Forty Leap (32 page)

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Authors: Ivan Turner

Tags: #science fiction, #future, #conspiracy, #time travel

BOOK: Forty Leap
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Further down below, the small staircase
opened up into a narrow corridor. There was barely enough room for
a man to fit. Robert, Livvie’s husband, would have had to squeeze
his way in and through. Jeremy urged me on for a bit and then we
stopped. It was very claustrophobic. When I tried to speak, he
shushed me. He doused the light quickly and we were bathed in
darkness.

Presently there came the sound of footsteps
and voices from above. Through the floor, it was too difficult to
hear what was being said, but I could surmise questions about my
whereabouts. If the police discovered the trap door, I didn’t know
what would happen. We hadn’t reached the end of the tunnel, but I
had no way of knowing how far it went or where it ended up. Escape
was one of those things that, well, escaped me. Wyatt had told me
that they were well prepared for this eventuality. I imagined that
this tunnel, though part of the plan, was not the whole of it.
Remembering Neville’s plan of death and destruction at the Rocky
Mountain Facility, I became suddenly frightened. Were my brothers
prepared to fight? I didn’t want any more fighting. I didn’t want
any more death.

The footsteps and the voices faded, but still
Jeremy kept us down in that dark hole. I once again tried to speak,
the absence of vision making me thirst for the use of another
sense, but Jeremy clamped a hand firmly over my mouth, then
extended one finger across my lips to indicate that I was not to
attempt it again. So I didn’t.

And hour passed. More. We waited in the
silence until a shaft of light burst through at the front end as
the door was opened. Jeremy tensed; I could feel it. He nudged me
away from the opening, slowly at first, then more rapidly. We began
to move deeper into the tunnel, but then Wyatt called out and we
stopped. I was about to answer but Jeremy must have sensed it. His
hand was around my wrist and it squeezed tightly. Wyatt breathed
audibly at the end of the tunnel, told us they were gone and that
we could come out. Jeremy waited another moment, then moved
forward, pulling me along.

“What did they say?” he asked as we pulled
ourselves free.

I squinted in the dim light, my pupils having
grown to the size of ping pong balls. Jeremy shielded his eyes,
too, but seemed less affected.

“They had a search warrant and an arrest
warrant,” Wyatt said. He looked at me. “They’re calling you a
murderer.”

I shook my head. “I didn’t hurt anyone.” Of
course, I had clipped a soldier in the back of the head with a
broom handle, but it’s possible I had saved his life assuming my
efforts had put him out of the battle.

I began to speak, but Jeremy hushed me again.
“Did Martie come out?” he asked.

“She had to. She played her part.”

I was sickened by the dialogue. It made me
feel part of a criminal conspiracy. And I was the principle
criminal. I wanted to flee, to leave this life behind. I ached for
Jennie.

We moved out of the basement and up into the
light. Jeremy was asking Wyatt if he thought they’d be back.

“Undoubtedly,” Wyatt said. “And I’m sure
they’re watching the house.” He turned to me. “You’d better lay low
for a while. Stay away from the windows and don’t go outside.”

After that, there wasn’t much to be said. If
they were watching the house then I couldn’t leave. Once I tried to
get away, the police would know that Jeremy and Wyatt had been
hiding me. So it was hidden that I had to remain. There was one
escape that they couldn’t follow, though. A leap. If I could work
myself up enough to make a leap through time, they would never know
that I had been there. I would once again be untraceable. Of
course, my next leap would likely take me beyond the lifespans of
my brothers. It would be goodbye forever and I would suddenly be
thrust into an alien world in a state of mourning.

In a way, I relished the thought of being
alone. Once all remnants of the past had been cast aside, the
pressure of being cured would also drop away. This notion began to
consume me. I began to think of people who spent good portions of
their lives travelling alone. They never set down roots, never took
spouses or sired children. They just moved from place to place with
a few belongings, seeing the world. Drifters, they were called.
That’s what I would become. I would become a drifter through time.
I would set down roots nowhere. I would move through the decades,
centuries, millennia, seeing the Earth and the human race in
various stages until, until….

Martie was watching the television when we
came up and there was a look of disdain on her face. There was a
news story about me. The government had finally put a face on time
jumping and the people afflicted with it. What timing!

There was footage from the Rocky Mountain
massacre. The facility itself was described as a medical
institution where researchers were experimenting with various
pharmaceuticals. It was played as a very benign institution and the
people who worked there were considered benevolent victims. Forty
time leapers had appeared inside in an effort to steal government
secrets. They showed my picture. I was labeled as a scout and a
spy, video footage of me moving about the complex abundant. Then
they showed Neville’s picture. All of the footage showed him angry
and shooting. Neither of us had been apprehended as of yet, but
strong leads were being pursued.

I sat down heavily.

Martie looked stricken.

Jeremy waved it away. “It’s all crap. You can
see the cells in that footage. The media are going to tear that
story apart.”

“The media just delivered it,” Wyatt said.
“They confirmed the existence of time leapers and labeled them as
villains.”

My heart sank.

“There’s nothing we can do about it now,”
Martie interjected. “He’s stuck here.”

And, for some reason, her acceptance of that
made the whole situation worse.

 

I spent the next couple of days hidden in the
house watching TV and eating. Livvie came by again, this time
alone. We spent a nice Saturday afternoon talking and then bid each
other so long. As the day wore on, the tension in the house
mounted. The waiting was difficult. They were still out there, the
police. Wyatt and Jeremy saw them every time they left the house.
Martie complained about them. Even Livvie had something to say.
They were making no effort to conceal themselves. They were just
watching and waiting to see if I would arrive.

By nightfall, we almost couldn’t stand each
other’s company. Martie excused herself early, as she was wont to
do regularly. My brothers and I sat around staring at each other
for a while and then off we went as well. I was tired, the tension
taking its toll on my psyche. The anticipation was awful. I read
for a little while and then fell asleep.

Sometime around one o’clock in the morning,
Wyatt came to wake me. There was a gleam in his eye and I noticed
that he was fully dressed.

“They’re making a move,” he said, throwing
some clothing at me. “Get dressed.”

Once again, I was groggy from sleep. Why did
these police insist on coming through the door while I was
sleeping? I managed to pull the shirt over my head and slip into
the pants while Wyatt dragged me out of the room. The corridor was
brightly lit, the lights shining from outside the house. Even
through the shades, we were able to see by it. Jeremy was waiting
for us and Martie, the only one still in night clothes, stood by
nervously.

I think Jeremy was about to say something to
her when there came a knocking upon the door. Someone outside
announced himself as a police officer and they swept me away and to
the back of the house. Behind us, we heard the door fly open.

Just a step ahead of the invaders, we made
the cellar. The tiles were already moved aside and the trap door
open. Jeremy went in first and Wyatt pushed me in behind him. We
began to move through the pitch black narrow tunnel. Jeremy was
moving ahead by feel and I was moving with my hand on his shoulder.
I heard the door close behind us and soon felt Wyatt’s presence
behind me. We walked for a short time and then emerged into a
garage of sorts.

It was ingenious, really. The garage was off
of the main road and inside the trees. It wasn’t exactly hidden,
but it would be impossible to reach from the house without behind
noticed. Inside was a blue pickup truck from the early twenty first
century. It was gas powered which Jeremy said gave it a lot more
oomph
. We piled in, the three of us in the front. Jeremy
drove. He pulled slowly out into the trees. From where we sat
idling, we could see the house and the vehicles surrounding it.
There was also a news crew. They weren’t taking any chances with
losing me. And yet here I was. Hopefully well lost.

A second later, Jeremy was pulling away from
the garage and away from the house.

“Will Martie be okay?” I asked.

Jeremy shrugged. “If she keeps her mouth
shut, she’ll be fine. They won’t find you or any evidence you were
even there.”

But Jeremy didn’t seem terribly confident
that she’d keep her mouth shut.

He kept our speed down as we moved through
the trees and eventually found a dirt track. The track was meant
for cars, but seldom used. Our lights were off and the going was
treacherous and interminable. Eventually, though, we reached a main
road and pulled out onto the deserted pavement. Jeremy finally
switched the lights on and we began to drive away.

At first, all seemed peaceful, as if we’d
made a clean break and could go about where we pleased. I had no
idea what my brothers had in mind for their plan, but I didn’t ask.
They seemed tense enough about the whole affair to begin with so I
just let them run things, sitting back and feeling tense
myself.

Then, all at once we were bathed in bright
light and the truck shot forward as Jeremy hit the gas.

“Here we go,” he mumbled, checking the
mirrors and setting his features into a determined countenance.

Behind and around us, we were joined by
different vehicles. Red lights flashed in the nighttime. Jeremy
pushed on, unswerving. Wyatt, teeth gritted, pulled out his phone
and made a call.

“It’s Wyatt. It’s happening.” He listened for
a bit, then spoke over me to Jeremy. “Head for town.”

My tension grew and I began to feel the
warmth of adrenaline as it coursed through my veins. I became aware
of a fluttering sensation in my muscles, as if the pulse of blood
through them had quickened. I tried to recall such a feeling and
failed. Wyatt was conversing with both the person on the other end
of the phone and Jeremy but I could no longer follow the
conversation. I was having a revelation. Without knowing this
feeling, I recognized it for what it was. My body was preparing for
a leap.
I’m too bored to jump!
Unlike Rogers Clinton, I was
not bored. My life was in peril. The lives and freedom of my
brothers was in jeopardy as well. I was incensed. Whatever it was
inside my body that caused me to leap through time was responding
to these feelings. I would leap soon.

I tried to tell my brothers but I couldn’t
find the words. So enthralled was I by the physical feeling that
enveloped me. Outside the truck’s windows, the flat highway morphed
into a complicated web of overlapping and underpassing roadways.
Buildings began to spring up, only a few at first, then more. But I
was only dimly aware of this as I concentrated on the feeling. Why
was it so strong now? Why hadn’t I ever noticed it before? Was it
the tension? Was I more tense now than I had been when I’d leaped
away during the invasion of the GEI installation in the Rocky
Mountains?

“Snap out of it, Mathew!” Wyatt punched me in
the arm.

I looked at him, coming out of my reverie.
“It’s happening. It’s going to happen soon”

Presently I was aware of the sound of a
helicopter.

He grimaced. There were tears in his eyes.
“This is where we say goodbye, then. I love you, Mathew.”

Jeremy spared me a glance, focused on
navigating the streets of this unidentified small Wisconsin
metropolis. “Godspeed, Mathew. Never give up.”

He made two quick turns and we lost the
ground pursuit. The helicopter, however, stayed with us. When he
skidded to a stop, Wyatt got out of the truck and pulled me out
behind him. He pointed up and across the street to a lot where
there was the skeleton of a building under construction. Steel
beams stood in stacks. They created a maze of materials into which
I could get lost for a bit. I nodded, understanding his idea. We
embraced for a moment and then our pursuit came into view. I dashed
off toward the site and he got back into the truck. They pulled
away.

I was suddenly overcome by grief, knowing
that I had said goodbye to my brothers for the last time. My
muscles jittered and shook within my body. There was the sound of
tires, breaks, revving engines. Someone called for me to halt.

And then night turned to dusk and the outside
turned into the inside. I was suddenly tangled up with rubbery
limbs and clothing and hair. I went to the ground, my speed cut
off. I…we, for I had crashed into someone or many someones, rolled
across a carpeted floor. Even though I knew that I had leaped, my
mind couldn’t shift gears away from the pursuit. I could feel the
adrenaline draining from my body, exhaustion setting in. This, too,
was a new feeling.

Forced to slow down and control my movements,
I became aware that the people with which I struggled were no more
than mannequins. Unlike the plastic ones I had known in my
lifetime, these were made of a fleshy elastic. I imagined that they
filled out the clothing better and could be formed to mimic the
contours and body styles of real humans. That, of course, is all
meaningless really. Throughout the course of my adventures, I
imagined this the one opportunity to consider the practicality of
store dummies.

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