bullet missed
Jack by fractions of an inch as he barreled into him, and knocked
him to the ground. As Jack landed, his gun clattered to the ground
beside him, just barely out of reach. Smith regained his composure,
stood up and aimed his gun at Jack. Jack stared back coldly, as
Smith pulled the trigger. The firing pin fell, but only a click
sounded from the gun. It was empty. Jack lunged for his gun, but
Smith kicked him in the chest, and knocked the breath out of him.
He fell backwards and rolled towards the brick wall in a semi-fetal
position. Suddenly Jack’s other self ran out of the alley. He was
too fixated on identifying where Smith had gone. He did not see
Jack as he laid on the ground. He ran by and disappeared. Almost a
minute passed before Jack could finally breathe again. He sat up,
grabbed his gun, and very carefully stood up. He walked past the
entrance to the alley and looked at Ted as he lay on the ground. A
lone tear came to his eye as he turned away to cross the
street.

Suddenly, behind him, he heard a sound. He
stopped and turned back around. He listened intently to see if the
sound came again. Again, a soft moan. He ran towards Ted. As he
approached, Ted’s arm moved towards his head.

“Ted! Ted! Can you hear me?” Ted rolled his
head towards Jack, and grimaced.

“I’ve been shot, you idiot. I’m not deaf.” He
struggled to get into a sitting position, and Jack bent down to
help him. “Damn I’m glad you called me.” Ted said as he put a
finger through one of the many holes in his shirt.

“Body armor?” Jack asked.

“Yeah. It’s heavy and it’s hot. But it saved
my ass.” He chuckled as Jack helped him to his feet.

“You okay?”

“Yeah. Actually I am. A couple of busted
ribs. I’ll probably feel like shit tomorrow.”

“Yeah, but at least you’ll be around
tomorrow.” Jack said as Ted looked up at him and paused.

“Wait a minute, now. Just which Jack are you.
The best I can figure, there are three of you assholes running amok
in this city tonight.”

“The first. Well the last. Damn it, can this
get any more confusing? I’m the one that called you.”

“Okay. Now that we’ve got that straight, I
think...where is Smith.”

“He got away. The other me was chasing him,
but he’ll get away again. Our best bet-”

“Is to get him at your house...tonight.”

“Exactly. But this time, no bullshit. We see
him, we shoot. No hesitation.”

“My sentiments exactly.” Jack put his arm
around Ted and helped him to walk towards the end of the alley.
“We’ll get him, Jack.” Ted said in an effort to comfort him. Jack
smiled slightly.

“I already did, Ted. Right place, but wrong
time.”

“I don’t get it.” Ted answered. Jack
explained about how he was knocked unconscious the last time that
he had tried to stop Smith. How Smith had killed the family, and
the chase that ensued. They were in Jack’s stolen jeep and on the
road back to Ted’s place before he finished.

“So even though you’ve already killed this
bastard, we’ve got to kill him again?”

“Like I said. Right place. Wrong time.”
Silence ensued for a mile or more before Jack spoke up again. “Do
you think that time can be changed? I mean, are we wasting our
time. Is this whole mess destined to happen again and again no
matter how many times we come back?” Ted looked at him, as Jack
stared at the road ahead, his jaw set.

“I don’t think so, Jack. I mean, look at me.
I’m alive. Is that what happened last time?” Jack looked at him,
and shook his head, as he confirmed Ted’s suspicions that he had
been killed in the other time line. “If that could be changed then
why can’t we change the outcome for your family? Why can’t we save
them?" He asked. Jack thought for a moment.

“I don’t know, Ted. But it just seems
like...like...every time we change one little thing, something else
changes to balance it. Like just now, I was there. I intended to
shoot Smith before he ever had a chance to shoot you. Before he
ever even had any real idea that he was going to shoot you. But I
couldn’t get a clear shot.”

“But I’m still here.”

“Yeah, but he shot you anyway. Don’t you see?
Maybe we can change some things, but maybe we can’t others. Big
things. Important things.” The two rode in silence the rest of the
way to Ted’s hotel, each consumed by their own thoughts. Thoughts
of what had been, could have been, almost was, and will be. Tonight
they had to be successful, failure was not an option.

Jack wheeled the stolen jeep into the parking
lot of Ted’s hotel complex, and at Ted’s direction, found a parking
space fairly close to his room. Jack brought the jeep to an abrupt
stop and jumped out. He ran around to help Ted out of the jeep. He
said he felt a bit better, though he knew that he would feel worse
in the morning. The pain from his cracked ribs and sore chest had
dissipated somewhat. As he stood up, he stretched, as he tried to
loosen his tightened muscles and ease any stiffness that had
already begun to set in.