Time Crossers 01: The Final Six Days

by Agster, Joe

  She tenses up at her own words, giving her pause, before she continues, “The asteroid discovery stirred up a lot of anti-Asian attitudes. Since I am of mixed ancestry, actually a quarter Chinese, I am sometimes made to feel like an enemy in my own country.”

  “How can you be an enemy when you share the same fate as that man?”

  Friend’s question is interrupted as a group of armed men drive up the street, pointing guns through the window. Cassie motions quickly, forcing her and Friend to the ground, tucked behind an advertisement sign. They stay out of view just in time to avoid detection. Gradually looking up, they see the vehicle much further down the road, emitting flashes and popping sounds. It appears they were chasing someone who was trying to flee, possible possessing valuables or food.

  Friend is intrigued by the popping sounds, and the apparent fear they have instilled in Cassie. According to her those are called guns. Unfamiliar to him, she goes on to describe how they fire a high speed projectile called a bullet, capable of penetrating flesh and bone, killing a person instantly. He wonders why anyone would want such a weapon. His intuition tells him that he has experience with weapons, but only those used for defense and prevention. Sensing the danger that these so-called guns pose, and concerned for her well-being, he insists they take shelter back in the room.

  “Are you satisfied with our night out now?” Friend asks sarcastically to the amusement of Cassie.

  “Other than that just now, yes.” She responds in a low voice.

  They make it back to the hotel, and inside, notice some of the lighting as dimmed. She hears footsteps in the far distance, and turns and urges Friend to keep quiet, who is directly behind. Just then she spots more trouble, a gang of three or four, armed and scavenging for anything, food, clothes, anything useful.

  “Quick!” She hides behind a flipped over Pai Gow poker table, waving Friend over. She whispers softly, almost silently. “Remember those guys from outside with the guns? Seems there are more like them over there.”

  They watch as the men mill around, seemingly going in circles, until one points in their general direction. They steadily approach, with a heavyset man in black jogging clothing leading the group. She wonders if it’s coincidence or if they hear or saw them as they hid. She puts her lips right into his ear. “We’re going to have to run for it.”

  But just before she gets up, a couple shots ring out, punching holes in the wall before them and screeching loudly like bolts of thunder, the echoes reverberatingly reminding them how desolate the hotel has become.

  “Change of plan.” Cassie utters as softly as a cautious mouse. “On my command, run to the elevator, hit a bunch of buttons, then meet me at the stairs.”

  Friend immediately objects. “Wait, we need to—”

  Before he can say more, she stands up, looking directly into the eye of the heavyset leader.

  “Looks guys. What a cutie we got here.” They all lower their weapons as they turn their attention on her. Soon after she gives Friend a forceful nod. He emerges immediately running with all his power toward the elevator. They turn their focus back on Friend, three of them even giving chase, but by then he is dozens of meters away. When the focus returns to her they are stunned to see that she has vanished!

  She crawls along the floor and soon finds herself among the taller slot machines. She slithers among the maze of tables and machines, carefully avoiding them by observing their shadows. With enough distance now she finally makes a run for it, converging on the stairwell that is situated opposite of the elevator room entry. There she finds a concerned Friend grateful to be united with her. They glance through the crack in the door once more to see the men out of view.

  “I don’t think they saw us come in here,” she tells him. Without delay they both race up the stairs, gaining several floors in case she is wrong. By the time they hear the door open, they are up to the seventh floor. They pause for a moment, trying to be silent. They hear footsteps, then one man telling another something, before the armed group finally retreats back into the casino.

  “Did you hit the elevator buttons?” she asks forcefully. He nods, wondering what is the point. She replies, “If we took the elevators they may have caught our floor on the monitor. Good thing we’re young and can handle these stairs.”

  “How did you get away?” he wonders.

  “I guess all those women’s ninjitsu self-defense classes finally paid off,” she laughs. “Those chubsters appear to be out of shape, and going invisible wasn’t too hard.” She takes delight as she fails to slow escalating these stairs, but at about the fifteenth floor Friend is exhausted and longing for an elevator ride.

  They eventually make it safely to the room. Cassie is cautious about turning anything on, the lights, the holographic monitor, anything with light. Someone from the strip can spot their lights through their large windows. To mitigate this, she closes the curtains leaving a sliver to keep some light in the room.

  Minutes go by as they sit in their dark room alone, having nothing but each other for entertainment. She introduces him to the game of Truth or Dare, hoping it will draw out a playful and desirous mood. The first few rounds are mostly truths, silly questions like asking “what would you do” in certain scenarios. Do to his absent memory Friend doesn’t have any truths to parlay, so eventually she forces him into dares. Innocent dares like taking off a shirt eventually turns into more lustful ones, like a silly kiss on her neck.

  Friend prefers asking truths, as it gives him opportunity to learn more about her and the world around them. What would be the first thing you would do if the asteroid were stopped? Return to her schooling at Caltech, if possible. Who does she envy the most? Her brother, for graduating from UCLA and being her mother’s favorite. Who is the most important man in her life? Her father, even though he died when she was nineteen. He has an insatiable curiosity about her, and never fails to come up with another question when it’s his turn.

  Eventually, Friend’s unabashed and unconditional admiration for her causes her to lower her guard. She steers him into more naughty questions, like: what is his ideal woman, and was her favorite sexual moment. The intimacy of these truths would seem to tempt their jealousy, but being together now, pouring their souls into each other, makes them feel alive. His natural restraint against giving into the ecstasy of passion is tested for sure. But in a few days, will it even matter?

  On a final dare, when it’s her turn, she slowly looks into his eyes, thinking of what dare to pursue next. He stares back, and with passion overflowing, being tormented and teased all night, leans over and locks his lips onto hers, then their tongues connecting, their shirts already off. Nothing more is said after that.

  4

  Day 4 – December 29

  He slowly wakes with Cassie’s arm wrapped around his torso. He is fascinated as her exposed backside reveals a red female dragon skin drawing decorated along her spine, tattoos as they are called. He finds this style of body art unusual, yet somewhat delightful and sexy when on her. She continues to hold on to him through her slumber, as he sits up watching the monitor.

  She eventually wakes to the monotone and somber reporting she hears through the monitor. According to the broadcasts, the military has made an official statement saying they have pulled out of Las Vegas, and advising all citizens to do the same. There are also reports of dangerous gangs, both here and throughout the world. Her hometown of Los Angeles is under siege. The airport had also been evacuated by last night, scattering thousands of unlucky would be travelers. The messages from the broadcasts are no longer continuous, they just trickle in now. Minutes of silence and nothing but empty images occasionally project lifelessly from the monitor.

  She sits up, feeling warm and comforted by him, but questioning her decision to stay. Her logical mind fights with her, prodding her to find a way to survive. But she acquiesces to the fact that this is her destiny. She cannot explain it and it’s a feeling she cannot ignore, greater than her feeling of love and
infatuation for Friend. Some divine force put her on this path. She wonders if it is God himself. Her faith has ebbed and flowed at times, but in this moment she finds it hard to believe otherwise.

  Friend stands up and heads toward the bread, grabbing the final roll and handing it to her. “Here Cassie, this is the last of the bread. I saved this last one for you.”

  She smiles, reluctantly taking it. She devours it, but it barely satisfies her hunger.

  She comments, “We’ll need to find more food.”

  “There are dangerous gangs all over the place,” he replies, recalling the information from the broadcast. “But I’m not sure how safe it is right now, especially after last night.”

  “We need to take a chance. If we don’t find food today there may not be any left.”

  Friend reflects on his intuitions, feeling strange, as if he has been in this situation before. Something tells him he’s been trained to protect himself from danger. He’s had experience in relying on survival skills. She is very brave in her own right, and he feels he must match his courage with hers.

  “I know of a place,” Friend affirms.

  They head out again, finding their way to the streets outside. It’s unusually warm today, enough for Friend to regret wearing such a thick sweater. As they head north, she reminisces about exploring different sides of Vegas, the different hotels and clubs she’s visited over the years coming here. She describes the older side as nostalgic, the area where the Strip began, about a century ago. She bemoans how the city has slowly been on the decline, as gambling has become more decentralized.

  The long enduring walk was uneventful, with no dangerous gangs to speak of, or much of anyone for that matter. They arrive at the entrance of the Fashion Shopping District. He recalls his visit to this place on the first day, it was his first stop off the train.

  They look upon the opening to discover the doors have been forced open, with shattered glass and debris scattered through the ground. “It’s like the zombie apocalypse here,” she comments, looking around at the destruction.

  “What’s a zombie apocalypse?” he quizzically asks, to her laughter.

  As they enter, he is awestruck at the transformation from lively and buzzing mercantile hangar to an empty one, left mostly dark with only natural lighting from the skylights above. They make their way to the eatery where he ate on the first day. As expected it is ransacked, with most of the food and refreshments already taken. With no one around, they decide to check it further, hoping to find some that was missed.

  They scavenge, going restaurant to restaurant. Just as they are about to give up, he discovers a small locked refrigerator at a sandwich shop, tucked underneath a preparation table. They search for a key to no avail. Eventually they find a crowbar to pry it open. It takes about twenty minutes, but once open, they discover small containers of roast beef, turkey, and tuna, along with cheese and various vegetables. Cassie’s eyes nearly pop out in delight. They make themselves sandwiches and enjoy every bite of them. They wrap up and conceal the rest in their backpack.

  On their way out, Cassie can’t resist but stare into a particular women’s clothing store, still full of a variety of beautiful clothing, dresses, skirts, tops, all left abandoned for anyone to take. “Can we stop for a second? Can you believe all these dresses just left here like this?”

  She runs off into the store, helping herself to the hundreds of different outfits, searching for something suitable for an end of the world party. He watches with concern as she is endlessly fingers through every piece of clothing she can find. He worries that they may be spotted, but sees the happiness in her eyes and that puts him somewhat at ease.

  She chooses a black dress, decorated with pearls and a see through portion through the sleeves up to the cleavage area. A dress she professes she could not normally afford, and according to her, it’s from a famous clothing designer. She spends the next few minutes amassing more clothes, especially some to counter the cold nights that she can wear on their final nights.

  They suddenly hear frantic footsteps. They duck just in time to watch a man streak by in a furor, appearing to be running from something. Moments later they hear shouting, and a gunshot rings out. They move closer to the front of the store, getting a closer look as they see five armed gang members looking for the man who was running. The gang stops near their vantage point, as one of the armed men orders the running man to surrender. The man appears to be hiding, unwilling to run any farther.

  “We need to help that guy,” Friend whispers.

  “Are you crazy? Shhh!” She pleads with him to stay down.

  “No person deserves to die at the hands of violence,” he states as he stands up, walking out of the store and into the main plaza. She pleads with him once more before staying down and out of sight.

  He approaches the gang, unintimidated by their presence. The four men and one woman are dressed in all black, two of them wearing black cloths of some sort over their face to conceal their identity. All of them are decorated in body tattoos scattered throughout their skin, albeit much less artistic and more random and unfocused. Eventually they detect him from behind, and turn around to face him, guns drawn.

  “What the shit is this supposed to be, man?” the leader shouts directly at Friend, pointing his gun at him. He is the tallest and largest man on their squad, making it obvious why they chose them as their leader.

  Friend digs deep, drawing on his instincts. “Pardon me for not totally understanding your peculiar dialect. I’m not sure what a ‘shit’ is. I was just hoping to understand the purpose of chasing this man down.”

  “That’s our business homie. Now step aside before you get killed,” he shouts back at Friend in an intimidating demeanor as he remains unflinching, confident in his knowledge of human emotion. Friend can immediately sense that they are not out searching for food or trying to survive, they are out trying to cause trouble, for fun. Individually deep down they strive for more, but group dynamics force them to wander aimlessly, looking for self-worth at the expense of others.

  Friend answers, “Killed? I’ve already accepted death. We’re all dead in a matter of days, hours. Wouldn’t you rather make every last second count? Perhaps spend your last hours with someone you love, or doing something positive and adventurous?”

  They stare at him in complete silence, looking downward, as if they had been scolded like disobedient children. They feel the weight of the truth of his words, but to save face, the leader speaks up. “Let’s go. They don’t got anything we need anyway.”

  After the gang leaves, Friend returns to a stunned Cassie, helping her up. The other man runs off, unwilling to thank Friend for intervening, but he pays that no mind. She grabs her newly acquired clothing and they make their way back to the room.

  20:58

  Later into the evening after darkness befalls the deserted city, they find their way to the roof of their hotel. The roof is fenced all around and decorated as a hangout, intended for the highest paying guests staying in the top floors. On the side facing the Strip there are a few large chairs with heaters nearby. It is much colder as an increasingly strong wind blows away the warmth from earlier.

  As they sit and relax with the heat providing them comfort, Cassie compels Friend to discuss what little he knows about himself. “What prompted you to confront that armed gang?”

  “I wasn’t confronting them as much as I was liberating them from their masked personas,” he replies. “In every person is an innate desire to love and be loved.”

  “Supreme excellence is breaking your enemy’s resistance without fighting,” she states, briefly glancing at the sky. She thinks on that key quote she’s read so many times.

  “Wow, Cassie. That’s a very deep statement.”

  “It’s not mine. It’s from an ancient Chinese book, The Art of War. Now I see why you named yourself ‘Friend’. You truly embody that name,” she remarks, passionately rubbing his back, questioning if it is coincidence or if he deli
berately chose it to reflect his personality. “When did you decide to call yourself that?”

  He laughs as he is eager to answer. “The moment I laid eyes on you.”

  She initially blushes before her logical mind prods her to demand to know more about the man before her. “Doesn’t it bother you to not know who you are?”

  He smiles at the question. “It’s strange, but when I met you, and finally let go of trying to figure out who I am, my intuition pointed me toward clues about my origins. I’ve begun to question if I am really from this world. Many of your society’s customs are primitive and foreign to me.”

  “Really? Like what?”

  “Well one thing I have noticed is that it is commonplace for people to hide their true selves behind layers of facades. Even you Cassandra, it took a world calamity before you finally let go and let your true self come out.”

  She finds the thought amusing, but sadly true. She then becomes self-conscious, hoping that she is as real and forthcoming as she can be. She finds solace in understanding why people hide behind personas, as he suggests, but it is society itself that imposes this demand on everyone. She then feels is necessary to ask what side of her he sees now.

  “So who did you fall in love with? The socially masked Cassandra, or the real Cassandra?”

  “I saw and felt the real you right away. I saw immediately that you are highly intelligent, yet fun loving. Ambitious, yet carefree. I also sense that deep within you is a reservoir of secrets or dark memories you abhor to remember.”

  She pauses to soak in his words, before she reveals, “I’ve met guys, and when they discover how intelligent I am, they are intimidated and put off. Even in this day and age, we as a society have come a long away, but still there are those who are burdened by a woman with too much esteem.”