by L. Eira
“Me too,” said Brent. “The albino girl was there.”
“And Zack and Mackenzie,” said Younger Ellie.
“Yes! Yes! We all had the same dream! No time for discussion right now,” said Older Ellie. “There are thirty-eight adults slowly advancing toward us. They’re encircling us. At present pace, they’ll be here in one hundred and fifty-four seconds.” She bit her lower lip, still analyzing the screen. “That’s two and a half minutes. Hurry!”
Several yards away, Sparks and his men marched at a snail’s pace to remain undetected by the kids. The cadre of police officers formed a circle around the cave, with only a few feet in between each cop.
“If our intelligence is right, the kids should be in that cave,” whispered Sparks. “There’s no way they’ll escape. Kaiser, spread the word that the cave is only a few yards ahead.”
“The heat sensors indicated that there are definitely four or five people right outside the cave,” said Rogers. “It’s got to be them.”
“Step lively, but don’t make any noise,” said Sparks. “We’ve got to catch these kids once and for all.”
In no time, the police force reached the clearing right outside the cavern.
“Detective,” said Kaiser. “The heat sensor showed that whoever was out here suddenly disappeared. I’m sure they ran inside the cave. I don’t know how they knew we were coming. But they’re in this cave.”
“I heard some sort of an alarm,” said one of the cops who had approached from the opposite direction. “They set up some sort of an alarm to alert them if anyone was approaching.”
“The fire was going until they covered it with dirt,” said another officer. “The embers are still warm.”
“They were sleeping on shrubs and leaves around the fire pit,” said another.
“None of that matters now,” said Sparks. “We know they’re in this cave. We got them. Finally!”
“Get some light in this cave,” said Kaiser. “We need to search it inch by inch until we find them. We know they’re in there.”
“Rogers, you and me will take a whole bunch of men and go inside the cave with lights and search everywhere,” commanded Sparks. “Kaiser, take a whole bunch more and go around the cave to make sure there are no exits other than this opening here. The rest of you guard this cave opening with your lives. Let no one out that you don’t personally recognize.”
Sparks was the first one in. Holding a flashlight over his Colt 45, he walked slowly, his manner cocksure. Behind him, many others flashed their lights here and there, each slicing into the darkness.
“Leave no stone unturned,” said Sparks. “They’re in here somewhere. I’m sure of it.”
The cave seemed long, but narrow. Its walls were made of rock and dirt, and a few tree roots were visible. After a few minutes, they reached a blind alley, the end of the cave.
“No one in here, Detective,” said one of the cops.
“I know the kids are in here,” declared Sparks. “Hey kids, come out of whatever hole you’re hiding in right now, or I’ll get some dynamite and collapse this whole damn cave and leave you rats in here to die.” Silence. “You got five minutes. I’ll be right outside the cave. If you’re not out in five minutes, this whole cave is coming down. Either go to prison or get buried alive. I don’t give a shit which you choose. Time’s ticking!”
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Mackenzie was suddenly awakened from deep sleep, a sense of doom materializing deep in her chest. The feeling that some calamity was about to happen, some kind of unstoppable tragedy that would affect her in unimaginable ways. But what? She looked around the clearing surrounding the mouth of the cave. All was quiet except for the peaceful voices of the tiny creatures of the night. A group of bullfrogs croaked their rhythmic serenade, while the spring peepers and whippoorwills proclaimed the tranquility of the twilight. An owl occasionally chimed in. Yet Mackenzie’s gut was perturbed and tense.
Is something bad happening to Zack? she imagined. Or to the kids and Aunt Ellie? Mackenzie paced around the fire pit, as the embers faded to gray ash. She took a deep, cleansing breath.
Inside their hideout, the teenagers and Ellie from the future sat on the floor behind the enormous boulder that served as the door into their concealed compartment.
“The cops are about to level this whole cave,” said William. “We’ll die in here.”
“They won’t do it,” said Older Ellie.
“They will,” said William. “I can feel it in my bones.”
“I agree with Ellie,” said Brent. “They would never do something that awful. Not because it would be so dreadful, but because it would look bad on TV.”
“I can’t take that chance,” said William. “It’s me they’re looking for. I’ll give myself up. Let me out of here.”
“No,” said Brent. “You can’t do that.”
“William,” said Younger Ellie. “We just had a dream where we actually spoke with someone who is in the future. The future of this cave. Zack told us he found some neural depolarizer blast marks on the ground. Inside this cave. There will be no cave-in today.”
“Yes,” said Older Ellie. “I would also remember if the cave was destroyed. And it’s not!”
“That’s another future,” said William. “We are creating a new future here and now. Let me out. I can’t chance us all getting killed because of me.”
“No way,” said Brent. “No!”
“Look,” said William. “The only thing connecting me to Doug’s death was my fingerprints. You changed them, right?” He gazed into Older Ellie’s eyes. Then Younger Ellie’s. Then Brent’s. “You guys will find a way to get me out of prison. I’m innocent. Let me out of here now.”
Right outside the cave’s mouth, Sparks paced like an exasperated, caged beast.
“Get me some dynamite,” he commanded.
“You really going to do this?” said Kaiser. “You’re going to kill the kids in there?”
“Of course not,” said Sparks. “I’m just going to create a small explosion to give them that impression. They’ll come out like rats. Find out if anyone here’s an explosion specialist.”
William walked out of the cave, his arms in the air.
“Don’t shoot,” said William. He was filthy, his entire body covered with dirt, and mud was caked on his face and in his hair.
“Where are the others?” asked Sparks.
“It’s just me,” said William. “The others are home. I guess.”
“Nobody’s home, smartass,” said Sparks. “They’re all in there. Where were you hiding?”
“In a hole. Covered with mud.” William gestured to his body, pieces of soil and grime still dripping off him.
“No way. We checked everywhere.”
“Not everywhere. If you had, you would have found me.”
“Show me where you were hiding,” said Sparks. “Bring in some flashlights. The others are in there, and we must find them. They’re all going to jail.” William and five cops entered the cave, thin beams of light cutting through the darkness inside.
Way in the future, Zack entered the same cavern alone. In the not-so-far distance, the fighting seemed to have intensified despite the wee hours of the morning. Explosions shook him to the core, and the number of air raids overhead increased. Zack wondered how long his world would last given the seemingly heightened pace of war.
“Why is there so much war around these parts?” he whispered to himself. Even though the whole wide world was heavy into the global conflict, his little corner of planet Earth had been relatively spared thus far. This had brought on the speculation that General Homer was going to seize his own hometown last. “So we can watch it all to the bitter end in misery!” the local philosophers concurred.
Zack grabbed his e-news app. It was then his jaw dropped.
“Holy shit! I’m not in 2059 anymore.”
On the e-news pad, in small letters, he read the day’s date in the upper right corner: May 28, 2052.
“B
ut the war doesn’t even start until 2053.” Another blast shook the ground. “Yikes, that one was close.” He retreated into the cave and sat heavily on a rock.
He read through the e-news headlines.
“Military Battle Exercises near Home by the Department of Defense,” Zack read the title, his hand shaking, his heart pounding.
“General Harvey Homer, Director, Department of Defense, informed local authorities it would be appropriating the unpopulated areas of Tate County to perform battle exercises both from the ground as well as from the air. Citizens are cautioned about high-intensity blast sounds as well as low-flying aircraft in the area.’”
And then it all came to Zack. It all became clear. General Homer created a rogue army to battle the government against its policies of ever-increasing taxation with decreasing representation. He alleged that the government had become corrupt, fixing elections and dictating to the people about health care, financial matters, job creation, and much more. He claimed the United States’ administration had gone so far to the left-wing democracy that it had morphed into a socialist regime and, subsequently, all-out communism. At the time, Zack was a teenager, and he didn’t care. His mind was occupied with girls and dating. And sports. And even clothing. But not politics. Not policy. Not the seemingly empty threats made by General Harvey Homer that he would fix this country. Best Zack could tell, the country didn’t need fixing. Not as long as he could hang out with his friends and hook up with girls. He was happy. Until…
“Wait, why do I have these recollections?” he whispered. “Why so vivid? Why so…” It was then that he saw her standing in the darkness of the cave, her shiny red dress, white socks, and long silvery hair barely visible in the shadowy backdrop.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
The police repeated their thorough search of the cave to no avail. William showed Sparks the hole in the ground where he had hidden, a hole he had quickly grubbed on his way out of the cave. As he had done so, he had smeared dirt and mud all over his clothes and face.
Convinced no one else was hiding in the cavern, Sparks ordered that William be placed in the back of a squad car and transported to police headquarters.
When he arrived, he went looking for the ditsy new criminologist, the one who promised fingerprint analysis in a jiffy. But she was nowhere to be found.
“Hey, where’s your new girl, Merle?” he asked an older man in the CSI Department.
“You gotta do better than new girl, Sparks,” Merle said. “We got lots of new girls. Which one do you mean?”
“The old broad. About five foot six. Light brown hair. Talks too much.”
“First of all, at my age, none of them are old broads. They’re all about five-six. I don’t notice hair color. And they all talk too much, if you ask me.”
“Never mind,” said Sparks. “Where are my fingerprints on the gun I brought in earlier?”
Merle looked at the screen of the computer on his desk. “Not ready! Give us another couple of hours.”
“Couple of hours? I need those fingerprints now, goddamn it. This is a murder investigation. I need this information to do my job. Now! I was promised…”
Merle turned around and walked into another room, his head shaking. As he left he said, “And somebody else talks too much? You ought to look in the mirror, Detective.”
Sparks found himself alone, frustrated, and angry.
Mackenzie walked to the edge of the forest, where the trees abutted a neighborhood. Nobody around. There were multiple cookie-cutter single-family homes, all with small, empty driveways. All but one. In about the middle of the block, a small red car rested on a driveway. Looking in all directions, Mackenzie first walked toward, and then past, the parked vehicle. No one seemed to be home in any of the dwellings. As she passed the parked auto a second time a few minutes later, she scanned the car with her handheld scanner.
“Computer, scan this vehicle and provide access information.” Mackenzie continued to walk past the house with the car and found a park bench near a small playground. She sat down.
“Computing,” said the electronic voice. “This is an old-model Toyota Camry, built October 12, 2011, in Princeton, Indiana, by—”
“Computer, I just need to know how to gain access and drive it.”
“Computing.” A moment later, the voice returned. “Mackenzie, my connection to the Global Net is limited. Reason for this is unclear. Should I look into connectivity issues further at this time?”
“Computer, no. How do I get into the damn car?”
“With limited access to the Global Net, I am missing significant information and data on this vehicle. Access into this type of car used to take a keyless remote control, typically carried by the owner. Mackenzie, do you have such a keyless entry remote control unit?”
“Computer, I do not.”
“Would you like information as to where to obtain such a device?”
“Computer, no. Any other way to open the door and drive this car?”
“You can take a rock and smash it through the window,” said the computer voice, the tone unemotional. “Ha, ha, ha. I made a joke.”
“Not a very good one. Computer, this is no joking matter. Get me in this car and turn it on so I can get out of here. Learn how to do it, and quick!”
“Computing.” Several long moments passed. “I’m sorry, Mackenzie. I have limited information about this historical vehicle.”
“Computer, deduce from what you know and tell me, how you would do it if you needed to unlock and start up this car.”
“Computing. The locking mechanism to the door and the ignition use a radio signal in the range of—”
“Computer, can you reproduce the signal and open the door and turn the engine on?”
“I am capable of producing the typical range of the signal. However, this process may take several minutes.”
“Computer, commence the signal production to open the door. I will let you know when the door is unlocked. Then remember the signal signature it took so as to open the door in the future.”
“Understood. Advise me if the desired response occurs. I will scan the frequency range.”
Mackenzie could see the vehicle from her sitting position, only about thirty yards away. She grasped the small handheld unit with her right hand, which rested on her lap. Five minutes went by. Nothing. All of a sudden, Mackenzie heard a clicking noise coming from the car.
“Computer, I think you just unlocked the car door. I heard it click.”
“I will store this frequency for later use.”
Mackenzie walked to the car, opened the unlocked door, and sat inside.
“Computer, now let’s see if you can find the signal to turn on the car’s engine.”
“Commencing signal production in the anticipated range.”
It seemed forever until something happened, but finally the car engine turned over.
“There! Computer, you started up the car.”
“I will store this signal frequency for later use.”
Mackenzie studied the controls inside the vehicle. “Computer, find information on how to drive this thing and show instructional video.”
A knock on the window of the car startled her. Her heart thumped hard in her chest, and she gasped for air. Right outside the car was an older man, his face angry, his jaw clenched.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
William was placed in the interrogation room, a location he was somewhat familiar with since he had sat at that very table only a few days before. He was handcuffed to a metal ring that was soldered to the metal table, which was bolted to the cement floor. Detective Sparks entered and, without a word, sat down in front of him. He placed his Starbucks cup to his right and a closed folder to his left.
“Mr. William August Baten,” Sparks began. “There’s really one thing I want to know.” Sparks took a drawn-out sip from his coffee cup. “How did you go from being an A-plus student to a liar, thief, and murderer? And all of it, within a few w
eeks. How is it even possible?”
“The reason all of this seems so bizarre to you, Detective Sparks, is because it’s not true. None of it.”
“Well, the liar part is quite evident. Undeniable!” said Sparks. “The video showed conclusively that you lied and that you stole some drugs from Memorial Hospital. What I’d like to know is why you killed Douglas Payner.”
William shook his head pugnaciously. “I know it’s hard to believe, but I didn’t actually do any of these things. I think somebody drugged me. Somehow. I don’t recall any of those things you showed us on the video. And I know I didn’t kill Doug.”
Sparks sat up on his chair and looked William straight in the eye. “Well, maybe someone drugged you and you forgot the murder too?”
“No, I did not kill anybody,” said William, exasperation boiling up in his words.
“I didn’t expect you would just confess to the murder and make my day easier for me,” said Sparks, getting up from his chair and collecting the file. “You’ve been trouble from the word go! But I will prove you killed Payner, and I will recommend you get the death penalty for your troubles.”
Sparks left the interrogation room and walked briskly to the fingerprint lab.
“Do you have my fingerprints yet, Merle?” he asked.
“Yup,” said the older CSI man. “Got them right here for you. Let me find the paperwork.”
“Well, did you find fingerprints that identified the killer or not?”
“It’s all in the report,” said Merle, handing Sparks a piece of paper. “Kirk worked on this one, not me.”
Shaking his head, Sparks took the report and walked to his office.
When he arrived, he found two detectives sitting at their desks.
“No one we know,” said Sparks, anticipating the questions behind the inquisitive gazes facing him.
“I can’t believe it,” said one of the men. “Is it a mistake? You were so sure the prints on that gun would match one of the kids we were looking for all day.”
“They got a new old broad that’s as ditsy as all get out,” said Sparks. “I wouldn’t be surprised if she messed things up with my evidence. I’m going to have somebody else check her work. And man, is she in trouble if she screwed this up! Nobody messes with Dan Sparks.”
