Time Trap

by Danele J Rotharmel

  “What about Dan? Did Sam think we should tell him? After all, Dan’s the boss.”

  “A boss who is currently taking time off.” Peter took his keys from his pocket. “Dan pulled me aside tonight and thanked me for running the lab.”

  “That doesn’t mean he’ll appreciate being lied to.”

  “I know.” Peter bit his lip. “But, Laura, Dan’s at his breaking point. He has enough worries as it is. Sam agrees with our decision, and despite his misgivings, he’ll back our story. The only thing he asked was for us to recall at least one professional team to act as backup.”

  “That’d be fine if we weren’t in such a hurry.”

  “That’s what I explained.” Peter unlocked his car and looked at Laura. She was swaying on her feet. “Let’s get you home,” he said quietly.

  As he held her car door open, he noticed a stray curl tickling the back of her neck. He had an almost uncontrollable desire to wrap it around his finger. He looked away. Thoughts like that weren’t helpful, and they were definitely out of place at the moment.

  Streetlights flashed inside the car as Peter drove down deserted boulevards. The intermittent light shimmered on Laura’s face. He glanced at her profile and the long line of her neck. She was a lovely woman. As she yawned, he began to grin—she was also a sleepy one. He watched as her lashes drooped until they were resting like fringed butterflies on her cheeks. He bit back a laugh as she started to snore. Tenderness wrapped itself around his heart as he drove in silence. A few minutes later, he reached her house.

  “We’re here,” Peter said softly, shaking her shoulder.

  Laura opened her eyes, still fuzzy with sleep, and smiled at him. Leaning forward, she lightly kissed his cheek. It was the first time her lips had touched him, and they were delightfully soft. His heart began to pound as she rubbed her forehead against his shoulder and said with a sleepy smile, “Thanks for the ride.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  May 27th, 6:45 a.m.

  Hawking Hall, Washington D.C.

  Crystal stumbled out of the lab and weaved down the hall as a series of yawns threatened to dislocate her jaw. She couldn’t believe they’d managed to calibrate the cartridge on time.

  “Sleep well, Cris,” Zeke called behind her. “You deserve it!”

  She looked over her shoulder and gave a sleepy wave. “Are you headed home too?”

  Zeke shook his head. “Don’t have time. Peter and Laura will be here soon. I’m gonna sack out in the faculty lounge until they arrive.” He paused. “Don’t forget to observe emergency protocol. What we’re facing is probably nothing, but it shouldn’t be discussed outside the lab.”

  “Sure.” She yawned. “If you need me again, just give me a ring.”

  “I have you on speed dial, and my finger’s on the button.”

  Crystal made a face. “For the sake of our friendship, wait a bit first. I’m dying to grab some z’s, and I may have trouble maintaining my sunny disposition if I don’t get them.”

  “Thanks for the warning.” Zeke laughed. “I’ll be sure not to call for at least ten minutes.”

  Chuckling, Crystal descended the staircase leading to the lobby. Midway down, she paused. There were intermittent scratches on the marble steps. Squatting, she ran her finger over one of the groves. She yawned and shook her head. The scratches were a mystery for another day. Right now, she seriously needed some sleep.

  Almost in a daze, she walked to her car and started the engine. As she reached for the radio, a soft voice deep inside her spirit said, “Call Marc. Tell him you forgive him.”

  Crystal paused. She knew she was hearing the Lord. The voice came again, “Ask him to forgive you for holding a grudge.”

  Making an impatient sound, Crystal flipped on the radio. Turning up the volume, she began singing at the top of her lungs. She loved the Lord, but there were some things that weren’t fair of Him to ask.

  * * *

  Peter pulled into Laura’s driveway as the bright morning sun slowly climbed. She met him at the door carrying a bedroll and one tiny bag. “That’s it?” he asked in astonishment.

  “What else would there be?”

  Picking up her suitcase, he laughed. “This is totally embarrassing. My suitcase is twice as large as yours and three times as heavy. You’re a marvel!”

  “Tell me that when we know I haven’t forgotten anything. When I packed last night, I was practically in a coma.”

  “Have you made arrangements for Polka Dot?”

  Laura nodded. “I dropped her off at Mrs. Fillps’s a few minutes ago.” She paused. “Mrs. Fillps was acting awfully strange. She kept winking at me, and she made me promise to bring her a slice of my cake.”

  “What’d she mean by that?”

  “I have no idea. I baked an apple kiss-me cake for her birthday. Maybe she was hinting she wanted another. When I get home, I’ll bake her one.”

  Peter popped the trunk and stowed Laura’s suitcase. “Did you stop your mail?”

  She nodded. “I also cleaned out my fridge and turned off my coffee pot.”

  “In that case, Miss Marvel, let’s head to the lab.”

  * * *

  Ignoring the way the splintery floor was digging into the fresh lacerations on her back, Phoebe pulled against her chains. Pain shattered her breathing. She started coughing up blood. Stubbornly, she continued straining against her cuffs.

  For hours, her tormentor had intermittently beaten her and left her alone in the darkness. Each time he came back, he thought up new ways to terrify, hurt, or humiliate her. She’d screamed until she had no voice left. The only thought that kept her going was that surely someone would come soon. Drake would find her. Someone would help.

  Suddenly, Phoebe’s attacker kicked her stomach. She hadn’t heard his approach. She couldn’t see him in the darkness. Panic consumed her as he kicked her again. As more blows fell, a quiet voice whispered deep within her spirit, “Come away.”

  Keeping her eyes fixed on the pinpoint of light, Phoebe removed her mind from the present moment and focused on a happy memory. She was seven years old, and she was picking strawberries with her mother. She remembered the bright sunshine and puffy white clouds. The feel of warm dirt beneath her bare toes. The spicy-scented breeze that fanned her cheeks. She began to hear birdsong and her mother’s laughter. She could taste the juicy richness of the strawberries that found their way to her mouth rather than her pail.

  She stopped fighting. She stopped struggling. She stopped screaming. Her mind was shut far away from the darkness. She was wandering in scented fields of strawberries.

  * * *

  Flicking on the lights in the lab, Peter piled the suitcases by the wall and picked up the newly calibrated cartridge sitting by Zeke’s computer. Seeing a radio on the desk, Peter yawned and flipped it on. The silence was shattered as golden oldies blared. Jumping violently, Peter fumbled with the dials to turn it down. His lips twitched. Crystal had obviously picked the station, and she’d obviously been tired. Stretching his arms above his head, he went to Dan’s office to contact Poppa.

  Thirty minutes later, he went to find Laura. She was at her desk, making a phone call. A curl was dancing on her neck, and it was just begging to be touched. As he reached for it, Laura hung up and twirled around to face him. Peter swiftly raised his hand to scratch his chin.

  “Will Poppa deliver our cartridge to Nicki?” she asked.

  “He’ll get it to her within the hour. Everything going smoothly on your end?”

  She nodded. “I’ve contacted the dean for an extension on TEMCO’s end-of-the-year report, and I’ve found a substitute to give your speech at the Physics Symposium. All I have left is to cancel my dental appointment.”

  “Once again, I have to say you’re a marvel.” He paused. “Hey, did you pack any food for traveling?”

  “Never thought about it. Are there any energy bars in the file room?”

  “A whole case of them,” he replied. “They’re the go
od ones made with Gil’s latest recipe.”

  “Wonderful! I’m glad she made TEMCO’s energy bars her personal mission. I’d rather eat them than regular food.”

  “You’re not the only one.” Peter laughed. “Last week, I caught Marc chowing down. Seeing that one bar’s equivalent to a whole meal, I had to remind him not to overeat.” He turned to leave. “I’ll go pack the food while you call your dentist.”

  “Have you seen Zeke around?”

  “He’s sawing logs in the faculty lounge. We’ll let him sleep until Thomas arrives.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Peter watched as the Staging Platform shimmered with a faint blue glow. Leaning forward, he asked, “Zeke, is it Nicki?”

  Across the room, Zeke nodded. “The transmission’s emanating from your cartridge.”

  Before the blue wave stopped swirling, Nicki’s distraught voice wailed through the air, “Please help me! I don’t know what to do!”

  “Calm down,” Peter said as the teenager came into focus. “What’s wrong?”

  Nicki held up a photo with shaking hands. “My parents are gone on a business trip, and I found this taped to my front door. It’s awful!”

  Peter squinted through the portal. “I can’t see the picture clearly. Please, toss it to me.”

  The photo fluttered through the portal and landed at Laura’s feet. Peter watched as she picked it up and gasped. Noticeably shaken, she handed it to him.

  Peter’s heart lurched as he looked at it. The photo showed Phoebe tied to a chair. She had been brutally beaten, and behind her, Drake was lying in a gory pool of blood. His face had been mutilated, and his neck was slit from ear to ear. Bile rose in Peter’s throat. Turning the picture over, he found a message written in red, Director Matthews and Dr. Nelson come alone. Phoebe can’t talk right now, but she says ouch.

  “Zeke,” Peter said in a tight voice, “I need you to enlarge this photo.”

  As Zeke sprinted to his computer, Peter turned to Laura with anger blazing in his eyes. “Someone’s targeted our cadets.”

  Laura nodded and looked sick.

  “Whoever it is, he knows who we are, and he’s baiting us.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” she replied in a shaky voice. “We stick to the plan. It may be too late for Drake, but we must find Phoebe.”

  Thomas cleared his throat. “Peter, this assignment looks dangerous. Perhaps I’d better go with you rather than Laura. She can cover for us with Dan and Gil.”

  “I can handle myself,” Laura said sharply.

  “I know,” Thomas said in a worried voice, “but I can’t stand the thought of you being hurt.”

  “I’ll be fine,” Laura said gently. “Besides, the note said I was to come.”

  Thomas ran a finger beneath his collar. “What about the local authorities? Could Nicki contact the police?”

  Laura put her hand on Thomas’s arm. “You aren’t thinking clearly. No one from Nicki’s time, except for Nicki, is able to see Phoebe. If we send her to the police, they’ll think she’s crazy.”

  “Then you should take a weapon. I have a gun, and—”

  Peter stood to his feet. “You know that’s against TEMCO policy. If time surfers started carrying weapons, it’d be a Time Tsunami waiting to happen. One stray bullet, one fatal error, and we’d destroy the timeline. We can’t risk it.”

  “Then at least take backup. Call Marc Kerry or Ryan Adams. Or Zeke—he’d go.”

  “I’d be happy to volunteer,” Zeke called from across the room.

  Peter shook his head. “We need Zeke at the lab, and we can’t afford to take the time to calibrate another cartridge. Besides, the note says for us to come alone. We don’t want to spook the kidnapper into killing Phoebe.”

  Laura squeezed Thomas’s hand. “For now, we should follow the instructions. Don’t worry. Although it’s been a while since Peter and I were in the field, we’ve handled cases before that would curl your hair.”

  At her words, the bald man gave a reluctant smile.

  Peter cleared his throat. “We’ll try to contact you every day, but we don’t know how far we’ll need to travel to find Phoebe. If you don’t hear from us, give us seventy-two hours before alerting Dan.”

  Zeke sprinted across the room carrying enlarged photographs.

  Peter took one and handed the other to Thomas along with the original. “Analyze these and see if you can pinpoint Phoebe’s location.”

  As Thomas nodded, Peter turned to Zeke. “I want you to run a GAP search for TEMCO cases occurring within five years of contact with Nicki. Narrow the parameters to cases that took place within a hundred-mile radius of her hometown. Someone out there knows about TEMCO. See if you can figure out who we’re up against.”

  “I’ll do my best,” Zeke replied.

  “I know you will.” Peter looked at Laura. “Are you ready?”

  “I was born ready,” she replied, stepping through the beam.

  Peter’s lips twitched at her plucky response. Picking up their suitcases, he followed her through the time portal.

  * * *

  When Peter arrived at Nicki’s house, he questioned her extensively. The teenager was adamant that she hadn’t noticed anything strange in Drake and Phoebe’s behavior leading up to their disappearance. In a quest for clues, Peter and Laura began retracing the cadets’ steps.

  That afternoon, they walked to the fairgrounds and tried to find anything out of the ordinary. The art festival was coming up, but Drake hadn’t entered Nicki’s name. When no one was watching, Peter signed Nicki up for a booth. The way he figured it, the teen deserved to have her dream fulfilled. When he was done, he saw Laura looking at her watch and sighing.

  “It’s time, isn’t it?” he asked quietly.

  Laura nodded. “Gil’s surgery should be starting any minute.”

  * * *

  In a curtained-off cubicle, Dan sat next to his wife’s gurney and tucked a stray blonde curl beneath the surgical cap surrounding her hair. He held her hand and stroked her cheek gently.

  Gil nuzzled against his fingers. “Jay’s with your mom?”

  Dan swallowed the lump in his throat. “She and Dad are in the waiting room with Thomas.”

  Gil squeezed his hand. “I’m gonna be fine, but with my heart…if something happens—”

  “Shh!”

  “No, Dan, please listen. If something happens, I wrote you a letter after you finally got to sleep last night. It’s tucked inside my Bible.”

  The lump in Dan’s throat grew so large he couldn’t speak. Nodding, he caressed her cheek.

  “You’ll keep my ring safe?” she asked.

  Dan showed her the wedding ring resting snuggly on the top half of his pinky. It was the first time since their wedding day that his ring had left her finger.

  She rubbed her tan line and sighed. “My hand feels naked.”

  “When you wake up, I’ll put your ring back on for you.”

  A nurse in surgical scrubs pulled back the curtain briskly. “It’s time to say goodbye.”

  “We’re not saying goodbye,” Dan replied fiercely. “This isn’t goodbye. It can’t be!” He leaned down and kissed Gil’s lips. “You’re going to go to sleep for a while, and when you wake up, I’ll be right by your side. Everything’s going to be fine.”

  Gil gave him a lopsided smile. “Try not to worry too much. The hospital might frown if you wear a hole in their carpet.”

  Dan gave a strained chuckle. “I’ll try to keep my pacing in check.”

  As the nurse wheeled the gurney away, Dan walked beside Gil for as long as he could. They both were silent. When they approached a set of double doors, he ran his finger down the soft curve of her cheek. “I love you forever.”

  Gil smiled softly. “I know.”

  Dan stood and watched as Gil was taken from him. As the doors snapped shut behind his wife, he felt more alone than he’d ever felt in his life.

  * * *

  Gil looked up at the n
urse steering her gurney. She had little yellow ducks painted on her cap. The sight of the ducks made Gil smile. She turned her attention to the whizzing ceiling tiles and watched as rows of florescent lights flickered past the moving gurney. The flash of the lights was mesmerizing. She began to count them as she sailed beneath. Flash-one. Bare ceiling. Flash-two. Bare ceiling. Flash-three. Bare ceiling…

  Suddenly, counting became too much work. Sighing softly, she closed her eyes.

  * * *

  Dan walked quickly past the waiting room. He couldn’t face his parents yet. He couldn’t face anyone. He’d break down if he tried. Gil’s surgery was dangerous, and the odds were high that there would be complications.

  Entering the elevator, he ran a shaking hand over his eyes. When he reached Gil’s room, he sat on the bed and struggled to get his emotions under control. He clutched her pillow to his chest and rocked slowly back and forth. Unbearable pain was burning its way around his heart. Looking over at the nightstand, he saw Gil’s Bible. Grabbing it like a lifeline, he opened it and found the letter she had written.

  Darling,

  If you’re reading this, then things didn’t go as we hoped. I know you’re feeling awful right now, but I want to remind you that it wasn’t your fault that giving birth ripped my scar tissue or that Rick stabbed me in the first place. It was my choice to face D-day, and I would do it again. God gave me a wonderful blessing when He let me know you as a boy. I was proud of the little boy that you were, and I’m proud of the man you became. Most of all, I’m proud to have been your wife. I wouldn’t trade our few years together for a whole lifetime with someone else. I love you. I always will. Forever.

  As the clock ticks down toward my surgery, life seems infinitely precious. I know the dangers I’m about to face, and so do you. We haven’t talked about it much—we haven’t had to—and verbalizing the risks would make them seem all too real. Before you fell asleep tonight, you held me close and prayed with me. It meant so much. Your unwavering faith has been such a blessing in my life. Never lose it. I want you to teach our son to have that kind of faith, and I want you to teach him how to sing.