In Times Like These Boxed Set

by Nathan Van Coops

  “Hurry! You’re gonna be too late!” her companion adds.

  I cut left and veer around a barrier made from leafy tree limbs. These obstructions are laid out in a particular pattern. As random as they seem, the positioning is deliberate. It’s a maze.

  “And now entering the arena from the north . . . he’s merciless, he’s unforgiving—he once beat his own son so badly he gave him brain damage . . . I give you the first Tsar of Russia—Ivan the Terrible!”

  A cascade of booing sweeps through the crowd. I pivot in place to get a sense of the sun. Which way is north? I get my bearings and keep moving toward the center of the arena. The twists and turns are disorienting. I have to be almost there.

  “The lions are certainly looking hungry,” the announcer says.

  Oh shit. There are lions already in here somewhere? I cast a quick glance behind me.

  Piper screams.

  The sound pierces the air ahead of me. She’s close. The far side of the next barrier.

  I run. When I round the pile of timber in my way, I skid to a halt.

  Not good.

  Piper is up a tree. Well, a tree house. Sort of. It’s a shoddy-looking structure that looks more likely to collapse than anything. Someone has shored up one side of a precarious wooden platform with a tree trunk, but it’s no longer alive. The whole thing looks like something you’d find in a backyard jungle gym—if you were a terrible parent with no regard for safety.

  “Help me!” Piper yells. She’s clinging to a part of the tree house structure near the very top. One of her hands is secured to the post with rope. She’s prying at the knots with her other hand. “Help!”

  “I’m here!” I shout back.

  Piper glances my way and looks down.

  “Dad!”

  Then I see why she was screaming.

  A lion has found its way to the base of the far side of the tree house. It’s heard my shouting and is now eyeing me.

  The big cat is golden and beautiful and utterly terrifying. It looks pissed.

  It’s clear now that it’s a lioness. I’m pretty sure that’s worse. The lioness lifts her head to look back at Piper and stretches upward, testing the strength of the tree house supports. The movement is almost lazy, the way a house cat might stretch up the back of a couch. Only this cat’s claws and teeth are deadly.

  That little girl will not die here.

  The thought rushes through my brain. Not like this. Not without a fight.

  I slam the spear into the edge of my shield and then repeat it, making as much noise as possible.

  “Hey! Get away!” I have no idea if my shooing motion with the spear and shield are remotely a good idea, but it seems to work. The lioness drops to all fours and hunkers down in the dirt. I hoist the spear in the air, then bang the shield a few more times as I walk forward.

  The lioness leans, then freezes halfway out of her crouch. She’s indecisive.

  “From the south gate, I would like you to witness the most hated man of the Twentieth Century, the monster himself—Adolf Hitler!”

  The crowd erupts again, this time into fierce booing. I don’t take my eyes off the cat.

  “Get away! Get!” I bang the shield again and the lioness snarls at me, but she retreats. She slinks beyond the next barricade, her tail swishing.

  I’ve done it! At least for now.

  I drop the spear. I need my hands. The shield will have to go too. There’s no way I’m getting up the rungs of the tree house ladder with it still on my arm. I recall watching Captain America perform all manner of feats with a shield in the movies, including slinging it effortlessly onto his back and still performing acrobatic stunts. That’s some brand of Hollywood bullshit because no matter how hard I try, the only time the shield is out of my way is when I leave it on the ground.

  I clamber up the makeshift tree house fast, only pausing once as the structure sways. I ignore my screaming internal alarm sirens and force myself up to the platform. Piper is wide-eyed. Once I’m to her she looks back to the barricade where we last saw the lioness. “I’m scared.”

  “I know you are, kiddo. So am I. But we’re getting out of here.” I pull the multi-tool from my pocket and extract the knife blade, using it to cut Piper free. Once she’s loose, she clings to my waist.

  “And from the west gate, I give you our reigning champion of today’s events. The Mongol conqueror and warlord of warlords, Genghis Khan!”

  This time people are screaming with excitement. The noise of hooves on dirt is quickly drowned out. Apparently this murderous man has won them over with his exploits.

  Whatever game is afoot, I’d rather not play. I drop to one knee and extract the chronometer from my pocket. I get to work on the screws on the backing plate.

  “What are you doing?” Piper asks.

  “I’ve got a plan. I’m going to get us out of here. Keep watch for me.”

  Snarling and yowling erupts from an area to the south.

  “Oh! It looks like Ivan the Terrible has been discovered!” The announcer sounds excited by the prospects. “Let’s see how he does against his fearsome new opponents.”

  The screws on the chronometer take what feels like an eternity to remove, but I know in reality it’s less than a minute. People in the stands can see me from their seats, but I doubt any have a clear view of what I’m up to. I do my best to conceal the chronometer behind my hands in case any of them have binocular lenses.

  A shout of collective surprise goes up from the crowd.

  “Oh my,” the announcer says. “Well, I guess that does it for Ivan. That’s a point for the lion pride.”

  Shit. I study the part of the maze that people seem to be watching, but I can’t make anything out from here. I’d better hurry.

  “Dad?”

  “Yeah?” I keep my focus on the chronometer. I get the backing plate free and search carefully for the power cell connection. It’s a powerful device, and it won’t do to damage it in the process.

  “Dad!”

  I look up this time. Piper is looking over the edge of the platform. I follow her gaze and find the source of her worry. The lioness is back.

  Or rather, another lioness is back. I’d swear this one is bigger.

  Piper retreats from the edge of the platform. The cat circles the tree house, sniffing the air and eyeing us in a fashion that I can’t help but think is a hungry expression. She seems to be focused on Piper.

  “You stay close to me,” I say. “And keep your eyes on her. I think they are less likely to confront head on while you are watching them.”

  I’m pretty sure I’m not lying. Haven’t I heard that somewhere?

  “Do lions eat people?” Piper asks. “Are they going to eat us?”

  “They prefer antelope,” I say. “You aren’t an antelope, are you?” I finally locate the power cell. What had Abe said? Was it set the time you want first and then disconnect it, or was it the other way around?

  “It looks like things are getting interesting for Benjamin Travers and his young companion. The other members of the pride seem to have located them. Will this spell the end for the heroic time traveler?” I look up as the announcer says my name.

  The announcer must have cameras in here somewhere. He knows we’re in trouble.

  “There are two now,” Piper says.

  “What?” But I don’t need her to say anything else. It’s true. The second lioness has entered our section of the maze from the north. She stretches up one support post, but this animal doesn’t hesitate long. She crouches, twitches her tail, and leaps. Razor sharp claws find purchase in the wood of the platform. The big cat is now only feet away from me, ears flat and muscles straining. Her rear paws scrabble to find a grip on the post below, and for a single horrifying second, she begins to pull herself up.

  Then the post gives way.

  With a jolt and a shudder, the thick beam holding up one corner of the tree house fails. It crashes to the dirt below us. The lioness releases her grip, dr
opping nimbly to four paws before retreating from the creaking structure. But she doesn’t go far.

  My relief at the lion’s fall is immediately subverted by the swaying of the platform. I shove the chronometer and multi-tool into my pockets and snatch up Piper, pulling her to me. She shrieks as the platform sways the opposite direction. There are only three support posts remaining, and every one of them is in motion.

  My breath is caught in my throat. Piper’s grip on my jacket tightens. The crowd sends up a collective gasp as a second support pole comes apart beneath us. My last thought is that I never would have expected my day to end like this . . .

  The platform tips and gravity seizes us.

  We fall.

  17

  “It’s easy to get nostalgic about the past. Just remember that those citizens of yesterday were dreaming of a better future. You still have the opportunity to prove them right.” -Journal of Dr. Harold Quickly, 1977

  I don’t hate heights. I hate the ground.

  As I hit the dirt, my legs buckle under me and I roll. Piper sprawls next to me, along with a pile of splintered timber. The collapsing tree house raises a cloud of dust around us with continuing thuds of falling boards.

  I can’t see the lions.

  “Time to go!” I say, scrambling to my feet and helping Piper to hers. She winces as she stands, then teeters against me.

  “Ow! Ow ow ow.” She lifts her foot and clutches at my arm.

  “Is it your ankle?”

  She nods, a pained expression across her face.

  That’s going to be trouble. We had little to no chance of outrunning lions as it was, but now we’ll be sitting ducks.

  I frantically search the rubble where I left my weapons. Piper coughs from the dust.

  The collapse of the tower seems to have startled the lionesses away, but I can’t imagine it’s for long.

  I locate the shield and drag it out from under some plywood. The shaft of the spear is beneath it.

  Turning to Piper, I shrug out of my jacket. “Here, put this on.” Leather won’t help much against lion claws, but I have another idea.

  Piper doesn’t argue. She slips her arms through the oversized jacket. “It’s too big.”

  “That’s because I want you to get as big as possible.” I crouch and move her around to my back. “Get on my shoulders, like we did to escape from the hut.”

  Piper limps closer and climbs onto my back. I position her legs over my shoulders, and she grips the top of my head to hold on.

  “When these lions come back we’re going to be huge, okay? I want you to wave your arms and get as big as possible. We’re going to be the biggest, scariest thing they’ve ever seen.”

  I get a grip on the shield and spear and use them to keep my balance as I stand. I teeter slightly as Piper gets situated, but it seems to work.

  I have a choice to make. It’s not a pleasant one.

  I need to get the chronometer apart, but I’m currently holding the spear with one hand and the shield in the other.

  I need more hands.

  “I’m going to give you the spear, okay?” I hold the handle up. “Use both hands. If anything tries to hurt us, you stab it.”

  “What if I miss?”

  “It’s okay. I’ve got a plan.”

  My plan is currently in several pieces in my pocket, but I retrieve the partially disassembled chronometer as I walk us carefully away from the wreckage of the tree house. I head toward the edge of the arena. As the dust clears, I have a better view of the stands. People aren’t even watching. Many of them are on phones or viewing tablets. The entire crowd erupts into cheering, however, and a few look up to catch the action on the far side of the arena. Most stay focused on their devices. That’s when I realize they are seeing the action there too.

  “Hey!” I shout toward the nearest group of spectators. “Help us!”

  One middle-aged man looks up and seems surprised to see us. He points toward the north end of the arena. “There’s a safe place. If you get in, you can survive.”

  A safe place. I start to turn north.

  “But it’s only going to fit one!”

  The melodic voice of the announcer comes on over the speakers again. “We’ve got a new threat from the south. Looks like . . . yes, that’s a pack of grey wolves. Can our contenders survive this new danger? Only one competitor will claim the safety of the cage.”

  The sound of hooves makes me turn. Genghis Khan flies past a set of barricades to our left, his horse at a full gallop.

  I swear under my breath.

  With Piper on my shoulders I can’t move very quickly. I stagger onward, retrieving the multi-tool from my pocket and studying the innards of the chronometer. I’ve had training on these, but I never thought I’d be doing repairs like this . . .

  “Dad?” Piper sounds worried. She pivots the spear to our left. I turn to see several wolves go loping past on the trail of the Mongol and his horse. They disappear past the barricades without noticing us.

  “Stay ready,” I whisper.

  I locate the power cell for the chronometer and pry the terminal loose. No time to waste now. I turn the chronometer over in my palm and study the rings. We need a destination time.

  “Dad!” This time Piper doesn’t bother with subtlety. Her knee bangs into the side of my face as she pivots on my shoulders. I spin to find the problem behind us.

  One of the wolves has tracked us down.

  Shit.

  Piper hoists the spear, keeping it in front of us. “That’s it,” I say. “Wave that thing around.”

  I position the shield across my body, peering over the top of it. The wolf is lean and hungry-looking, a thin body with long legs and protruding hips. It hasn’t bared its teeth, however. It’s frozen in place, analyzing us.

  “Get away!” I shout. I flail my one free arm and take a step toward it. “Get!”

  The wolf retreats a few steps but doesn’t go far.

  “Get away!” Piper repeats. The wolf snarls at us and Piper shrieks.

  “It’s okay,” I say. “Just keep your eyes on him.” My mind flashes to every wolf encounter I’ve ever seen in the movies and the hours of nature documentaries I’ve watched over the years. If we can deal with them one at a time, we might have a chance.

  I glance back at my chronometer. Destination. We need an anchor first. Everything around us has been lifted and bulldozed into place in the last few hours. I have no idea where any of it will be in the hours to come either. I don’t want to use a wall of the arena. Won’t be much of an escape if we don’t get out of here.

  A guttural roar echoes off the arena walls.

  “Oh! It looks like the wolf pack has discovered the lion pride!” the announcer says, and the crowd murmurs its delight. A wolf yelps in the distance, and the wolf near us perks its ears up. It skirts us cautiously, then runs to join its pack.

  “We did it!” Piper shouts.

  “Good job, kiddo,” I say, turning north again. “Now let’s find a way out of here.”

  I’m hoping the distraction of the lions will keep the wolves occupied long enough to find this safe place the spectator was talking about. I keep my eyes open for anchors as I move, working my way out and around the barricades, away from the last place I saw the wolves.

  It doesn’t take long to find what the spectator was referring to. The shouting gives it away.

  Adolf Hitler and Genghis Khan are at a standoff.

  The Führer has found himself a crossbow, but it looks like he only has one shot left. Genghis Khan has ditched his horse and is lingering on the opposite side of a ladder that leads up to another platform. This platform has a small cage affixed to the top. It looks secure enough to protect someone from the lions and high enough to be safe from wolves. But it’s just an open cage. No protection from arrows or swords or spears.

  Safe place my ass.

  Hitler glances our way but keeps the crossbow aimed at the Mongol. I don’t blame him. I doubt a man wit
h a nine-year-old girl on his shoulders is his biggest threat. Genghis Khan is holding a wooden shield and has it raised toward Hitler. He’s still armed with a sword as well. He doesn’t look worried. I get the impression it’s not the first time he’s faced arrows, but he’s keeping his distance just the same. He’s suffering from the same issue I had before. Climbing the ladder to the cage means putting something down, and that will leave him exposed.

  The crowd is getting excited. The occasional shouting from the stands has morphed into a steady roar.

  This can’t last long.

  “What do we do?” Piper asks.

  I crouch and let her slide off my back. She doesn’t look ready to relinquish her grip on the spear, so I let her keep it. I have a decision to make. I need an anchor. The solution dawns on me and makes me marvel at my own stupidity. It’s been right in front of my face. The shield. It was lying face-up in the armory when I walked in. If I can jump us back . . .

  I do some estimating in my head. How long have I been in here? I back away from the safe zone slowly. If I can get to a wall, maybe one of the spectators can tell me. I can also get out of range of the crossbow. I keep myself between Piper and Hitler as we move. “Come on. I have an idea.”

  But we don’t get far.

  “Dad!” Piper yanks on my shirt.

  The wolves are back.

  This time there are more of them.

  A snarling alpha male is creeping toward us. His black fur is raised on his shoulders and his teeth are bared. I get a wave of chills up my back just looking at him. I grab Piper by the hand and pull her away. She’s still limping.

  I’m not the only one who’s seen the threat, and these aren’t the only wolves. The pack has separated and is entering the safe zone from multiple angles. Hitler is forced to retreat. He looks worried now. With only one arrow and this many targets, I would be too.

  It’s time to make a decision. Trust the humans or face the wolves.

  If it was anyone other than these two it might be an easier choice.

  “Can I get back on your shoulders?” Piper says.

  “We’re not staying,” I say as we inch closer to the Mongol and the ladder to the cage.