Leaving the door open, Anne stepped off the porch and started toward the side of the cabin. She stopped suddenly at the sound of something moving. She listened but heard nothing more. “Is that you, girls?” she called.
No answer.
She inched forward and peeked around the corner. No one. She had seen a raccoon around a couple times. Squirrels were always running about. And birds. Could have been a bird she scared up but didn’t see. What am I getting uptight about all of a sudden? She did feel apprehensive – very apprehensive. Why not? In just a few hours she was going to travel 44 years. She looked around. I wonder if this cabin will still be here? And the Thigpen house? She walked up to the pump and hung the bucket on the spout. When she stepped around to get a grip on the pump handle, she sensed someone. It was a quick motion just at the corner of her eye. She jerked her head but there was nothing. She could see part of the area in front and in back of the cabin, but all seemed quiet.
Elizabeth! Did someone go in? She moved away from the pump and took three steps toward the cabin when once again she sensed motion, this time behind. She swung around and managed only part of a scream before Bronson’s big hand closed over her mouth.
She used to wrestle with her father and though he could always get her pinned eventually, he would always be surprised by how quick and athletic she was. Quick of mind and quick of body.
Bronson also understood Anne’s quickness. This time he wore a cup. He turned her around, pulled one arm into a hammerlock and pressed her against the well pump. He was careful to keep his feet and shins away from her flailing feet. He slipped his hand from her mouth to her throat and began squeezing. When she passed out, he would bind her up and go get his car.
Her flailing slowed.
She relaxed.
It worked.
Chapter 60
Thursday/Friday ~ November 12, 1987/1943
“T minus fifty-eight minutes, gentlemen. Let’s go. Ensure all systems are in hot standby. Steven, I assume you are zero set.”
“Checked it three times, Jerry, plus once for each idiot who has asked me.”
“Can’t be too careful. After all, this is the trip-up that got us here to begin with.”
Steven double-checked for the fourth time and then headed for the conference room. Jerry waited until everyone was out and then pulled the door until he heard the lock engage.
In the conference room, James was handing out paper plates so everyone could select their favorite of the four large pizzas he brought in just five minutes before.
Jerry stepped in last. “Before everyone gets their faces stuffed with cheese, is there anything at all that anyone is uncomfortable with?”
There was a very long silence.
“Okay,” Jerry said. “Let’s ea...”
“Yeah,” Dr. Hair raised his voice from the back of the room. Every head turned toward him. “Where the hell’s the one with pineapple, black olives and jalapeños?”
“Get off of it,” Howard said. “That’s not pizza. That’s a nightmare.”
“Best damn pizza in Boston.”
“And that’s a damn good place for it.”
“Sorry, Dr. Hair. No such thing around here, at least not at the pizza joint I hit.”
Jerry looked between Robert Hair and Howard and then said, “Fifteen minutes and then we talk it through again.”
They all settled into their dinner and chitchat, which never left the professional level. They were all nervous, apprehensive.
This was it.
Except for the pizza, they all pretty much ignored James. He wasn’t important any more because instead of saying he was unable to tell of coming events, this time he said he didn’t know.
“My car broke down and I was late.” Only a partial lie, but what was the point in the truth? If she makes it, the truth would only needlessly upset Steven and her father. If she doesn’t show then he would find a way to tell them why.
James looked at the half-eaten piece of pizza on his plate and pushed it aside. He had no appetite. He did when he picked up the pizza. Now, it felt like someone had dropped ice cold steel balls into his stomach. He would have to find a way to tell them that she was gone, that if she doesn’t make it tonight it was over, that their follow-up contingency plans were for naught.
He dropped the plate in the trash and decided to go sit outside in the cool evening air. He wasn’t needed for the talk-through. His historical advice was no longer of use. From here on he was as blind as they.
He looked at his watch – 6:22. He was in the Desoto 44 years ago, on Highway 52, almost to the junction of Highway 176. Maybe it happened closer to 6:30. They were not as early as they wanted to be but early enough to say good-bye. Police business had held him up in the afternoon. When he got home, his mother was waiting – ready – pacing – and they left immediately.
6:30. It must have been about then when the Desoto quit. The lights went out and they coasted to a stop.
“Shit, James!”
James never heard his mother use that word before and at any other time it would have floored him. Now it only added to the franticness that was building inside him. He jerked open the door, retrieved and lit the lantern, and with his mother holding that, opened the hood. His eyes nervously darted from place to place.
“Well! What is it?”
“I don’t know.” He grabbed the lantern from her and held it close over the engine. He could see nothing wrong. But he also couldn’t focus, the urgency in his need to fix it fast blocked out his ability to see the obvious problem. He stepped back and slammed the hood. “We’re going to have to walk.”
“How far?”
“Two, two and a half miles.”
“Go! I’ll stay here. I won’t make it and it’s better if one of us be there.”
“But...”
“No buts.”
“I can’t leave you here alone.”
“Why not?”
James didn’t want to vocalize his fears for what might happen to her.
“Just go. Time’s-a-wastin’. Give her and Elizabeth Anne an extra big hug for me and tell them both how much I love them.”
He stared at her.
“Go! God damn it!”
He turned to go and then handed her the lantern. “There’s a full moon. I’ll be quicker without this.” He kissed her on the cheek. “Stay in the car.”
And then he started running.
In 44 years, James never forgot one single detail of that night, especially the fury at himself for not being able to run the distance, having to stop and walk – especially for not seeing the simple problem with the Desoto. The battery cable had come loose, but he didn’t see it, didn’t even think to check it. Just didn’t think, period. And then he ran his legs and lungs until they were burning. For a police officer he was way out of shape.
Lights.
James looked up from his feet where he sat on the steps leading up to the old navy barracks turned into a top-secret research lab. A black Suburban pulled into the gravel parking lot. Two women and three men emerged. Of the five, James immediately recognized one. After the events of 1943, he met up with Admiral Harris and his family again in 1946. After that he heard nothing of them until November of 1984. He was watching the national election returns and saw the winning tally in the U.S. Congressional race. Gracy Harris Keeton would be the next congresswoman from New York. It didn’t take long for him to confirm his suspicions that she was Admiral Harris’ youngest daughter.
James pushed himself to his feet. Of the others walking toward him from the Suburban, there was a man quite a few years younger, another man about 40, very distinguished, and an old couple, great shape but easily well into their seventies. There was something about the eyes of the old man – a hint of recognition. And then as quickly as he thought about it, it was gone. The congresswoman reached him first.
“Gracy Keeton,” James said, taking her hand.
“How are you, James? I’m surprised you recog
nized me.”
“You’re a congresswoman who makes the news.”
“Of course. I would like you to meet my associates, Senator Henry Johnston and Lieutenant Wilson Harris.”
James held the handshake with the lieutenant as his jaw went slack.
“Admiral Harris is my grandfather.”
“Yes! Good to meet you.” As James was trying to make sense of what was happening here, why the sudden appearance of these people, Gracy cleared it up.
“We are the board, James. We made this all possible, and we are just as anxious about tonight’s event as you and the other eight men inside. Like you, we have been waiting a very long time.”
“But how did you know? I never told anyone what happened that night.”
Lieutenant James cut in. “My grandfather knew enough.”
“I’m sorry, James,” Gracy said. “We are simply the board, the managers you might say of Broad Horizons where 100% of the funding comes from for this venture. I would like you to meet the CEO and President of the company, Samuelson Frick, and his wife Francine.”
“Wonderful to meet you, Officer Lamric,” Samuelson said.
Again James felt a flash of recognition, but as quickly it was again gone.
“Broad Horizons was put together many years ago just for this purpose – research and development of time travel. We have been steadfast only because, like you, we knew it would happen and on what dates it would happen, and who the players would be.”
James was speechless.
“I think, James, it would be a good idea if we went inside. Time is running short and Jerry, Steven, Dr. Hair and the rest will need a few minutes to absorb us into their midst. We are here strictly to observe this attempt to bring Anne home.”
Thomas Bradshaw stopped in the middle of his portion of the briefing – the talk-through – his head turned toward the conference room door. Jerry, whose back was to the door, twisted around in his chair.
“Congresswoman!” Jerry choked out, coming to his feet.
“Good to see you again, Jerry.”
“What!”
“I know, Jerry. We should have called first instead of dropping in unexpected. For the rest of you who only know me as a dark face at your interviews, or don’t know me at all as is the case with Dr. Hair, I’m Congresswoman Gracy Keeton. But since I’m not here on Congressional duties, let’s drop the congresswoman part. I’m acting chairman of the board, or chairwoman I should say, of Broad Horizons, the company for whom you are employed. Quick introductions are in order. Since we all already know you, the introductions will be one way. With me are the remainder of the board, Senator Henry Johnston and Lieutenant Wilson Harris. Again, let’s drop the titles. Call us Gracy, Henry and Wilson. In addition I would like you to meet the CEO and President of Broad Horizons, Samuelson Frick and his wife, Francine. Please call them Sam and Francine.”
There was a cold silence in the room.
Samuelson cleared his throat. “We built Broad Horizons for only one purpose. The same purpose toward which you’ve been striving for better than four years now, to reach this point tonight.”
“We are here to observe,” Gracy inserted, “to give witness to the event to take place in,” she looked at the clock, “twenty–eight minutes.” We know as much as you, as much as James here, as to what will happen tonight – maybe a little more. So, don’t think you have to explain or justify anything. We know it all. Just do what you were doing – continue with your talk-through in preparation for the retrieval of Anne Waring, Steven’s wife. We’ll be as unobtrusive as possible.”
With her speech and introductions completed, Gracy and the others filled the remaining seating encompassing the sofa and two overstuffed chairs.
Jerry looked at James who shrugged his shoulders. “Okay, gentlemen. Where were we?”
“I was... ah...” Thomas fumbled his papers until he sorted out where he was and then continued.
At 6:47 Jerry said, “Okay. Let’s do it,” and the table cleared as the scientists filed out and down the hall, the group from Broad Horizons behind them. In the lab Jerry hung his ear protection around his neck and then turned to tell Gracy Keeton he didn’t have protection for them. She was pulling hearing protection and goggles from a bulging leather briefcase and passing them out. She saw him looking at her.
“Just ignore us.”
Chapter 61
Friday ~ November 12, 1943
Anne kicked back and stomped down but couldn’t make contact. He had her throat and the more she fought the harder he squeezed. She would be no good to him dead so he was only trying to put her out. Let him think he was getting what he wanted. Relax. It wasn’t hard. Spots were starting to spin before her eyes. She relaxed some more and managed to suck some air past her constricted throat.
One hand was trapped but there was still something clutched in her other. She relaxed a little more and although he didn’t let up the grip on her neck, he eased his weight off of her. She saw more spots, tensed every muscle and then twisted and shoved the diaper loaded with fresh baby shit into his face. The shock caused him to inhale. She shoved harder and he staggered back taking his hand off her throat. She gasped for air and dropped to her knees. He let loose of her entirely, coughing and gagging. She crawled away, sucking in as much air as she could get, and then looked back, expecting to see him coming at her. Instead, he was bent over retching.
Anne came to her feet and in a staggering run, headed toward the path leading into the woods. She and the girls spent a lot of time walking and exploring the network of paths in this small patch of South Carolina woods. She knew them well. Just inside the trees she stopped and looked back, massaging her neck. He was straightening up, washing his face with water from the pump, and looking for her. Come on. I’m right here.
It was after Bronson ceased retching that he looked at what she had shoved into his face. He felt another lurch from his stomach and then went to the pump and started splashing the shit off. When he looked up and saw her standing inside the woods, not moving, not running, as though daring him to come after her, he felt his anger explode. He stepped toward her and she took off. He burst after her.
The only thing Anne was sure she had going for her was she knew the woods and he didn’t. She was mapping her route ahead as she went, envisioning the turns, considering the best place to drop from sight and let him run by. She glanced back briefly and was relieved he hadn’t gained any ground, but then neither had she.
A clearing broke and the path forked. The left went all the way to Monck’s Corner Road. The right bent north and had a number of intersecting paths, one of which would take her back to her own road. The woods also got thicker to the north. If she could hold her distance, she knew he would lose sight of her and she would have a chance.
The light was fading but not as fast as she wished it would. She wore a dark blue and gray dress but over it was the white sweater she slipped on when she went out to clean the diaper. Might as well be wearing a beacon. She pulled it off as she ran and balled it up. The next intersection was coming up, and with the twists and turns, and the increasing denseness she was certain he couldn’t see her anymore. The next intersection came, a crossroads in the woods. Without pausing, she flung the sweater as far up the path as she could and then turned onto the path leading back toward her road. The girls played this same trick on her once. They ran ahead and when she got to the intersection she didn’t know which way they went. She stood quietly listening until she heard a giggle. Ten yards up the path to the right was an old oak tree with a big bush at its base. The path had to veer around it and that’s where she found the girls, crouched and trying to stifle their laughter.
That’s also where Anne dropped herself. She crouched and leaned against the oak, certain that even if Bronson took this path he would run right on by without seeing her. She opened her mouth wide to breathe as deep and silently as possible and listened for him. He was quieter than she thought, and she would not have heard hi
m at all if he hadn’t stopped at the intersection. He was tired and breathing hard.
And then he was gone.
Certain he took the bait, she counted to ten and then took off again. Even if he got smart now and realized all he had to do was return to the cabin where Elizabeth awaited her mother’s return, he wouldn’t know the shortest route. He would have to retrace his steps and that was the long way. In a minute she was back on the road and sprinting her way to the cabin.
Bronson broke into a clearing and stopped. He looked and listened and then understood that she tricked him.
The sweater! That’s where she wanted him to go.
He returned to the intersection, taking his time to catch his breath and let go of his anger, because he knew it was his anger that allowed her to get away. Stop chasing and figure out where she will go.
Back to the cabin of course. Back to her child. Although the sun was well below the level of the trees, he could still discern which way was west. He put his back to the light and followed the eastbound path, jogging, feeling his strength returning. In a few minutes he stepped upon the road. There was the cabin, only a hundred yards away.
With a jacket on and Elizabeth Anne bundled in as dark a blanket as she had, Anne stepped out the door. She intended on crossing the road and then working her way down to the graveyard. It was still more than an hour before Steven would reach out for her, a half-hour before James and Ruth would arrive. She couldn’t stay in the cabin. But when she looked up the road toward where the Thigpen house stood back out of sight, about a quarter mile, she saw Bronson running toward her.
Time-Travel Duo Page 48
