Sonya grimaced. “Please don’t call him that, it makes him seem human. And yes, I am. It’s not much of a dream, though. He just sort of stands there in the darkness with that evil smile, and stares at me like he’s studying me under a microscope.”
“That’s really strange.”
“I know. Do you think it’s actually him? Like could he really be in my head and not just part of a dream?”
Martin shrugged. “Anything’s possible with that guy.”
Sonya shivered at the thought.
“Well, I need to get ready for school. I hope we can put this behind us. I still want to go to 2018.”
“I love you,” Martin said, and kissed her on the forehead.
* * *
When the calendar flipped to September over the weekend, Martin felt a calm settle over him that he hadn’t felt since arriving in 1996, nearly six months ago. The sense of doom he had felt turned numb after several weeks, but now he felt it starting to lift completely. He had grown over the last six months and was ready to save his long lost daughter.
Sonya had highlighted the big day on the calendar with a big red circle, and every time Martin looked in the calendar’s direction he felt that circle staring at him like the Devil’s eye from a pit of darkness.
He had one more full week and weekend to make it through before encountering the reason for his trip to the past. Martin spent that final week ensuring he had the few things together that he wanted to bring back to 2018. His conscience pleaded to follow Izzy for the week, insisting he would be able to prevent the crisis ahead of time, but he knew better. The past would never make this task that straightforward. Izzy would be right where she always was like any other day: walking home from school by herself, her ponytail swinging with each step she took.
As he had vowed from the onset, much to his disgust, he had kept away from Izzy and his past self for nearly the entirety of his time in 1996. His one close encounter had been plenty to reassure him that he had made the right decision. Next Monday would change everything, as he and Sonya would keep a close watch on his old house from the time school let out.
Considering Izzy went missing in the middle of the night, everyone assumed she had sneaked out of the house. While Martin could stop her as soon as she stepped foot outside, he also needed answers after all these years. There were holes to fill in the timeline of events. He’d follow Izzy until her situation turned dire. Where did she go? Who did she meet with? What was she up to? Martin had a hard time over the past two decades wrapping his head around the fact that his innocent angel of a daughter may have been living a double life. Was this the first time she left the house in the middle of the night?
Find out after this brief commercial break, he thought, and chuckled nervously to himself. Just six months ago—or ten minutes—Martin had a pistol in his mouth after a lifetime full of sorrow and desperation. Now he had hope and a clear mind, and a healthy body that no longer begged to be put out of its misery. He’d never been the type to pray, and often questioned the existence of God, but on this particular Sunday night he thanked God for everything, especially Sonya. Maybe we sometimes get a second chance to right our wrongs, to love the right people. Martin didn’t know for sure, but knew he would never take life for granted again.
As he dozed off to sleep later that night, Sonya curled into a ball with her back to him and he felt something he never thought he’d feel again: a full heart.
* * *
Over the course of the week, Martin kept his mind distant from the upcoming task. He didn’t want to overthink anything, and preferred to make quick reactions when the time came. Sonya agreed to follow Izzy home from a distance that week, every day after school, just to make sure she wasn’t being followed by anyone else. Each day the reports came back negative.
Meanwhile, Martin focused on books and word searches. The book of crossword puzzles had been thrown into a drawer where he’d hopefully never have to see them again. Word searches felt more therapeutic, and reading different stories took his mind to another world altogether. While these helped occupy his mind, he felt a constant, subtle tug on his brain.
Excuse me, Mr. Briar, just a gentle reminder that you’ll be changing your life on Monday, his inner voice said, like a doctor’s office calling to remind him of an important appointment coming up.
He could no longer deny the growing uncertainty and anxiety forming. Every day closer felt like a pending date with doom.
What if I fail? What if I’ve gone through all this for nothing? What if there’s nothing I can actually do to stop this?
It was a realistic possibility he had managed to ignore this whole time, but with his date with destiny looming around the corner, it seemed a flood of every imaginable possibility had come rushing into his mind. He fully expected a hard fight from the past next Monday night and knew he might come close to encountering death again. But there’s always a price to pay for something you longed for, right?
When Friday night arrived and Sonya was home for the weekend, Martin couldn’t eat, sit still, nor focus on reading. He felt as useless as ever, wishing he could jump forward to Monday night already and get down to business.
Sonya had done a good job at killing his doubts about the situation and put his mind at ease. He had wanted to hold off on drinking in the days leading up September 9th, but happily enjoyed a glass of whiskey. It was the most relaxed he had felt all week, and he fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.
* * *
On Sunday, September 8th, Martin and Sonya spent the morning cooking a grand breakfast. Sonya had been quiet on Saturday as they wasted the day on the couch watching TV, even ordering pizza for dinner to avoid having to do anything.
This morning, though, Sonya had an extra wave of energy as she stood at the stove, dancing to the radio as she prepared bacon, eggs, and pancakes.
“If this is my last full day in my house. I’m gonna enjoy every second of it,” she had told Martin when he entered the kitchen groggy-eyed and confused at the scene of her swaying hips at 7:30 in the morning.
He was glad that she seemed relaxed. Even Martin felt nervous about returning to 2018. Life really was simple in 1996. He could spend the days at work and come home to enjoy dinner and watch the news to see what happened in the world during the day.
Fuck you, Chris, he thought. I could’ve had a great life here if you just left me alone.
The thought of Chris forcing him back to 2018 triggered a tingle of hate for the old man. No one liked being told what to do, and Martin Briar was no exception.
After they devoured breakfast—Martin ate everything he could get his hands on thanks to his appetite returning—Sonya retreated into the bedroom to pack as many valuables as she could into an oversized gym bag.
“I’ve gotta pack my entire life into this one bag,” she said, shaking her head as she stared around her bedroom.
“Don’t worry about anything like clothes or stuff like that. We can replenish your wardrobe when we arrive—we’ll need to, in fact, unless you want to look like you just arrived from the 90’s.”
“Oh, yeah? What do they wear in 2018, some sort of spacesuit?” she teased.
“Fashion doesn’t change too much, I suppose. Although the young women seem to wear a lot less and show more skin. I wouldn’t be opposed to you trying out that style if you really wanted.”
He shot promiscuous eyebrows at her with a lewd wink.
“I’m sure you would like that. Tell me, are you the old man who always gets caught looking at the college girls?”
Martin cackled. “Of course not! I never get caught!”
Sonya burst into a cheery laughter and shook her head as she returned to her bag. “I’m not even sure what I should bring with me. I have some family heirlooms, but those would take up maybe ten percent of this bag.”
“Then just take that. You don’t need anything else. I came here with the clothes on my back and my cell phone in my pocket.”
“Your alie
n phone that doesn’t even work,” Sonya teased. “I’m still convinced it’s just a fancy Gameboy until you can prove otherwise.”
They had plenty of discussions about the future’s technology, most of which Sonya called “impossible.” No, there couldn’t be one device that made phone calls, took pictures, kept your schedule, and had games to play…and fit in the palm of your hand. She was in for quite the wake-up call in 2018.
“Just take what’s important to you. Things can be replaced, but memories can’t. So take any pictures, heirlooms, anything like that.” Martin returned to a more serious tone. “No need to overthink it.”
“Are you ready for tomorrow?” Sonya asked.
“Yeah, I feel good about it.”
“No, Martin. I mean it. Are you ready?” She stared at him with crossed arms. “Our lives are going to change forever within the next 36 hours. I’ve come to terms with it; I feel like you haven’t.”
Martin didn’t respond immediately and met her stare. Behind those eyes he had fallen in love with was a scared woman. Not scared in the sense of raw fear that made you want to hide in your room, but scared like a kid leaving for college for the first time. The fear of the unknown could cause even the most mentally strong person to crumble.
“I’m ready. All I’ve envisioned since I arrived here is bringing Izzy back home. It still doesn’t feel real. I keep waiting to be woken up by my alarm, likely in a heavy sweat from all the booze I drank the night before, and realize this was all a dream. But I don’t think that’s going to happen.”
Martin paused to gather more thoughts.
“I know I might die tomorrow. I’ve never thought about death before, not really, but now I can’t help but wonder what it feels like to stop living. I know that’s a realistic outcome, just like it was at Columbine. I know I might lose you. What if the past doesn’t let you come with me? This could be our last night together, and if it is, I promise I’ll come find you in 2018. You’ll be in your 70’s, but I don’t care. I want to be with you.”
Tears welled in Sonya’s eyes, and Martin figured she had never considered these possibilities.
“Don’t cry. Remember we’re in this together,” Martin said, wiping the tears from her face. “I love you, and if you want to wait 22 years for me, I’ll be there in 2018 looking for you.”
He pulled her in and kissed her on the lips.
Sonya sobbed into his embrace, her body shuddering against his as they would spend the rest of the day together in minimal conversation, wanting nothing more than to enjoy each other’s presence.
The reality had finally sunk in for both of them. Tomorrow would change them both. Forever.
45
Chapter 45
“Martin, get out of bed!” Lela Briar shouted, her voice brimming with fear. “Hurry!”
Having worked a swing shift the night before, Martin hadn’t arrived home until two in the morning, and hadn’t joined Lela in bed until just before three.
He shot upright in bed, cloudy-eyed and dazed, and swung his legs mindlessly over the edge. His eyes felt swollen and bloodshot as he swayed to catch his balance.
“MARTIN!” Lela shouted again, and this time he was cognizant to know she was calling from Izzy’s room.
Martin always poked his head into his daughter’s room when he arrived home in the middle of the night. This particular night he had checked on her and saw a lump in the middle of her bed. The fall nights were starting to get cold, so he figured she was just extra bundled up.
He stepped around his pile of clothes and shuffled around the foot of the bed. Izzy’s room was across the hallway where he met Lela, pacing frantically around the bedroom. The sheets were tossed into a mess, the closet door open and appearing to have vomited all of their daughter’s clothes.
“What happened in here?” Martin asked.
“Izzy’s gone!” Lela shouted, her brown hair in a frazzled mess, sweat glistening on her forehead. “I’ve been looking for her for the last half hour. I checked the basement, the bathrooms, everything. Even outside, she’s gone!”
“I’m sure there’s a perfectly good explanation,” Martin said. “She wouldn’t just up and leave without a word.”
“Martin! She’s gone. She’s not here. It’s 6:30 A.M. and she doesn’t need to leave for school for another hour.” She stared at him with bulging blue eyes, fear swimming behind them like a terrified fish. Her slender body trembled in panic.
“I’m sure she headed over early. She loves school, remember?” Martin tried to stay calm, but hearing his own words made the situation seem less likely. Even students who enjoyed school didn’t show up an hour early. Hell, the school wasn’t even open yet. “Was her room like this when you got here? Or did you do this?”
“I did this. I thought she was under the blankets—that’s how it looked—then I kept pulling them back and she wasn’t here. Martin, what do we do?”
Lela’s voice transformed from fear into hysterics in a matter of seconds. “This can’t be happening to us. These things don’t really happen, do they?”
Martin’s heart tumbled through his chest and stomach. You always heard about kids going missing on the news, but never consider it a reality – your reality.
“Was she here when you got home?” Lela asked in between sobs.
Martin scrunched his face. “I don’t know,” he said reluctantly. “I checked, and saw the lump under the blankets, but I didn’t come all the way in to know for sure. I never do in the middle of the night.”
Lela’s body heaved as she buried her face into her shaking hands.
“Relax. We still have places to check, and we can’t jump to any conclusions yet.” More lies, keep it up, Marty. “Call my mom, see if maybe she went there. If not, then call the police. I’m gonna drive down to the school and to some her friends’ houses. She’s gotta be at one of those places. She doesn’t know anyone else.”
“Then go, I’ll call your mom.”
Martin’s mother lived two blocks away, and Izzy would often walk there to visit, although never so early in the morning. He hopped into his car and drove slowly through the neighborhood, checking both sides of the street for any sign of Izzy. A light fog settled in, limiting visibility. Martin arrived to Larkwood Middle School to find it abandoned, drove around the grounds for ten minutes in search of any clue, and then stopped by each of Izzy’s friend’s houses in the neighborhood. With each passing house and no sign of Izzy, Martin felt the pillars that held up his sanity dissolve one by one.
The school pulled at him like a magnetic force, so he returned for one more look.
The green mass that was the school’s lawn grew bigger with each house passing in a blur. When Martin reached the school’s block, he turned left and drove toward the main entrance, again feeling pulled to it, as if he were watching himself drive the car in an out-of-body experience. As he turned into the school’s parking lot he saw Izzy standing at the school’s main entrance, only the school wasn’t Larkwood Middle School.
It was Columbine High School.
Martin parked and jumped out of the car in a swift motion, sprinting for his daughter. She stood still, facing his direction, with her head down. Izzy wore pajamas, a matching set with Ariel and Flounder from Little Mermaid spotted all around.
“Hi, Daddy,” she said, looking up. “It’s okay, Daddy. I’m okay.”
Tears rolled down her soft face as Martin embraced her. She remained stiff in his grip. Martin squeezed, but felt no life in the girl. She had no scent, no warmth, but it was her; there was no denying her green eyes or her sweet voice.
“Daddy, go home. You can’t save me. Even if you did, they will still take me. Here.” She looked back to Columbine.
Martin took a step back. Was Izzy implying that if she lived she would’ve been killed in the Columbine attacks? How would Izzy have gone to Columbine? They were nowhere near the level of income to even consider moving to Littleton. A lot could change in a three-year span, and maybe th
e Briar family continued in an alternate universe where Izzy never went missing and they moved across town to where she would meet her eventual doom at her new school. But Martin thought it to be a long shot.
“Izzy,” he said through a swollen throat. “What happened?”
“It was an accident, Daddy.”
“What accident?” Martin squatted to meet Izzy’s eyes.
Izzy sobbed, yet remained motionless as she stood in her pajamas.
“It was an accident. Please don’t be mad, Daddy. I love you.”
Izzy turned and started to walk toward the school.
“Izzy!” Martin shouted, his legs frozen. “IZZY!”
When she reached the entrance, she turned and looked over her shoulder, locking eyes with Martin. “I love you, Daddy.” She pulled the door open and stepped into the school, letting the door glide shut behind her.
The force that kept Martin’s feet stuck in the ground like concrete had lifted, and he tumbled forward, lunging for the door handles and clawing at them like a rabid cat.
“Izzy, come back!” he screamed, his face moist with sweat and tears. He pulled on the door handles, but none of them budged. Through the window was darkness. No hallways, no office, just a pit of blackness. He knew the doors wouldn’t open, but kept yanking at them to the point he thought his shoulder might pop out of its socket.
“Izzy, please!”
* * *
Martin sprung awake, crying, sweating, and panting. He was in his bedroom, Sonya by his side, stirring from his jerky motions. The sheets were soaked with sweat and clung to his lower back like leeches.
“It’s just a dream,” he whispered. “Just a bad dream. It doesn’t mean anything.”
Like hell it doesn’t mean anything. Why do you keep lying to yourself? You haven’t once had a dream about Izzy since she went missing, and now this happens on the eve of your supposed rescuing her?
[Wealth of Time 01.0] Wealth of Time Page 25
