by Jill Cooper
We bank off the curb and in the rear-view mirror the van fishtails as it chases us. I gasp for breath, my heart beating so fast I can barely control either. Air is caught in my throat; my vision splits, I don’t know if I’m about to jump back in time or freeze everything, but instead pain builds in my head.
I groan and grab it.
“Lara!” Donovan calls and the sedan comes to a sudden stop.
Lurching forward, I squeal as the seatbelt tightens. The pain in my head starts to dissipate and when I look up, I see the street is blocked by a giant semi-truck trying to back up into a small back alley to deliver his morning supplies.
I glance over my shoulder. The van’s approaching.
“Don?” The truck is never going to get out of the way in time.
He stops the car and pulls out the keys. He doesn’t need to say anything. We both unbuckle our seat restraints. I grab my duffle bag from the back and we bolt from the car. Donovan extends his hand to me. Taking it, my legs pump and threaten to take me past him, I was once a sprinter in high school, but I haven’t had to run like this in a long time.
We round the corner and behind us, the men follow. “Catch up to them!”
Donovan and I bank across a car and turn down a side street. There’s no time to catch our breath or discuss where we’re going. We just have to keep running. Dumping into a back alley, we charge through a puddle, our feet pounding the pavement, as a gun fires.
I scream and we duck our heads. We spit out into a busy intersection and there are pedestrians waiting at a light to cross the street. I don’t think Patricia’s goons will care if people get hurt. We need to find a way out of there and fast.
We duck against a wall and my eyes gaze across the cityscape. Finally, I see a giant T hanging beside a building.
The subway.
I point at it as I’m still gulping for air. Donovan’s eyes train on it and he nods. “Let’s go,” he husks out, he re-takes my hand and we run for the subway steps. A flock of pigeons fly up as gunfire renews. Pedestrians scream and some dive for the ground as our feet meet the steps. We slide down the railing into the dark underbelly of the city. The smell of diesel engines surrounds us and I hear a familiar call.
“Hot popcorn. Peanuts.”
Donovan’s face is red with exertion and the sound of feet slamming the steps comes from behind us.
“Hey someone, stop those kids!”
There’s no time to buy a token or a Charlie card. Off in the distance, I hear the rumble of a train. Donovan nods at me and we jump the turntable. Up ahead the train is pulling in and behind us, the goons are closing in fast. The T-attendant screams at us. “Come back here, you need to pay!”
But we can’t stop. We can’t slow down.
The subway’s doors slide open and people shuffle off. Donovan and I push through the crowd and force our way into the car. Hand in hand, we move deeper into the subway and have to pray the thugs won’t make it on.
The doors slide shut and the people who have just stepped on glare at us. They think we’re just a pair of punk kids, not realizing the danger we’re in. Through the glass I see the goons come to a sliding stop. They’re angry, their lips are drawn together tight, brows furrowed, and the blood lust in their eyes makes my knees quake.
Donovan holds on to the metal bar as the train lurches forward. I sigh, expelling a deep breath and fall against his chest, the duffle bag firm in my hand. We came close, real close to meeting our end. I came close to being under Patricia’s control and that was something I swore would never happen again. I was sloppy. It was a messy escape.
I have to be more careful.
My boyfriend’s arms go tight around me and he rests his head against mine. For now, I am comforted and warm. Protected. But how long can that last?
“Where are we going to go?” Donovan asks.
I don’t answer because I don’t know. Where is there that’s safe? Where is there we can lay low for the night before we end up putting Patricia in a spotlight that she doesn’t want?
Chapter Eighteen
Turns out, what is safe is a rundown dive hotel in Quincy, off of the redline. It’s one of those places you can rent by the hour. We use the leftover cash in my duffle bag to secure a room until the next morning. I slip the sleazy attendant with the greasy comb-over hair a few extra twenty-dollar bills to turn anyone away who might come looking for us.
He thinks I’m talking about our parents, but what I’m talking about is worse. Much worse. Trigger happy thugs?
No thanks.
We settle into the room and draw the mismatched curtains closed. The bed is not much better and I don’t want to think about what kind of fluids might be staining the bed sheets. In the corner is an old picture tube television that I’m surprised still works and on the nightstand is a bible.
We’re going to need all the help we can get.
I freshen up in the bathroom. The sink is cracked and the faucet squeaks. In the corner by the brown stained tub, a cockroach scurries by. This is so low class it even makes me feel uncomfortable. I can’t imagine how it affects Donovan. When I return to the room, he is fiddling with the television knob. “Doesn’t work.” The look on his face is meek and I guess I can understand why, but part of me is desperate to just be held by him. I don’t want to go through any of this and what is coming next.
So I stand in front of him and twist on my arches, I chew the inside of my lip because I’m not sure what I should do or say. Freezing time is hard for me to accept and now he’s been thrust into all of it. Chased by thugs that his mother sent. How can I ask him to keep going with me when I am on the verge of ruining everything he holds dear, everything he knows?
It’s crazy.
“So, time travel, huh?” Donovan asks and the familiarity of what he says causes my skin to crawl. He said that once to me in the virtual world and here we are, going through it all again. Except now the stakes are higher.
“It’s a lot to accept, but yeah. I … went back to save my mom from being murdered. It worked, but it set off this whole other thing where she never left Rewind.” My tone drops. “Your mother is power hungry. She wants to shape things and put herself at the top of the food chain.”
“She’s always been ambitious. I knew that.” Donovan raises his eyebrows. “But the mafia, hired guns? I have to admit that surprises me.”
“I’m sorry. I know what just happened…” I shake my head and Donovan reaches for me, he caresses my cheek and in an instant it’s like all isn’t lost.
“Why not wish it all away? Go back further and stop all of this before it even started?” His eyes are filled with curiosity and deep concern.
“Because”—I shrug—“then I might lose you. And I can’t lose you, Don. There wouldn’t be anything left of me.”
His face crumples and he pulls me in, kisses my forehead. We stand in that crummy, old, stained room. Only God knows what people have done here, but the warmness and the love that emanates from us is enough to cleanse it of any sorrow and pain. I love being with him. He’s worth everything I’ve gone through.
I think about the doubts I have had, that Donovan won’t be with me until the bitter end. How I’ve been so scared I’d misjudged him, that I almost didn’t trust him. Now, his actions over the last several hours have only strengthened what I feel for him and proven I didn’t just dream up he was a good, solid guy. He really is those things.
I’m so relieved I’ve been given this chance.
I have to seize it.
“Do you think my father knows?” Donovan asks and I can see pain forming in his eyes.
“I don’t think so. I’ve never seen proof he does or doesn’t. Maybe he suspects, but never asked any questions.”
His jaw bone tenses. “Not acceptable.” For a moment he turns away and gazes toward the window.
I touch his fingers lightly with my own. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you everything before. But I’m ready to tell you everything now.”
“Don—”
He puts a finger to my lips. “Montgomery, it doesn’t matter to me how many times you’ve time traveled or how many times we’ve tried to fix this. All that matters to me is that we do. We stick to the plan, we go through with it tonight. And when we are finally able to put all the pieces together, maybe then we can talk about it.”
I close my eyes and nod. Part of me wants to tell him about the virtual world. About how close I came to giving up on the world, but another part of me is so ashamed. I think if I admit those words out loud, I might crumble into a million pieces.
And the king’s men may never put Humpty Dumpty back together again.
“Everything we’ve just been through, I might never finish processing.” Donovan sighs. “But I’m with you, Lara. And if my mother’s goal is to kill you, hurt you in any way, then we’ll do what we have to. No one messes with my girl.”
Tears fill my eyes but, for the first time in the last two years, they’re happy. Donovan kisses me and we reach for each other for comfort and solace. We cling to each other, we hold one another and I feel like everything is going to be fine.
It’s a dangerous feeling. One I haven’t had in a long time.
“Well, we can’t stand here forever. One of us might have to risk actually sitting down on this bed,” Donovan says.
I chuckle. “I know you’re used to much more than this.”
“And if it was built on lies and evil? I’d rather be here with you,” Donovan says.
His words warm me and I smile. I glance at the clock.
Six hours left.
****
We spend the time sitting on the rug playing cards, thanks to the deck we found in the dresser drawer. He teaches me to play poker and when I clean his clock, he realizes I already knew the game.
“I’m sorry,” I laugh and cover my mouth. “I couldn’t help myself.”
Donovan pulls me close and I straddle his lap, my knees bent. “Where did you learn to play poker like that?”
“My dad taught me,” I admit and my breath calms. I think back to those days in our apartment, when his friends would come over for a late-night game. Dad always called me his good-luck charm, but now, none of that happened. For me, it’s a distant memory, smoke, and fog, of something that never occurred.
No one but me will ever know what a gentle giant he was. A big, burly man, raising a daughter on minimum wage jobs. How his big, tough fingers learned to braid hair because I cried when other girls came to school wearing them.
Mine were messy and never straight, but I was still happy to wear them.
He’s still my dad, but in this time I barely know him. He barely knows me, but I hope soon, one day, that can be different.
“Your dad … before you saved your mom?” Donovan asks.
I nod, but it’s slight.
He sighs. “That’s heavy stuff. And you changed everything and, suddenly, what, you wake up to Jax being your step-dad?”
“Actually”—I tuck my arms under his and cuddle against his chest—“I woke up to you. In a classroom. Remember? I had a headache and you took me home in your now abandoned sports car.”
Donovan thinks hard. “That was less than a week ago.”
“For you,” I admit. “For me … it’s been much longer.”
His eyes crinkle. “Do you remember any of it before that?” His face is so hopeful, I know he’s really asking if I remember falling in love with him.
“Little bits here and there trickled in at first. Lara did a lot of things before I jumped into her, thanks to the time travel. I couldn’t remember Jax being my step-dad, or dating you. But over time, I merged with her. It was painful and hard. But I remember it all now. I remember what I did here, and what I did before the time travel.”
“That must be hard.” Donovan’s face is solemn and I’m glad he is being so mature about everything. I don’t know if I could be if our situations were reversed. “Did you … have a boyfriend before?”
I nod. “It was … Rick.” I watch his face fall. “I never got out of that apartment building, Don. I grew up there. With him as my friend. But here, he’s different. He—” my face flickers with pain “—he isn’t the same guy I knew .”
Donovan nods and for a few moments he is silent. “And you and I?”
“We were never friends,” I admit softly and watch the news sink in. “My dad avoided Rewind after Mom died. We saw each other at school, but … well, let’s just say we didn’t travel in the same circles.”
He looks down beaten. “Then I guess I really am a fool. I’m sorry, Lar.”
“I’m not.” I edge in closer to him. “Being here with you, at first I thought it was the most horrible thing that had ever happened to me.”
“Gee, thanks.” Donovan scowls.
“But I realize it’s the most wonderful thing that’s ever happened to me. Like we’re meant to be.” My lips toy with his and his hands rest on my hips. The kiss is gentle and sweet. I want to make him feel what I feel, how perfect our union is and it’s not something built on high school. It’s built on a stronger foundation than that.
One that’s meant to last.
Outside, floorboards squeak and it draws both of our attention in an instant. I hold my breath as I stand up and tiptoe over to the door. Peering through the peek hole at first I don’t see anything. Then the rim of a hat comes into view and I make out the end of a floppy mustache. It’s them. They’re here.
I tuck back against the door as if they can see us. My eyes wide with fright, I don’t need to tell Donovan what I saw. Quietly, he packs up the duffle bag. Rushing over to the window, my hand pulls the curtain back and I check out the street.
The van is idling down by the curb and there are two men watching the street.
We’re boxed in and my chest tightens with anxiety. We’re so close to the finish line, but these guys just won’t give us any breathing room. What’re we going to do? If I was by myself the answer would be easy. I would use time travel to skirt the goons, but with Donovan here I’m afraid whatever I do might get him in trouble.
If only time travelers came with a passenger system.
I search for an answer I can’t find and then I gaze into Donovan’s eyes. Whatever we are going to do, we are going to do it together. His face is like my muse, it spurs on ideas and hope.
“You stay here.”
Donovan’s eyebrows pinch together. “Stay here? I’m going with you.”
“Where I’m going, you can’t travel. Trust me. I’ll be back in a blink of an eye.” I shrug. “Or two.”
I turn to move away and Donovan grabs my arm. He pulls me in and kisses me tenderly, stroking back my hair. I can feel his urgent need for me to stay, but I urgently need to go.
“Wish me luck,” I whisper and then, in an instant, I’m gone.
In my mind, I see the front of the motel, with its dingy exterior and cracking paint. I turn my back to it; the spot where the van was is now empty. I position myself across the street and sit on the front steps. I’m not hidden. I’m right out in the middle of everything.
I want them to see me. I want to pull them as far away from the hotel as I can.
But to time travel while running for my life? I’ve never done it in real life, only in simulations inside virtual reality. I don’t know if I really can, but it’s our only shot.
Sitting on the steps, I tear into my fingernail and then I see the van rounding the corner. It stops in front of the hotel and I leap to my feet. “Hey!” I pick up a pebble off the steps and throw it.
It bounces off the van and rolls into the street. Heads inside the van whip towards me.
I walk down, pausing while my legs are straddling two steps. “You want me? Come and get me.”
The engine cuts as the doors to the van open. I jump down the steps and my legs n
early give way to the pressure of the pavement, but I don’t run yet. I wait to make sure they’re all getting out of the van.
When it’s clear they are coming for me, I take off and they pursue. I glance back as I run and nearly slam right into an old lady. “Sorry.” I cringe and grab her shoulders. She mutters something about ‘teenagers’ as I hurry past.
Traffic is speeding along and I know if I dive through the cars, I could get away, but getting away isn’t really my plan. At least not yet.
So I turn the corner, into an alley. I don’t run as fast as I can, but I give myself a lead, basically buying myself more time in the future. Or is that the past? I can’t even keep it straight anymore.
I exit the alley, my feet charging. I’m in a dead end.
Frantic, I run up a set of stairs and try a door. When that doesn’t work, I jump up, and catching a fire escape, shimmy my way up.
My arms are shaking as I attempt to pull myself up onto the roof. Something grabs at my ankle. I glance back and see the goon with the mustache. He’s snarling as his hand wraps around my joint. Screaming, I kick him in the face and then continue to pull myself up.
A big, flat roof, but I see an exit.
Hopefully, the door will be open.
I run to it and, when gun shots go off, I tuck and roll to safety. Squatting down low, I pull the door open and tumble down the stairs. My shoulder crunches and the pain blinds me. Talk about a bad exit strategy.
I crawl away and behind me, I hear the quick footsteps of my pursuers. I’m out of breath and out of time. I glance at my watch and see it’s taken less than ten minutes for them to catch me.
Two hands seize my shoulders and two take my legs. My back arches and I scream, my head shaking left and right as I try to pull away. I have to at least look like I’m putting up a struggle and my fight or flight response is strong.
