Slideways

by Jeffrey Grode

  Ben shook his head. “They pointed guns at us. Why would they do that if they’re supposed to rescue me? I don’t trust them right now.”

  Patty nodded. “I understand how you feel. The CSD agents didn’t treat you very well, but we’re talking about the FBI.” She looked at Jack. “What do you think?”

  Jack exhaled sharply. “People are willing to kill for this technology. I don’t know if your FBI is any different from the CSD, but I’m not ready to trust anyone. Not until we find our grandfathers and bring them home alive.”

  “I agree,” Ben said. “I know I’ve made mistakes in the past, but I have to trust my gut. Mom, I need you to trust me too. Jack and I will find them.”

  She tightened her grip on the watch. One call to the FBI, and the boys could be safe. But what if her father never made it back home? Could she sacrifice him for the boys’ sake? Maybe. She took a deep breath and looked at Ben. He was growing up. He’d crossed worlds and experienced good things and bad, but she still had doubts about his judgment.

  “Mrs. Fuller, Ben is right.” Jack exuded confidence. “We can do this without the FBI. Our search starts in Carmichael where Ben last saw Albert.”

  Patty sighed. So much like Jack. She handed the watch to Ben. “Okay. Can you use the watch to travel to Carmichael?”

  “Maybe.” Ben fiddled with the buttons and the dial on the back.

  “That’s odd,” Ben said. “I can see our position, but the beacon frequency is gone.”

  Jack’s eyebrows furrowed. “Hope we didn’t break it.”

  “Don’t think so. Didn’t fall on it. The display is active.” Ben turned the dial in the back and looked surprised. “I found another frequency at 14:33:03, but I can’t find GranPat’s.”

  “Did they move the beacon?” Patty asked.

  “Don’t know,” Ben muttered, concentrating on the watch.

  “Maybe the FBI turned off GranPat’s beacon,” Jack said. “Could we use this new frequency? Let’s see where it goes.”

  Ben chewed on his lower lip. “Well, okay, but be ready for anything. It might not be Earth.” Ben stood and adjusted the watch. “I’ll use our current coordinates as the destination so we have a frame of reference. We might see what this kitchen looks like in another world.”

  Patty watched Ben turn the dials and frowned. He looked like he knew what he was doing, but should she stop him? How dangerous could this be?

  Jack rose from the kitchen stool, opened the silverware drawer, and snatched a large carving knife.

  “Here we go,” Ben said.

  Kipper rolled over to Ben and sniffed his feet.

  Patty stood by the drying rack near the sink. Her eyebrows knit together. The air shimmered in front of her white refrigerator. The portal opened to the size of a large pumpkin.

  She saw a dark and dusty landscape beyond. The air looked brown. She didn’t see their neighbor’s home, just a scorched remnant of a foundation and a dusty aluminum shaft protruding from the reddish brown soil. No people or plants were visible.

  “I’ve locked the portal size with the silver button,” Ben said softly. “This place seems pretty bleak. Looks like a ventilation shaft next door. Maybe they live underground.”

  “That’s not Earth, or Terra.” Jack stood four feet back from the portal. “Look.”

  A pack of seven mixed breed dogs loped past in the dust. The rear dog, resembling a pit bull, wore a plastic helmet with a small camera and antenna. Ten yards from the portal, the pit bull sniffed the air, and stared at her with the most intelligent eyes she’d ever seen on any animal. Patty shivered.

  Kipper barked.

  The pit bull snarled through jagged teeth and ran toward the portal. Dust fell from its mangy coat.

  “Shut it down!” Jack called.

  “On it.” Ben said.

  Kipper growled.

  Jack stood with his feet apart and held the carving knife tip forward.

  Patty’s eyes opened wide. The dog charged her boys. She grabbed the heavy cast iron pan from the drying rack, took two steps toward the portal, and swung as the beastly dog leapt. She used the double-handed tennis swing her mother had taught her in sixth grade. “Keep yer arse outta my house!”

  Her arms shuddered as the pan bashed the attack dog back and away from her kitchen. The impact arrested her swing, but as the portal closed, she found herself holding half a frying pan. A broken antenna and camera lens lay on the kitchen floor.

  “Dip me in gas!” Jack said. “Nice move.”

  “You slammed that cyber dog.” Ben pried the severed frying pan from her grip. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes.” She checked her fingers. All there. “That place is dangerous.”

  Ben examined the pan. “Now we know what happens if the portal closes on something solid.”

  Jack put the knife down on the counter and picked up the broken antenna. “There’s writing on this metal piece. E-R-D-E 439C. What does Erde mean?”

  Ben shrugged. “Maybe just a serial number.”

  “Earth,” she said. “I took German in high school. Erde means Earth.”

  Ben tilted his head. “German? Maybe it’s a world where Germany won the war?”

  “Who knows?” Patty’s heart pounded. She’d never done anything so crazy. “Whatever world that was, you can’t go there.” She took a deep breath. “But you can’t stay here either.”

  “We’re going to Carmichael.” Jack said. “My Pop-Pop might still be there.”

  Ben nodded. “I agree, but we can’t rescue GranPat unless his beacon is up and running again.”

  She shook her head. So many things to consider. She started to think like the accountant she was and checked the balance sheet. After seeing how the portal watch worked, she understood the technology was a monumental discovery and extremely valuable. Any government would want to take control of teleportation, including the United States. If the FBI confiscated the watch, even with good intentions, she still might never see her father again. But can I trust Ben and Jack to bring him home?

  “You’ll need Dad’s help,” Patty said. “He’s still in Carmichael working with the Sheriff and the FBI. Ben, grab the knapsacks, clothes, and some food just in case. I’ll drive you to Carmichael and we’ll meet Dad somewhere safe. We can figure this out.”

  They packed clothes hurriedly and she transferred chicken, bread, and fruit from the fridge to their knapsacks. Ben grabbed two bottles of water.

  The doorbell rang and her heart fluttered.

  “Mrs. Fuller. FBI. We’d like to speak with you,” came a muffled voice from outside the front door.

  She faced her boys. “You need to leave,” she whispered, “I’ll stall them.” She hugged Jack and then put her hand on Ben’s shoulder. “I’m counting on you to think before you act.” She narrowed her eyes. “Can you do that? I need you both to stay alive.”

  Ben’s face turned red. “You still don’t trust me. You think I’m going to get Jack killed again.” His fists clenched

  She glanced at the door and back to Ben. “We don’t have time for this now. Promise me you’ll both stay safe and call me later.”

  “I promise. You’ll see.” Ben eyes were moist. “My cell’s broken, but I’ll find a way to call.”

  The doorbell rang again.

  “I’m coming. Just a minute,” she called, and then whispered to the boys. “Go now.” She shooed them toward the back door.

  The boys left and she hid her suitcase in the hall closet. Composing herself in the foyer mirror, she found her business smile and answered the front door.

  Chapter 36

  Patrick questioned CSD Agent Hostetler along the forest trail outside Carlston. Terra’s sun, now directly overhead, filtered through the tree canopy to where Hoss sat tied to a tree. After witnessing the burial of Agent Chandler, Hoss kept apologizing for treating Patrick so badly. He cried, begged, and answered Patrick’s questions.

  Hoss described how he and Chandler tried to capture Ben and Jack
at Patsy’s house. From Hoss’s description, the boys may have jumped into the Fuller house on Earth. Patrick’s shoulders relaxed and he felt proud of his grandson. Ben not only had a portal watch, but had learned how to use the technology on his own.

  Patrick crouched near Hoss. “Why did you bring me to Terra?”

  “At first you were bait for Albert.” Hoss said. “But later, we hoped Ben would try to find you. We wanted the portal watch.” Hoss wheezed. “Please let me go and I’ll help you.”

  Patrick adjusted his glasses. “How did your people travel back and forth to Earth?”

  “We confiscated Albert’s portal machinery and found your beacon signal.”

  Patrick prodded his captive. “Where’s Albert?”

  “On Earth.” Hoss coughed and spat. “Dr. Baum keeps him in a warehouse on the outskirts of Carmichael.”

  “Is he alive?”

  “Last time I saw him. Ohhhh, my head—” Hoss moaned as his eyes rolled back.

  Patrick shook him. “Why a warehouse? What are you tryin’ to do?”

  “It’s UniZol.” Hoss blinked. “They funded a Commonwealth operation to buy Earth’s computer, communication, and weapon technologies. The warehouse is our command post and a storage facility on Earth.” Hoss coughed again. “They want to duplicate your portal transceiver.”

  Patrick sneered. “You’re nothing but kidnappers and thieves.” If he let them duplicate his beacon, Earth would be vulnerable to attack. “What am I going to do with you?”

  “Remember. We let you go,” Hoss pleaded. “You have to let me go too.”

  “Bullshit. You and Chandler were plannin’ to bury me in the woods.”

  “We were only bluffing—”

  “Do you always drive around with a shovel in the trunk, or was today a special occasion?” Patrick didn’t trust Hoss. Not even a little bit.

  Leaning forward, he squeezed the agent’s large nose shut. When Hoss opened his mouth wide to breathe, Patrick stuffed the socks inside Hoss’s mouth rather than retying the gag.

  Patrick walked back to the car and sat in the driver’s seat. He fished out the silk pouch from Albert’s safe deposit box. Inside he found a folded note and a fancy watch with buttons, dials, switches and digital displays. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. If he could figure out how to use it, then he could go home. Though he turned one switch and then the other, nothing happened. The displays remained blank.

  He laid the watch on the car seat and unfolded the note written in pencil. Patrick, if you’ve received this message, which I have inked for you, it is only because I have died or disappeared. Be a good scout and help my wife. Patrick smiled. In their early discussions through the transceiver, it had rankled Albert that Patrick had made Eagle Scout nine months sooner.

  As a scout, Patrick had experimented with making disappearing inks using lemon juice, white wine, vinegar, and even apple juice. Any of these acidic drinks could be used to write a message on paper. Once dry, the message became invisible. The recipient need only apply heat to turn the acid in the paper brown, thus making the script reappear. Albert had bet on Patrick’s experience to be similar to his own, and left him a secret message.

  He used Chandler’s cigarette lighter to warm the back of the letter. The message appeared. Patrick, I’ve removed the power chip from the device as a precaution should CSD find it first. You’ll find what you need in a hidden compartment in the rafter above my basement furnace. You’ll find the house key under the blue pot on the deck. Patrick burned the note to ash.

  He needed to go to Carmichael, but what about Hoss? If he left him tied to the tree, maybe CSD would find him before the wolves, or bears did. Or, he could toss him tied and gagged into the trunk, leave the car at the train station in Carlston, and take the train to Carmichael. Later, he’d tell the local police where to find Hoss. Patrick refused to consider the alternative. He’d killed Chandler in self-defense, but wouldn’t murderer Hoss. Train station then.

  Walking back to the pine tree, he found Hoss with his chin down on his chest. He lifted the agent’s head, but he wasn’t breathing. Patrick pulled the sock out of Hoss’s mouth and found it covered in vomit. Feeling for a pulse, he found none and realized the agent died from asphyxiation.

  He untied Hoss quickly, cleared away the vomit, and used CPR, but nothing worked. Damn. Hoss wasn’t coming back. Nobody deserved to die like that.

  Patrick shook his head. Now that he’d killed two agents, he couldn’t blame CSD if they shot him on sight. He hoped he could travel to Carmichael before they found out.

  After dragging the body to the damp hole, he rolled Hoss in with Chandler. He covered the bodies with the sandy soil, placed flat rocks from the creek onto the grave, and said a prayer for their souls and his.

  Patrick washed his face and hands in the stream. He opened the suitcase, pulled out a change of clothes, and found a broken smartphone in a paper evidence pouch. He thought it odd because he hadn’t seen smartphones on Terra. He turned the phone over and saw a sticker -“Property of Ben Fuller, call 814-553-5338.” Good. Hoss may have told the truth, but what would the Commonwealth have done with this technology?

  He changed into clean clothes and buried the bloody garments. As he tossed the shovel into the trunk, a large owl took flight from a nearby cottonwood. Patrick drove the brown sedan out of the woods toward Carmichael.

  Ben and Jack snuck out the back door of Ben’s house in Carlston. He felt good to be back on Earth, but his eyes swept the back yard for FBI agents. Looks okay.

  Jack slowed when he saw a dead tree branch had impaled the hammock. “Balls up. That would have been a wicked way to die.”

  Ben grimaced. Last Saturday he’d lain in the same hammock and practically invited death. Did I really want to die? He shook his head and followed Jack over the fence. Ben had promised his mother to keep Jack safe. Keeping that promise, he hoped, might help him earn her respect.

  They followed the creek bed for three blocks as it wound through the neighborhood, and stopped under a small bridge where the water disappeared into an underground pipe. As they climbed to the street, two curious vultures circled high above.

  “Where to, Bro?” Jack said.

  “Lori’s house.” Ben said. “She’ll helps us. She might even let us borrow her car.”

  “Sounds good.” Jack’s face brightened. “I can’t wait to meet her.”

  When they reached Lori’s house, Ben knocked on the door while Jack waited out of sight. Lori’s mother told Ben he’d missed her by twenty minutes. She’d gone jogging to the reservoir. Ben thanked her. He and Jack trailed after Lori, keeping to the side roads to avoid being seen.

  A few miles farther, they turned left onto the old fire trail. Ben led the way. He smelled pine resin and listened to the wind rustle the treetops. A quarter mile up the trail, Lori ran down toward them wearing a green jogging suit and matching shoes. Though he couldn’t see her face, he recognized her running style. Graceful. Fluid. Constant. Signature Lori.

  When Ben waved to her, she accelerated, came to a stop just in front of him, and gave him a huge hug.

  “Benzo, you’re back!” He returned her embrace. She held onto his shoulders and stepped back a pace. “I tried to get in touch with you. Your dad said you’d gone missing. I was worried.”

  “I’m back.” He smiled at his doppel-brother, but Jack’s eyes seemed intense. Almost hungry.

  Lori glanced at Ben’s forehead. “You’re injured.”

  “Just bumped my head. I’m okay.” He shrugged.

  Lori let go of him. “Why didn’t you call me?”

  “Sorry, things got crazy and my phone broke. But, we’re back.”

  Lori turned toward Jack. “Hello,” she said. “I’m—” Her face went slack. “Oh my God. Jack?”

  Jack grinned. “Hello.” He offered to shake hands but she backed away.

  “But you . . . died.” Her face twisted. “How—”

  Jack’s smile faded. “No. Sorry
. I’m not that Jack.” He turned to Ben anxious for help.

  Lori looked ill.

  Ben grimaced. “We came looking for you because we need your help.” Shit. As her best friend, he felt responsible for her pain and confusion as much as he felt responsible for Jack’s death. The cold grip of sadness rose to embrace him like a dark faerie from a deep well. No. I’m on a mission. He pushed away the blue funk, rather than let it engulf him. Keep breathin’.

  “Okay. Wait a minute.” She held her palms up in front. Her eyes moved from him, to Jack, and back. “You have to explain— him.” She pointed at Jack. “Tell me everything.”

  “Everything?” Jack raised his eyebrows at Ben.

  Ben nodded. “I trust her with my life.” He faced her bright blue eyes. “Okay. This may take a while.”

  Her eyebrows rose. “I’ll make time for this story.” Turning, she found a flat tree stump to her right and sat down. She took a quick breath, composed herself, and studied them as if she held court. “Go ahead.”

  Ben and Jack shook off their backpacks, sat down, and told her everything from Albert showing up for Sunday dinner to their recent exit from the Fuller residence. She asked about Terra, her doppelganger, and to see the portal watch.

  Lori asked what kind of help they needed and they told her. Afterward, she nodded and slid down from the stump. Dry sticks crunched beneath her feet.

  Ben rose and his legs felt numb. Jack stood beside him.

  Lori drew a breath. “Wow. Hard to believe, but . . . here you are. I’m all in.”

  “Good,” Ben said. “Thank you.” He knew she’d help.

  “Couple more questions. So, we can’t trust the FBI?”

  “Not with this. Not yet. We need to find our grandfathers first and get them home. That means we need a live beacon and the portal watch. If the FBI shut down the beacon, they may be working against us.”

  She held up her hand “Okay. I get it. But we’ll need Brandon to go with us.”