Red: What do you do when the rules cannot help you? (Rule Number 3)

by Teya Tapler

  Rule # 3

  Book 3

  RED

  What do you do when the rules cannot help you?

  By Teya Tapler

  Rule Number 3 Series

  Book 3 - Red

  Copyright 2015 © Teya Tapler

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form by any electronic or mechanical means including photocopying, recording or information storage and retrieval without permission in writing from the author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  To my family for all their help and support.

  Time Traveling Association Employee Code of Conduct *

  Do not change the past!

  Do not leave technology traces behind!

  Do not engage in emotional relationships with the locals!

  Do not bring any weapons with you!

  Do keep a low profile and stay invisible!

  * If you have any questions, talk to your manager.

  What do you do when the rules cannot help you?

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 1

  When the blue haze started Evan closed her eyes. The last time she traveled via transcast through time and space was to save Zander’s life and then she was more worried they won’t reach their destination on time than thinking about what could go wrong during or after the transmission. It was different now. No one told her that could happen and she didn’t know what to expect. She was uncertain whether that was a side effect of the pearls shining in her hands. All she was asked to do was pick up the pearls one by one and stack them on the transcast base. She had seen them glow in her presence before, years ago, when her father discovered the last pearl from the set, but then it was just a glow not a bright light like that time.

  There were many unanswered questions and many scenarios involving her destination and landing and yet Evan thought about all of them during her short travel. Her thoughts scrambled as her mind filled with vivid images of her not surviving the voyage or getting hurt in various ways on arrival.

  The transcast travel did not take long and a few seconds later Evan found herself in somebody’s living room. The owner seemed to be moving in or moving out. There were piles of boxed and the little furniture in the room was covered with thick and very wide throws or wrapped in plastic safely secured with tape.

  Evan felt cold and hugged herself trying to keep the little heat left. Her eyes darted around looking for a radiator or a temperature control. Dressed in a t-shirt, jeans and flats she was too underdressed for the temperature in the room. The thermostat on the wall read 40 F and was encased in a securely locked box. The apartment was cold as a warm winter day and obviously the owner wanted it to remain that way. Instinctively Evan’s hands grabbed the cover from one of the sofas and quickly wrapped it around her. It revealed a red leather three-person sofa. The design reminded her of the furniture she had seen in the Mort’s residence. Three years had passed and she was still seeing Zull and Kevin Mort, behind every corner, trying to kidnap her again. Evan tossed her head to lose the gnarly thought and headed to the window.

  Her eyes wandered outside.

  She was in New York.

  It was snowing.

  The park straight ahead had an ice rink. It looked like the Madison Square Park she had seen but there was something different. Something in the light posts and the benches wasn’t right. There was something weird in the way the people were dressed and the shapes of the cars were funny. It could have been due to the height of her location or her distance from the objects. Evan was to attribute that to the side effects of the transcast travel when she realized that the objects were not distorted: they were old-fashioned…as if she was in the 70’s.

  Evan gasped. It was too much for her already. She was an ordinary 21st century girl learning her way in the 25th century, trying to help with the destruction of the set of pearls her father had found during his archeological expeditions when that happened.

  Her knees felt week and a cry came up to her throat but didn’t go out. The reality of her unknown surroundings hit her and she bit her tongue.

  How do the others cope with this? She wondered thinking about her friends. How do they go back in time? How… She remembered that Emil, Peter, Mary and Zander worked as a group and had transcaster guns with them. Her friends never embarked on a time travelling mission alone or without preparation.

  Her lower lip trembled.

  Evan wrapped herself in the throw tighter and started investigating her surroundings. There were too many boxes in the room, all taped and numbered. The feeling that there might be a box with her name on top nagged at her and she moved from box to box, reading the labels. The numbers were obviously sequential but not all boxes from the sequence were there. Not seeing her name anywhere she moved to the next room. It was a dining room with a long table for about a dozen people, with big and heavy chairs around it. There were two pictures facing each other on the walls. One of them showed a man with a fiery-red hair and piercing gray eyes. The other was… a portrait of Zull Mort posing with the five pearls. His bright ginger hair glowing as if set on fire.

  Evan froze. Her lower lip trembled once more. The warmth of the furniture throw around her shoulders wasn’t enough. She was an ice statue with eyes fixated on the portrait, her mind bringing the unpleasant memories to live. If Mort saw her at that moment, he would definitely recognize her as the one who broke his wrist and aided his capture three years ago. Mort would be furious and he would…

  Her heartbeat accelerated. Evan couldn’t continue. She only knew that the consequences would be dire. Unless …

  She took a deep breath, Mort was not the one occupying the apartment.

  Hope sprung in. Thinking that the name of the owner and the inhabitants would be on the front door Evan headed in the direction of where she thought that should be.

  It took her some time to maneuver through the labyrinth of corridors and rooms: walking slowly, stopping every now and then to look back, and trying to remember her way in case she had to return. Methodically, she opened each door along the way and then after seeing a storage space or pile of furniture quickly closed it back. After half an hour instead of the front door she found an elevator door. It wasn’t possible for her to see whose name was on that front door.

  Her stomach churned. Mort must own the whole floor. Her heartbeat increased. She felt trapped and got frightened. Calling the elevator and leaving the place didn’t seem right. Staying there didn’t make sense either.

  She could run away. That was an option. But where would she go. It was the 70s. and her parents were either still living with their parents or in college. No one would recognize her as she hadn’t been born yet, but even if she wanted she couldn’t get to her relatives. She had no money, nor did she have any appropriate skill that would help her obtain them: computers were not so wide spread those
days and her knowledge in data warehouses was obsolete. Her only option was to sing or dance at the metro stations. Evan closed her eyes for a second imagining the cold wind running up her short sleeves and the indifferent looks of the passersby. The thought of dying on the street wiped the latest idea from her mind replacing it with a picture of her lying on the table in the city morgue. Startled she abruptly opened her eyes and gasped for air. Running away didn’t seem a good option.

  She weighted once more her chances of survival in the apartment after Mort’s return or outside in the wintery and snow covered New York and decided to stay.

  Evan carefully retracted her steps to the room with the furniture. The way back took her longer. Afraid that Mort could return before her finding a safe place made her stop every now and then to look over her shoulder. Once back in the room with the red sofa, she pushed one of the armchairs closer to the window, wrapped herself with yet another one of the furniture covers and focused on the view.

  “We’ll bring you back. Don’t worry.” Sounded in her head. The sound was muffled and the voice was quiet but she did distinguish the words and recognized the voice. It was Emil, assuring her that they will bring her back and that she shouldn’t worry.

  Outside the snow was falling. The snowflakes danced around, touching hands with other snowflakes before making their final trip to the ground. Watching their quiet and rhythmical movements she slowly fell asleep.

  ***

  Two male voices woke her up. Evan opened her eyes and saw Zull Mort and the red-haired man from the other portrait sitting on the sofa in front of her. They had turned her armchair to face them.

  “Good morning,” the red-haired man revealed a crocodile like smile.

  “Who told you that we’re here?” Mort wasn’t that friendly. He got up and moved closer to her. ”What d’you want?” The red-haired man tried to pull him back to the sofa, but Mort pushed his hand and his voice rose higher and higher with every question. “How d’you get in? Who’re you?” he almost screamed the last question his face gradually turning red.

  Evan felt Mort’s anger filling up the room. Her heartbeat accelerated and melted the calm from the sleep. She looked at the red-haired man to see if he would talk to her but to her disappointment his face was blank and expressionless. He was frozen like a white marble statue. Evan looked back at Mort. The threat from him was not that imminent last night when he wasn’t around. She had forgotten how big, tall and intimidating he was. Instinctively Evan lowered her head. Sitting in the armchair she felt like a tiny mouse destined to be eaten by a predator because it had dared to peek outside its hole.

  “Who’re you?” Mort shouted the question again, his face as red as the other person’s hair.

  He doesn’t recognize me. Evan thought still too frightened to answer. Probably he doesn’t remember me. Her heartbeat became faster.

  “Who’re you?” Mort shouted the question again coming closer to her, his right hand raised ready to hit her face.

  “I…” Evan started hoping that he won’t hit her if she showed her intention to collaborate. Her mind furiously searched for an answer. He doesn’t know who I am. He might have not seen me or my father yet. Evan thought and then said quietly,”I’m Lin,” giving herself the name Zander’s father used to call her. She felt her heart beating in her throat. She couldn’t tell a lie.

  “Who’re you?” Mort didn’t hear her.

  ”I’m Lin.” Evan shouted back letting all the negative energy out.

  Mort froze, his hand in mid-air, his mouth opened to ask once more who she was.

  ”I am Lin.” Evan repeated in a normal voice then trying to look as innocent as possible she added, “Who are you?”

  The two men glanced at each other and gestured something she didn’t understand. Then the red-haired one asked.

  “D’you recognize me from your past?” his voice was quiet and the hissing tones in it were clearly audible. The crocodile smile was gone.

  “No,” Evan replied quickly.

  “Nice,” the red-haired man said. ”And d’you know who he is?” he asked her pointing towards Mort.

  “No,” Evan tried to sound the same way as when she answered the previous question.

  The red-haired man stood up and came closer to her, his long cape moved and swung as he approached her. She had never been a good liar and apparently she wasn’t successful that time either. He didn’t believe her.

  “D’you know who he is?” he repeated the question standing in front of her.

  Evan looked at him and then at Mort. The two men towered before her, looking down on her like predators at their prey. She wrapped herself in the furniture covers a little bit tighter. Her chances of survival were almost non-existing even if she decided to stick to her lie. With nothing to lose she decided to tell a bit of truth. Her heartbeat accelerated as she spoke.

  “Yes, I do know him. He’s Zull Mort,” she nodded towards Mort.

  The two men gasped and gestured her to wait while they left the room. She strained her ears to hear more from their agitated conversation in the corridor. Mort and the red-haired man kept their voices low and only bits and pieces came to her.

  “…you sure?” Mort was asking.

  “She might be…fugitive readers,” the other one was saying.”…after the riot…”

  “…will be nice….need that help…” Mort was agreeing.

  When they returned they sat on the sofa again and the red-haired one asked her calmly, “How d’you know him?” he said nodding towards Mort.

  Evan couldn’t go with the truth any more. Obviously that was Mort from the time before his visit to Hamptonville, Massachusetts, before the time when her father searched for the pearls. He wouldn’t know of her parents and her mentioning Zander or his friends wouldn’t be appropriate either.

  “I had a dream.” Evan said calmly looking straight into the cold gray eyes of the red-haired man. Once more it felt as if she was talking to a statue. His face and eyebrows were extremely white and his lips looked bloodless. His face was blank and expressionless. The only pinch of color was his fire-red hair.

  Her statement caught him by surprise. He flinched for a split second then quickly collected himself and asked her with a flat voice, “What d’your dream tell you, my dear reader?”

  Evan didn’t know what a reader was. For her a reader was anyone reading a book, a newspaper or a magazine. The way he had phrased the question made her think that the word reader had some kind of a mystical meaning and the prefix my dear might have been an indication of his respect - or his sarcasm. It was hard to tell which one. Unknowingly she had touched a special subject, likely to be important for him. She was too deep into her lies and paddling back wouldn’t do her any good. Her heart rate kept on rising as Evan decided to play along for as long as she could without endangering her family or friends. Remembering the portraits in the dining room she said, “That you’ll invent the pearls of destruction.”

  Mort’s face lost color, even his freckles disappeared. When the color returned Mort suddenly smiled, the same crocodile like smile, and looked towards the red-haired man.

  They must be brothers. Evan thought seeing the resemblance. The red-haired one must be the gang leader. What was his name? She tried to remember the story Zander had told her on their way to New York a few years ago.

  “What else d’you know about me?” Mort asked her. He was getting curios.

  Evan closed her eyes and pretended to be trying to remember. She was simply keeping the tension for a few more seconds before speaking again. If she was the mystical reader she had to behave appropriately. After a few minutes Evan opened her eyes and said slowly.

  “That you’ have a son, Kevin, with blonde hair and blue eyes.”

  “H-hm,” Mort seemed more interested. “What else?” he couldn’t resist asking and Evan saw his interest growing steadily.

  “You also have a brother,” she said slowly still looking at Mort. Her words had made an impact beca
use she heard the red-haired man move uneasy on his seat. “You both are very famous and powerful men, with impressive future,” Evan ended her tale, slowly pronouncing the carefully selected words, still looking only at Mort.

  Her vague statement, like the fortunetellers in the old movies, had hit another cord with the two men for Mort looked at the other one and said, “See Ranshen, I told you. My experiment will be successful pretty soon. We’ll be more powerful than we’d ever imagine.”

  Oh, I’m so far back in time. He hadn’t used the pearls successfully yet. The time Zander was talking about, the time when this gang is captured is still in the future. Evan’s thoughts resembled a Nascar race. She felt nauseous and a little bit dizzy. She had never been under so much pressure for such a long time.

  “I’d like you to become my assistant,” Mort said looking at her and then paused waiting for her reaction.

  Evan didn’t know what to do or what to say. She didn’t like the offered position, but it was more than she had expected in the beginning of the conversation. The only thing that came to mind was the thought that becoming his assistant might help her stay alive longer. She smiled shyly.

  Mort took that as her acceptance and continued, “You’ll stay here with us. We are still moving in, but one can always find a room for such a talented and beautiful reader.” He gave her the silly grin she had seen so many times on Kevin’s face.

  Evan felt safer than when they woke her up. Her heartbeat started to normalize. It seemed that her relationship with Mort that time was going to be different. Not better, considering his temper and frequent anger outbursts but different.

  “What d’you say your name was?” Ranshen asked her and Evan felt her stomach churn.

  “Lin, my name’s Lin,” Evan tried to hide her trembling. She was afraid from Mort but with him she knew what to expect. Ranshen on the other hand did not respond or react like Mort and Evan didn’t know anything about him. She was horrified by Ranshen.