Tumbling in Time

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by Denise L. Wyant




  Tumbling in Time

  Denise L. Wyant

  Tumbling in Time

  A Books to Go Now Publication

  Copyright © Denise L. Wyant 2012

  Books to Go Now

  For information on the cover illustration and design, contact [email protected]

  First eBook Edition –November 2012

  Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form without written permission from the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes.

  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to any person, living or dead, any place, events or occurrences, is purely coincidental. The characters and story lines are created from the author’s imagination and are used fictitiously.

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  Acknowledgement

  To Dawn and my writing friends:

  Thank you for your plentiful patience and your helpful

  feedback.

  Tumbling in Time

  The piercing wail of the tornado siren launched Tasha to the lone window in her dorm room. “It’s about time,” she cheered. Well, not that she would wish destruction and possible death upon her neighbors. Despite the interrupting flash of morbid thoughts she murmured, “Arikk, my fine wizard, you better get ready.”

  She yanked back the dingy lace curtain, forced open the old window, and stuck her head out to scan the sky. She spotted the ominous black cloud descending towards the ground like the bony fingers of a Halloween skeleton. Letting out a whoop, she clapped her hands before searching for her favorite lip gloss – the one that tasted like cinnamon and drove Arikk nuts. Not that he would ever admit it. Well, maybe not yet . . . She pushed aside the clutter on her dresser until she found the tube and swiped some on her pouty lips. Grabbing her well-worn rain jacket, she shoved the lip gloss in her pocket and bounded down the stairs, taking them two at a time. The door flew open as though it had taken a hit from a burly linebacker. Tasha never hesitated; she was a woman on a mission to get to her man.

  Tasha jerked to a halt when a male student caught the hood of her jacket as she raced toward the storm. “Ya need to get inside now! There’s a twister headed right for us!”

  Spinning away, she broke free from his grasp. Her legs carried her towards the developing funnel cloud. She said a fervent prayer there would be a touch down. As the cloud shifted toward the farm field on the west edge of campus, she altered her course to get ahead of the storm.

  The skies opened. The rain pounded down in sheets, stinging her face and drenching her clothes. Darn it! So much for the lip gloss! She swiped at her hair while continuing towards the well-formed twister. She yelled to the sky, “Arikk, I’m coming!” While she had traveled forward in time on numerous occasions via storms, she always held her breath until she saw her demon-destroying hottie wizard in the flesh. Tasha couldn’t explain the “hows” or the “whys” which enabled her travel; she was merely grateful it worked.

  Dime-sized hail pelted Tasha as she approached the twister. Her pace slowed as she encountered and dodged obstacles, leaping over trash cans and veering around miscellaneous debris. The warning siren faded, drowned out by the wind. Ducking under the farmer’s barbwire fence, she scrambled through the mud. Despite staying crouched, she was battered by flying debris. Not willing to risk serious injury, she found a ditch and curled into a ball. The roar of the wind grew until it was deafening. Her wish came true – she was airborne. Her body tumbled end over end, drawn further into the twister only to have a jagged piece of plywood torn from the farmer’s barn collide with her. She was powerless to deflect, let alone avoid, the strike. The board impacted the back of her head, knocking her unconscious.

  ****

  “I’m getting too old for this!” Arikk huffed before sprinting from the latest batch of Riishanuap demons.

  He scrambled over piles of rusted metal, trying to put distance between himself and the purple horde so he could cast his portal and flash to safety.

  “I’m a master wizard with all kinds of special abilities. Why, oh why, couldn’t one of them be casting portals at the snap of my fingers?” he managed to grumble despite his heaving breaths.

  Luck was on his side as he squeezed into an old piece of ductwork. It turned out to be a tunnel, which led to a mechanical crawl space. Arikk scanned the room; it was demon-free. Taking a closer look at his surroundings, he noticed two ways out – a door and a vent. Opting for the less obvious choice, he popped off the metal grate.

  The silence relieved his shattered nerves. He lowered his body through the grate and landed with the grace of a cat on the tile floor of a bathroom. Well, it didn’t look much like a bathroom, but the overpowering stench of sewage informed him otherwise. After he finished coughing and gagging, he started the chant to cast his portal. The air molecules rippled, creating a door-sized opening.

  “What the – could your timing be any worse?!” Arikk stomped his foot, looking more like a petulant three-year-old than a nearly three-hundred-year-old immortal. An unconscious woman jammed his escape portal. Mother, now is not the time to meddle in my love life! Besides, you of all people know the Peacekeepers don’t allow us to marry. He wasted no time yanking the woman out only to have the portal shimmer and then dissipate with a pop like a champagne bottle being uncorked. Did you hear me, mother? I’m in the middle of battle here. Of course, now his mother ignored his barbs. He didn’t doubt she would bother him at a more inconvenient time.

  Eyes the color of avocados slowly opened and stared at him through tangled copper hair. He felt a calmness overcome his battle fevered mind. Tasha. He watched as she struggled to her feet and brushed the dirt from her stretchy running pants. He knew what was coming next: Tasha in his arms.

  “Let me tell you, Sunshine, you picked a fine time to drop in. I’ve been trying to give those pesky Riishanuaps the slip.” He returned her embrace, taking a moment to bury his face in her hair. She always smelled like apple pie with a hint of cinnamon. Inhaling and expanding his lungs to their fullest, Arikk reveled in her intoxicating scent. He never tired of her visits; she was the sunshine in his depressing world. Placing a chaste kiss on the top of her head, he stepped back to survey their dismal surroundings.

  “You mean you haven’t used any of your wizard tricks to make those Riish – whatever demons go poof?” When he didn’t respond, she explained, “You know, vanish, disappear into thin air. What about that magical sword of yours, no good decapitations of late?”

  He could see Tasha studying his face. Did she notice the bags under his eyes? More than likely. They had been there for days. It had been weeks since he had at least eight hours of uninterrupted shut-eye. Arikk tried to relax the grim set of his jaw; Tasha was looking out for his well-being. However, too much evil existed in his world for him to be jovial and unconcerned. And to get a decent night’s sleep.

  His brain tingled as his mother opened their psychic connection. Please, mother, not now. You have the worst timing! I appreciate your sending Tasha to me, but I didn’t call her for a reason. He turned his back to Tasha so she wouldn’t see the emotions that would surely be playing across his face like the latest blockbuster movie. Chatting with his mother tended to make him look a bit demented.

  Yes, m
y son, you need to hear this. Tasha is worried about you. She won’t nag you about your health, but I certainly can. You look like you fight more than you eat or sleep. You are going to need her help to get through this.

  Arikk walked a couple of steps away from Tasha, while rolling his eyes at his mother’s lecture.

  Look, son, here’s my point: You have neglected to mention to Tasha that you are an immortal. She is worried about you and afraid that it wouldn’t be difficult to kill you in your current state.

  A warm hand squeezed his shoulder, interrupting his mother’s lecture. “Everything ok?”

  Relaxing his clenched fists, his brain felt empty, signaling his mother was leaving him alone for now. Arikk pasted a smile on his face. “Yes, everything is fine. Just a bit preoccupied.”

  Her smile was hesitant, but nonetheless warmed his very core. “Right. So, where are we this time and what’s the threat?”

  “We’re in what remains of San Diego – no longer the land of fun and sun. Specifically, the Convention Center constructed in the late 1980s.” Arikk pushed up his shirtsleeve, checking his wrist-mounted computer. “It’s June 40, 2113, at 44:23 and chaos rules.”

  “Wait just a minute, June now has 40 days? How many hours are there in a day?” Tasha shook her head. Arikk had no doubt that her human brain was having trouble comprehending this information.

  “It’s the new math. Don’t ask me why or how, I didn’t change it.”Arikk frowned. “The ruling class of demons, the Areilous, changed a lot of things when they took over.” He kicked a piece of brick across the debris-strewn floor. “Just look at this place. You’d never know it was once a popular tourist destination. It’s no wonder anyone who had any sense evacuated the city.”

  Tasha’s jaw dropped. Her arm shook as she pointed behind Arikk. “Why is there a pack of purple . . . things headed toward us?” Her voice rose as she continued, “They look like Barney on steroids after a serious gym workout. And they have fangs. What the . . .” Her voice trailed off as her eyes widened. Arikk equated the graceful hulking beasts to a demon ballet about to turn violent.

  Tasha froze in place, her mouth wide open. If Arikk had to guess, it was their fangs that scared her. The sight of all that pointiness was enough to give him pause, and he was a seasoned demon fighter.

  Arikk pivoted and crouched, unsheathing his sword with a flourish. The Knights of the Roundtable couldn’t hold a candle to his form. “Damn, the Riishanuap demons caught up with me. Time to move.”

  Ducking and weaving through twisted pieces of metal and concrete, Tasha led the way as the pair hurried to put space between them and the demons. She was forced to halt in the dead end remains of an elevator shaft.

  “Here. Catch.” Arikk tossed her a small silver gun that pulsed with blue energy. He hurriedly scouted a defensible position.

  “Wow! Does this tiny thing pack a punch?”

  Arikk shook his head at the excitement in Tasha’s voice. He knew how much she looked forward to his gadgets.

  Arikk pushed aside a piece of sheet metal. “A little punch. Unfortunately, it only paralyzes these guys. It doesn’t kill them. Oh, and their bite is fatal to humans.”

  He watched as Tasha caught the gun and moved into a fighting stance, lowering her center of gravity over the balls of her feet, which were spread shoulder-width apart. She kept the gun down at her side and stepped behind an iron beam, perched atop a thick piece of concrete.

  Arikk hurriedly stacked a couple of broken concrete blocks next to a rusted out water heater. Once he was settled, he glanced back over at Tasha. “Here’s our quick and dirty strategy. You stun, I kill. Got it?”

  Nodding her acknowledgement, Tasha targeted her first demon. She and Arikk fought seamlessly. They engaged in such a smooth lethal dance it was as though they’d fought together for several decades instead of just a year. Arikk wanted to give a fist pump and let out a whoop for how well she handled herself; however, there would be time for that when they neutralized the last of the Riishanuaps. He quickly got his head back in the game; Tasha succeeded in paralyzing the demons while he swiftly removed their heads, the only method to ensure this breed of demon stayed dead. After the last demon sank to the floor and breathed its last, Arikk turned to Tasha, whose chest heaved from the exertion.

  “Somebody’s been practicing.” Pride shone in his eyes. “What do you say? Enough fighting for one trip?”

  She answered by leaning in and brushing a kiss over his lips. “Now that I know what I’m doing, this is almost fun.” She laughed, scrunching up her nose. “You stink. Like rotten eggs buried in a bag of sweaty gym clothes. Next time you might want to avoid getting that dripping yellow stuff on your shirt.”

  “Ha, ha, aren’t you the funny one? Don’t touch that yellow stuff, Sunshine. Their bodily fluids will burn like acid and mar your porcelain skin.” He looked her over, under the premise of checking for injuries. He licked his lips, barely catching the taste of her lip stuff. You’re in a bad way, boy, addicted to Tasha’s taste. Although he had yet to admit it aloud, he found Tasha’s petite athletic build very becoming. “How’s the leg? Looks like you took a hit.”

  Tasha looked down to inspect the damage. “Huh, I don’t remember getting hit there, but anything is possible.” Given the concentration required for the battle, she likely tuned out the blood and the pain during the fight. He guessed she had yet to feel the effects of the injury even though it looked deep.

  “Let me take a closer look.” Arikk bent down and carefully pulled her shredded pants away from the gaping wound. He removed a dagger from his belt and cut off the remainder of her pant leg. Blood streamed down her thigh to her calf. The jagged cuts varied in depth; he prayed her femoral artery was still intact. He tied the now severed pant leg around her upper thigh, hoping pressure would slow the flow of blood.

  Tasha swayed and grabbed for Arikk’s shoulder. She rasped, “The throbbing in my leg is now pounding like a bass drum inside my head.”

  “Sunshine, this isn’t good. It looks like one of the demons caught you with his fangs.”Arikk’s eyes shone with concern.

  She tightened her grip on his shoulder. “So what does that mean?” Clearing her throat, she continued in a scratchy voice, “Arikk, what are you not telling me?”

  Frustration overtook him. He wanted to pull away from her to pulverize something – anything – for the hurt the blasted demons inflicted upon her. That wasn’t possible; she wobbled despite hanging onto him. He kicked out his booted foot and sent several sections of copper piping, scattering across the floor. He felt a little better but still needed to rein in his temper. Tasha’s injuries required him to be level-headed and thinking clearly. He met her eyes after taking a deep breath.

  “Come on, Sunshine, take a seat on the remains of this bench.” The warped metal wouldn’t win any comfort awards, but Arikk wanted her seated for this discussion. Besides, her normally flushed skin was fading to a pasty white. He knelt down in front of her, balancing on the balls of his feet. It nearly killed him, but he kept his eyes locked on hers.

  “The demon didn’t bite you; he tore your flesh.” He paused to gauge her reaction. She said nothing, but she now had a white knuckle grip on the edge of the bench.

  Arikk gracefully rose and began to pace. He ran a hand through his already disheveled hair. “The problem is your body’s contact with the demon’s saliva.” Don’t mince words. Tell her straight up; you know she can handle it. “Technically, you should be dead.”

  Tasha held up her hand before he could continue. “Ok, Mr. Rocket Scientist, I’m talking to you so obviously I’m not dead. I’m not a zombie either – just in case you needed the clarification.”

  Silly woman. She was trying to inject some humor into a desperate situation, but little did she know zombies do exist and the process to become one is frightening. Besides, he would neve
r let such a miserable fate befall her. A corner of his mouth lifted but didn’t quite make it to a grin. “How do you feel now?”

  “Other than the drum line performing a halftime show in my head and hundreds of needles jabbing me in my leg, peachy.” Tasha tried to roll her eyes but didn’t quite pull off the maneuver.

  “If you’re willing, I can fix both of those problems for you.”

  “What’s with the look? Are you going to turn me into a zombie to fix my leg?” She tried to smile, but it came out as a grimace.

  “Nope. No zombie status for you. As a member of the Peacekeepers, my blood has been enhanced with healing properties. If you allow me, I can heal your wound in a matter of minutes.” And heavens help him if the Peacekeepers found out. He wasn’t supposed to use his powers to heal a mere human. Damn the Peacekeepers and their stupid rules! Arikk was one of the higher ranking sentinels; he had proved himself and his dedication over and over. What would they do, fire me? Not likely. He was too well-connected and valued for his powers.

  Her eyes drifted shut. With a weak voice she said, “I trust you. Please do what you need to do. I can’t defend myself, let alone fight in this state.”

  “Don’t worry, Sunshine.” Arikk knew time was of the essence. He sliced open his wrist and quickly untied the makeshift bandage on her leg.

  Tasha hissed and then her body relaxed as Arikk’s blood made contact with hers.

  “Good girl. Just give it another minute, and you will be back to normal, non-zombie status. I promise.” He knew the joke was lame, but he wanted to see her crack a smile, anything to know that his blood was repairing the damage caused by the demon. Only one question remained, niggling in the back of his mind: would she suffer any long-term effects from her contact with the saliva?

  “Wow. That is so cool. No more drums in my head.” She flexed the foot of her wounded leg. “My leg feels almost good as new.” Tasha carefully stood and walked around, gingerly testing her newly-healed leg.

 

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