by Jill Cooper
Glancing up I see we are about two steps from the Pru where Jax works in finance. He should be at work now which means I need to get there, warn him. But not over the phone just in case someone is listening to us.
Pulling my phone out my fingers fly across the keys to send him a text message. Don’t come pick me up at school. I’m coming to you.
We come to a stop and it’s only when we’re inching forward again that I receive his reply. All right. Everything okay?
I think of every answer I could give him that would make him feel better. Make up a lie. But instead I decide to send the safe word. The word that if something was wrong, if I was a bad situation, scared, I’d send so he would know and no one else would need to.
Scooby Do.
Not the most elegant of safe words, but we picked it a long time ago when I was just a kid. Jax doesn’t respond before I get to my stop so I pocket my cell phone into the front of my jeans and I step off and walk with the crowd.
There are mirrors angled up at the ceilings for the conductors and I use them to check my surroundings. Behind me is a man in a black trench coat with a newspaper tucked under his arm. He stares straight ahead with a less than casual stone expression. Jax’s would-be-killer wears a black coat, but so do a thousand other people in the city.
I have no reason to be scared.
But I am and I need to test my theory.
Turning down the corridor, I smell fresh butter popcorn and hotdogs. I stand in line and fish some money out of my back pack. “Popcorn.” I slide the money across the counter and wait for him to hand me a small bag.
“Salt’s over there if you want it.”
Politely I decline and head back out the way I came. If I’m lucky, the man in the black coat will have continued past. He won’t be there. I won’t be being followed.
I step out back into the main hall and there aren’t many people left except for a few sitting on benches with headphones in their ears or leaning back with a good book.
But I see him. The main in the black trench coat.
He’s leaning against the wall, reading his newspaper.
I don’t stare. I move forward and use the mirror to track his movements. He folds the paper, tucks it back under his arm and walks. Picks up the pace toward the subway exit.
My heart quickens and I bite my lip. There’s no doubt who he is. There’s no doubt I have to stop him. I can’t lead him right to Jax.
But how did we end up on the same train car? At the same station? My stomach is fraught with nerves and my face flushes. Tightly I grip my backpack in my hand. It’s filled with five heavy texts books from all my classes. I might as well have weighed it down with bricks.
Tense, I put one hand on the railing to the stairs that lead to the street right toward Jax. One foot balances on the stairs as my eyes peer into the mirror and see the man in the dark coat has slowed his steps down to fall back, so I won’t notice him.
But oh boy do I notice him.
And now he’s within arm distance.
I spin and swing the backpack hitting him in the face. The broken zipper catches his skin and scratches him deep. His sunglasses are knocked off and the skin of his face warbles like I’ve slowed time down. I ready my backpack again, but he grabs my arm with an iron-like grip and his other forces me against the wall.
All the air forces from my lungs and I can’t draw breath. Behind the dark man I hear someone scream. “Help! Help! Someone get the police!”
My free hand makes a fist and I bash him over the shoulder with it. Then lift my legs and send my feet crashing into his stomach.
He doesn’t move back far, but far enough so I can take a step and then he rears forward and grab me by the throat. We spin, my foot dangerously close to being off the edge of the platform. I grab the arm that’s lodged around my neck, take a deep breath and hold for balance. It’s like an anchor and I don’t dare let go.
Driving my elbow back into his gut, I bend and send him crashing over my body. He groans as his back crashes into the brick. I twist his arms until he screams and his hands are bent back in an awkward angle.
His joints pop and he gives a gargled scream.
Never let it be said that Lara Crane doesn’t know how to take a self-defense class after being imprisoned for two years. No one is ever going to best me like that again.
Using his arms as handles, I drag him back. Stomping on his belly with my sneaker as hard as I can, his coat falls open.
And his gun shines right at his waistline.
I pick it up and tuck it under the back of my hoodie at my jeans. Just as the MBTA police arrive.
“Miss!” They call and I stand up straight and heave for air.
“I’m okay.”
They force him up and handcuff his hands behind his back. I’m victorious. I’ve won but still the man in black is snarling. “You think this is over, Lara?”
His voice is British. The snarl, the way his eyes look, it chills me. It reminds me so much of Rex that I shiver on the inside.
“Who the hell are you?” My voice is low and guttural with its demands.
“You’ll never really be free. Trust me.” He lowers his head so we can make eye contact and his face twists cruelly. I don’t know what he has to gloat about, but a second later he’s gone.
A blue swirl of smoke and light are left where a human being should be, but he’s just gone.
“What the hell?” The police shares glances at one another as the color drains out of my face and I grab the wall. I’m pretty sure I’m about to fall over.
That’s not all I’m sure of. I’m pretty sure I just met someone just like me.
A time traveler.
*****
A time traveler.
Someone just like me. Here.
How is that possible? How?
I’m left with more questions than answers. As I think about them I stroke the back of my head and feel the cover Rewind has set me with. I formulate an answer, but it’s not one I want to think about.
It scares me. Terrifies me that what I want to stop most in the world has already happened. The government, Rewind, it has all come to pass in another time. Another place. And there’s nothing I can do because everything I do leads me straight toward a future I don’t want to think about.
The MBTA police are so shaken by what’s happened, we agree not to talk about it. Not to file a report because let’s face it; no one is ready for this.
I’m not ready for this.
So I leave. I take the stairs two at a time and it’s not long before the Pru is in my sights. For all I know the time traveler has skipped ahead and already murdered Jax. The anxiety tightens in my chest because if this assassin guy is a time traveler, he’s going places I can’t follow.
There’s nothing I can do about it. I don’t even think I can travel back in time even if I want to. Rewind has messed with my brain and everything they’ve done to stabilize me has cut me off from my power. If that’s what they’ve done because let’s face it, Rewind has never told the truth about anything.
No matter the timeline. No matter who was in charge, they’ve always lied. Cheated.
I need to find a way to beat them.
When I step inside, I leap up the escalator steps and I’m emptied straight into the plaza where all the shopping stores are centered. I sneak by the crowds who gather around the carts in the center selling Boston trinkets, scarfs, and teddy bears and go left toward the offices where Jax works.
He has a small office, not like the big one he had at Rewind. I knock lightly and push the door open. Hoping he’s okay. Hoping he’s not dead.
I bite my lip as I step inside and when he stands to greet me, I break out into a relieved grin.
“Lara, you should still be in school. What’s this about?” Jax approaches me with a scowl on his face, his hands on his hips.
But I don’t care if he disapproves. Instead I slam him with a hug and squeeze him so hard he yelps.
His arms come around me and he kisses the top of my head. “When you hug me like this, it scares me. You all right?”
I shake my head and straighten up. “We need to talk.”
“About?” Jax asks and sits on the corner of his desk.
“Your murder.”
Jax raises his eyebrows and picks up the phone. “Diane, you better hold my calls.”
Taking a deep breath, I weave my fingers together in front of me and tell him everything. About how I jump time and he’s murdered right in front of me. Jax’s eyes soften and he squeezes my shoulder. I’m not sure, but I think the fact that I witnessed his murder upsets him more than the murder itself.
“I’m so sorry, Lar. That you had to see that.”
He’s probably in shock. So I tell him how I travel back, without any ability to control it. About the man on the subway and how he vanished in a blue spark and a cloud of smoke.
Jax sits there; his legs straight and grips the edge of the desk. The words I’ve said sink in all around him and I wonder what he’s thinking. Feeling. Because he’s not coming out and telling me.
“You don’t have another British brother out there, right?”
Jax shakes his head no, but still can’t bring himself to look at me.
I have to wonder why. I think I might need to summon Diane and ask her to bring Jax a cup of tea when finally he speaks. “I’ve been getting death threats.”
My heart skips a beat. “When? Who?”
Jax moves over to his desk and takes a key from his pocket. He unlocks the top drawer and pulls out a manila folder. “I never wanted to show them to anyone, least of all you.” His voice is soft. “But seems you’re wrapped up in this just as much as I am and…I’m sorry, Lara. I never wanted any of this for you or your mom.”
I know of all that. He’s been apologizing the same way for over a year.
I’m afraid to flip open the folder and my heart gallops away in my chest. There are pages, maybe half a dozen of magazine cut letters glued together to form words. Cliché. Not very original.
You’ll be dead.
Stay away from Rewind.
Pretty much each page has the same gist except the last page has a black and white photo of me and mom. We are walking down the street, not far from the house we once shared with Jax. And someone used a bright red marker to put a red X through my face.
I bite my lip and can’t even read the words on the page. My fingers go numb as I slide the folder closed and gaze up. “Did you call the police?”
Jax shakes his head. “I didn’t want to involve them.”
“Why not?” I scowl.
Jax paces over by the window. “I didn’t want them to ask questions I can’t answer.”
“What kind of—.” My sentence trails off as I flip through the death threats in my mind. I keep getting hung up on the same detail. “You’ve been snooping around Rewind. That’s why they want you dead. Jax—.”
My eyes go wide as he bends down at his desk and opens his safe. He pulls out a journal and a diary. There are papers sticking out and photographs. Jax flips through them. “This is everything I’ve gotten my hands on. The government is planning on making time travel big, Lara. They’re designing systems to make more like you. And that’s not all they’re doing.”
At that precise moment I don’t care about Rewind and what they’re doing.
All I care about is Jax.
My cheeks puff out with air. “If the police find out what you’ve been doing, it’ll void your immunity agreement. You’ll go to jail.” My face runs out and inside I’m cold. I fight the urge to puke.
Jax stands and he hands me the journals and the diary. “We need to find a way to stop them. Get someone to listen. They already have test subjects and…it’s not going well, Lara. People are being hurt. Dying. Those in charge know and just don’t care.”
I don’t know who will listen to me. I don’t know who can help us. The government does what it wants. It takes. And when you fight back…When you fight back you find yourself on the wrong end of a needle.
It’s like I’m stuck at the bottom of a well and every time I try to climb up, I just sink lower. “You make it sound like…I’m going to find a way to save you.”
“He’s a time traveler, if your theory is right. That means it’s just a matter of time before he gets it right. You can’t be everywhere at once.” Jax strokes my face with his thumb.
“Dad,” my voice is so small I almost can’t hear it. “You can’t just give up. I always find a way I’m Lara…Montgomery.”
There’s a tear in his eye. “You think I want to die? But you, this, it’s more important to me. So you do what you have to.” Jax puts both of his hands over mine and squeezes them. “You take these, you hide them, keep them safe. And when the time is right, when you’re able to turn them over to the right person, you do it.”
I want to argue with him, but I can’t. Instead tears run down my cheeks and everything feels so unfair. My face scrunches and I lean against him.
“Keep yourself safe. Your Mom. The kids. Do whatever you have to do, Lara. Whatever.” His eyes are defiant and I know what he’s saying. I know permission when I hear it, but to kill?
Didn’t I promise myself I would never do that again?
But if it means I can save Jax. If it means saving my family, what choice do I have?
I turn from Jax and stop at his office door. “I’ll call you soon. Don’t leave here until I get back.”
Jax nods that he’ll do what I ask. I just hope the next time I see Jax he isn’t in a body bag.
****
When I get home, no one is home. The twins are at school and Mom’s at work.
So I grab the toolbox that Dad has left there for making repairs and bring it up to my room. I draw the shades down low and peel off my hoodie and get to work. My nightstand is against the wall so the first thing I do is move it.
Then on my hands and knees, I use a saw to cut away a small hole in the drywall. I stash the diary and journal that Jax gave me inside. Even the gun because I don’t want to use it and I don’t want anyone else to either.
The piece of drywall I’ve cut, I put back and then I puddy the edges back up. It’s not the best system in the world and if someone moved my end table they’d see it, but I’m betting my money, a lot of money, that no one is going to look.
I put the end table back in place and sit on my bed. Once it’s dry I’ll sand it down and paint it. Just in case someone comes looking for it. For me.
I take a deep breath and that’s when the shit hits the fan.
“Lara Crane!” Downstairs a door slams. “Are you here? Lara!”
Crap. It’s Dad.
Putting on my hoody, I zip it up and grab the toolbox. “Coming!”
I stash the toolbox on the bathroom floor under the sink before I run down the stairs. “Hey, Dad.”
Dad looks relieved I’m okay, but the way his lips fold into each other proves I’m not completely off the hook. We hug briefly. “Where’ve you been? Your principal called your mother and told her you left school today.”
My fingers twist together and I think of what I can say that isn’t about Jax, who is sort of a sore subject, or assassins from the future.
“Lara,” Dad warns with a soft tone and a tilt of his head. “Your mom has been worried sick and you know she can’t leave to come find you herself. She thought the feds might have got you again.”
“Don and I--.”
The look in Dad’s eyes says he doesn’t buy it and his face grows red. “We talked to him too and he’s as worried as we are. So you have no choice but to be straight with me.”
“Ohhh.” I twist on my heels.
Dad sighs and points to the sofa. He leads me over and we sit together. His arm is on the back of the sofa and he’s patient, waiting for me to talk.
I lean forward my elbows on my knees and rub my face. Dad rubs the back of my neck, but doesn’t say anything. The man’s patient, but
I guess you don’t spend ten years of your life in prison without learning a few life skills.
“Will it ever stop? Will it ever get easier?”
“Oh, sweetheart.” Dad sighs. “I know it’s hard for you. I know it seems like everything that’s going on will never end and that it’s all your fault. But it’s not. Things were set into motion before you were born. When you were just a kid.”
“And the government. The rest? You really think they’ll ever really stop?”
Dad raises his eyebrows as I lean back on the sofa. His arm wraps around me and I stare up at his face. “Time travel? In the government.” He shakes his head. “It’ll never fly. Even if it were to pass Congress, somehow it’ll get shut down. Checks and balances. That’s how our system works.”
“You’re awfully naïve for an old guy.”
“Hey.” Dad laughs and wraps his arms around me. I nestle in against his chest.
“I’m glad you’re here.”
He kisses the side of my head. “We’ll tell your mom you just had to get away. The stress…everything that’s happened, you need to be alone. All right?”
I nod. “Thanks, Dad. It’s not really a lie.”
“I know, princess. But Donovan, you’re going to have to handle him yourself.” He pats my knee. “I don’t do boyfriends.”
Thank heavens for that.
“Before, at Rewind, they told me they’d never let me go. I’d never really be free.” I sigh and glance up at him, looking for comfort. “It’s a recurring theme. People keep saying that to me and I’m starting to think they’re right.”
“You can’t think like that.” Dad might say it, but the expression on his face says the exact opposite. He thinks I’m right. He doesn’t think the government will ever stop.
This is it. My life. I knew I’d never be normal, but now I’ll never really be free.
Dad stands up and heads to the kitchen. “Help me get dinner started for your mom. It’ll put her in a better mood.”
He sure has been over a lot lately, but I’m quiet as I follow him into the kitchen.
