Missing Time (313)

by J. David Clarke

  Brandon twirled around in glee. "This is freaking' awesome! We're the X-Men, dude. We're like the freaking' X-Men!"

  "We're not the X-Men. And please read a real book."

  "Seriously? We're totally the X-Men. I'm like Cannonball and Northstar had a love child. Which is NOT out of the realm of possibility, by the way, if you know what I mean..."

  "Thankfully, I do not."

  "And you teleport, right? So you're like Nightcrawler, mixed with...I dunno...Slyde?"

  "Please don't tell me who that is."

  "He's...kind of a lame old Spider-Man villain."

  "You did anyway. Thanks."

  "Best I could come up with buddy, sorry!" Brandon was giddy with excitement. "Okay, we have to come up with our superhero names!"

  Kevin sighed. "Brandon, you need to listen to me very carefully..."

  "Mine could be Missile something, but I think all the good missile words are taken: rocket, torpedo. I could go space stuff but all that's taken too: comet, meteor..."

  "Brandon!" Kevin grabbed him by the shoulders. "WE...ARE NOT...SUPERHEROES. This is not a comic book, and we are not using superhero names."

  Brandon was silent for a moment. "Ah, you're right. I'm faster than all those guys put together, anyway! I smoke all those fools! ...Movie?"

  Kevin sighed. "Jerry Maguire."

  "Damn."

  "Please watch a new movie."

  Brandon ran a hand through his hair. "This has to be because of the spaceship."

  "Oh my God, not that again."

  "No, really, listen to me. This can't be a coincidence. And it can't just be you and me. It can't."

  Kevin reluctantly nodded.

  Realization came to Brandon. "We have to find them."

  "Who, the aliens?"

  "No..." Brandon knew what they had to do. "We have to find the kids from the bus."

  *****

  Simon doubled over.

  "It's happening again," Heather cried.

  Brandon turned away from the scientist. "What's happening to him?"

  "I don't know," she said. "He just...he gets worse."

  Simon threw his head back in a fit of pain, and his brow had noticeably thickened. His mouth opened wide, revealing his teeth, the canines thrusting forth and widening before their eyes. He emitted a savage howl of agony.

  "What did they do?" Brandon asked no one. "What did the aliens do to you?"

  *****

  EXCERPT FROM "IDIOT SYNCRATIC"

  I've managed to track down three more names and pictures. Google, Facebook, you name it, I've used it.

  The thing is, it's starting to look like I'm not the first person to think of tracking us all down. Two of the kids I've identified, Mia and Simon, have already gone missing. No one knows what happened to them. And that's not all. Simon was hospitalized before he disappeared, and I can't find out what he was being treated for. Strange illnesses, mysterious disappearances. It's all a little too Fringe for comfort. If all the kids on the bus started developing powers like Kevin and me, it was only a matter of time before we started attracting attention. Maybe the wrong kind of attention.

  Frankly, it may have been a bad decision for me to start posting this blog. But I have to get the truth out there. The world needs to know what happened that night, about the spaceship, the aliens, the powers...all of it.

  If something happens to me and Kevin, I want there to be some kind of record. I want the world to know why.

  The latest girl I've found is named Becca Miller, and she still lives here in town. I'm going to see if I can talk to her. Maybe she knows about Mia and Simon. Maybe she'll remember something about that night, something that can help us.

  Okay, okay, the truth is, I saw her pictures on Facebook, and this girl is SMOKING HOT.

  So whether she can help us or not, I'm definitely going to talk to her. :)

  Wish me luck!

  *****

  Brandon hadn't been able to find out where Becca lived, despite all his efforts, but he had identified a couple of Becca Miller's usual haunts, and he and Kevin had split up the chore of watching for her. It had taken some convincing, but Kevin had finally agreed to keep an eye out for her at a dance club near the edge of town, since he could at least get a drink there while he waited.

  Brandon had taken the mall, and he found himself wandering the mall like one of those old people who goes there to walk. It had taken all his strength to stay out of the comic shop and instead check out the clothing stores.

  When he saw her, he could hardly believe it. But even more surprising was what was happening around her. People carried clothes to her, pulling them right off the racks and holding them for her to try on. She was changing right there in the middle of the store, pulling off one top to try another, which a waiting helper was there to give.

  They aren't all clerks, either, he thought, looking at them. Some of them looked like skater kids who had wandered in and just started helping her try on clothes.

  She's doing something to them, he realized.

  He approached slowly.

  "Um, hi..." he said. She spun to face him, and he was stunned by her amazing green eyes. "Hi," he repeated. "Becca Miller? My name's Bran-UGKK"

  His throat had forcibly closed itself! Brandon struggled to speak and couldn't. He struggled to MOVE and couldn't. Becca's green eyes seemed to fill his vision.

  SSHUT THE FUCK UPP

  Whoa, he thought, is that her voice? I'm hearing her voice in my head.

  YYOU CATCH ON QUICK, DORKK

  Brandon was unable to stop himself. His body walked itself over and helped her put back on her shirt. Okay. Okay. This is weird. She's a telepath. Professor X. She can speak to people in their minds. Maybe you can hear me. Can you hear me?

  She smiled, a quick thing, which brightened her beautiful face.

  HHAHA...YEAH I CAN HEAR YOU. YOU'RE SMARTER THAN THESE ASSHOLES. THIS IS ALL THEY DO, LISTENN

  The green eyes in his mind cracked open and words flooded Brandon's head: Helphelphelppleasehelpstophelppleaseohgodhelpplease!! A cacophony of male and female voices so panic-stricken and afraid that it made Brandon's skin crawl.

  PPATHETIC, HUHH? Her voice was openly amused.

  Look, this is really really not cool. This is villain stuff. You need to stop this.

  His body got down on his knees in front of her. The green eyes were everywhere in his mind.

  VVILLAIN STUFF? YOU'RE A FUCKING JACKASS. I DECIDE WHAT I NEED TO DO AND WHAT I DON'TT

  His body bent over, and when she proffered the sole of her boot for him, he kissed it.

  NNOW GO AWAY, AND DON'T COME BACKK

  Wait, listen to me, the same thing happened to both of us! We were on the--

  Brandon felt his power kick in and he blasted through the mall, shattering the drywall, and splintering the wood in the store wall. Bricks from the outer wall of the shopping mall showered in his wake, landing on the cars below.

  *****

  EXCERPT FROM "IDIOT SYNCRATIC"

  Okay, THAT could have gone better.

  *****

  "He's kind of like, what if Conan the Barbarian had an Iron Man suit," Brandon said, describing the latest issue of the comic he was reading.

  Kevin nodded silently.

  "Only the suit's alien. All his powers were designed by the aliens, only he ends up fighting them for Earth."

  "Okay," Kevin said.

  "Ugh. You're not even listening."

  "Nope," Kevin agreed.

  Brandon shook his head. They were seated near the back of the bus, which was slowly filling up. Brandon went back to thinking about the comic. The flying, the super-powers, and of course, the aliens.

  The bus pulled away from the curb.

  *****

  As the bus sank, light surrounded it, and Brandon saw the ship before him, glowing through the windshield.

  The light carried him forward, and he was flying through the night, flying into the darkness, away from the bus. How he
got outside, he did not know, but there he was, and he was zooming through the sky toward the ship, which waited in space and signaled him on.

  On he flew, and the light surrounded him.

  *****

  "And...and that's all." Brandon said. "I've tried so hard, but I can't remember anything else. I must have been aboard the ship; the aliens must have taken me somewhere. Taken all of us."

  "There were no aliens!" said a deep gravelly voice.

  Brandon turned to see Simon leap over the lab table and land in front of him. His hair, fur, whatever it was, had thickened around his face, so that his appearance was more like a gorilla than a man. He flicked his eyes, and Brandon felt an unseen force lift him off the ground and carry him away from the scientist, dropping him several feet away.

  Simon lowered himself to lean forward onto his hands, and looked the scientist in the eye. He made apelike grunting sounds and sniffed at him.

  "There were no aliens," he repeated, and then turned to look at them. "This has nothing to do with aliens. It has to do with people like him."

  Brandon shook his head. "I know it sounds crazy, but I'm telling you, I know what I saw." The image of the ship was crystal clear in his mind. "Whatever these guys have done, I don't think they're behind what happened to us."

  Simon growled. "There was no ship. Science made us what we are. He did this."

  *****

  Brandon's face was growing hot from the exertion. He couldn't keep this up much longer. Worse, he knew he was at his limit. He couldn't go any faster. He could see it wasn't working, though. He was going to die, here, in the inky blackness of the void. It was right there in front of him, but it might as well be a mirage. A beautiful blue and green sphere, so close, and yet much too far.

  The Earth sped away from him, and left him behind.

  CHAPTER THREE

  SIMON

  "That thing is not our son."

  The wooden bat met the ball with a satisfying CRACK! and sent the ball hurtling through the air. Simon watched it go up, up, and finally plummet to earth beyond the tree line. He smiled broadly as he heard the other kids gasp in amazement.

  He began his trot around the baseline, grinning ear to ear. Everyone was watching him. Everyone loved him. Everyone.

  "Simon!" Harold Chu's stern voice shattered his daydream. "Eat your food."

  Simon picked up his fork and pushed the vegetables around on his plate. His mother made only healthy meals, and she cooked them well, but Simon wasn't interested in food.

  "May I be excused?" he asked.

  His father looked disgusted. "No, you may not. Your mother," he indicated her, sitting across the table from him, with her eyes lowered, "worked very hard to make this dinner, and you will be respectful and eat it."

  Not wanting to disrespect his mother, Simon put a bite of carrot and potato into his mouth. He chewed it thoughtfully, pondering new ways to get out of eating and back outside to play.

  His father seemed to know what he was thinking. "After dinner, you will not go outside. You and I will sit down and I want to see you study." He reached a hand out to pat the biology textbook sitting at the corner of the table.

  "I already finished all my homework," Simon said plaintively.

  His father sighed. "You have gotten Bs on your last two tests. You need to study so you can do better. That's how you get accepted to the best schools."

  "I could get in on a baseball scholarship. Everyone says so."

  "You will not play that insipid game. Why do you think we worked so hard to get you into the pre-A.P. classes? So you can play some barbaric sport? No."

  "It's not barbaric! I'm good at it."

  "Sports are for savage animals." He reached over and slapped his hand down on the textbook, hard. "Science, Simon! Learning! That is how human beings evolve!"

  *****

  "Simon," Heather said, "turn around."

  "No," he answered, his voice muffled. He had turned away from the scientist, burying his face in the corner. "I don't want you to see me like this."

  "It's okay," she said.

  "Maybe I can help," said one of the other guys: Zachary, his name was.

  "No one can help me," Simon said. He sniffled, through the hole of his apelike nose. "I'm a monster. They made me into a monster."

  *****

  A fetid smell filled his nostrils. Simon opened his eyes.

  He was lying on his side in a small rocky enclosure. He sniffed, and the smell of feces and mildew made him gag. He brushed dirt from his face and looked around. He was naked; the matted hair that covered his body was caked with wet dirt.

  He sat up, only to be met with a vicious throbbing from the back of his head. It radiated around his temples, and Simon clasped his head with his hands. It hurt. Oh, how it hurt.

  Where am I? he wondered. The last he remembered, he had been headed somewhere with Heather...running through halls. Kevin had been there, and...

  The scientist. He did something to me.

  Outside the small enclosure, he saw a larger space, surrounded by rocky walls. The smell wasn't the only sign that something was wrong. There were sounds, animal sounds.

  Simon was not alone.

  *****

  He was studying his textbook when the bus swerved the first time. Heather was next to him, her arm wrapped around his, her head on his shoulder. At first, he was merely annoyed by the swerving motion, thinking the driver had avoided a pothole. He tried to turn his attention back to the book, but his mind couldn't focus. Evolutionary biology, mitochondrial DNA, it was all too much.

  He thought back to the crack of the bat hitting the ball. Everyone looking at him. Everyone shouting his name.

  *****

  When they pulled Simon from the water, he sputtered and gasped. He tried to talk, but nothing that came out of his throat many any sense. He was loaded onto a gurney and put in the back of an ambulance.

  "I'm here, Simon," Heather said from beside him, holding his hand. "I'm right here."

  Strapped to the gurney, Simon twisted and shook, his head jerking left to right as he felt shocks pass up his body.

  "Do something!" Heather said.

  The E.M.T. in the back reached into a kit and withdrew a syringe. He reached forward to inject something into Simon's arm.

  Simon roared, and something stopped the man's arm. He struggled with it for a moment, bewildered, as his hand was pushed away from Simon against his will. Then Simon's head fell back in exhaustion, and the man was able to move again.

  "What the hell was that?" the man asked, as he stabbed Simon's arm with the needle and pushed the plunger down. Heather shook her head.

  "It's okay, Simon. You're going to be okay. I love you."

  Blackness swam over Simon, and he faded from consciousness as the ambulance sped through the night.

  *****

  When the bus swerved again, the tension in Heather's arm brought Simon out of his reverie. As he looked around, and saw the swirling lights around the bus, his mouth dropped.

  Flashes then, cascading through his mind: A man with a surgical mask. A steamy jungle. A city of wood. Scalpels. Pain.

  A shock passed through his body, and his hands jerked open involuntarily. The textbook slid through his fingers and fell from his lap. The bus rushed forward toward the bridge.

  *****

  On the baseball diamond, Simon again saw the ball as if it hovered before him. He swung the bat, again connecting with the sound he loved so much. CRACK! The ball sailed through the air, and Simon didn't even wait. He knew where it was going. He began running the bases, his smile wide on his face. He rounded first, slapping it with his hand.

  No one cheered.

  As he rounded third, Simon thought to wonder why they were silent, and he slowed. There was chalk on his right hand. Simon stopped. It was chalk from the third base line, and his mind struggled for a moment to understand why that should be. Finally, he knew, and stood, brushing the chalk away.

  He had
been running on his hands and feet, loping forward like...like an animal.

  Everyone was looking at him.

  Simon felt a jolt pass through his body, and he howled in pain. It felt like his head was trying to tear itself apart from inside. He fell to the ground, and people were rushing to him now, surrounding him. "Call 911!" he heard one kid say. Simon looked down at his hands, where the dirt and chalk had been, to find the first tufts of black hair sprouting.

  He leaped up, and his mind reached out. It was like giant hands, pushing the crowd of boys away from him. They tumbled backwards.

  Simon ran all the way home.

  *****

  He slowly emerged from the enclosure, his head throbbing. Almost immediately, he saw them. Gorillas, three of them, rushed from somewhere to look him over. One of them was a huge, powerfully muscled male, who roared at Simon.

  Simon held up his hands, trying to signal that he meant no harm. He looked around, but only saw the circular rock wall that surrounded them. Was there light above? A way out? It hurt his eyes to look.

  The big male advanced on him, beating his chest.

  *****

  Simon was lying on the bed, his face to the wall, when his father entered. "That girl was here again," he said as he sat down at the edge of the bed.

  "Heather," Simon corrected him.

  His father acted as if he hadn't heard. "She asked to see you. I've told her you need your rest and to leave you be."

  Simon said nothing. Micro-jolts of pain were passing up his back, and he felt his muscles twitch just under the skin.

  "Simon, there will plenty of time for girlfriends. Right now you need to focus on your studies."

  When Simon didn't respond, he continued, "Why were you there? We talked about this fantasy you have about these sports games."

  "You talked," Simon said under his breath. His voice was a rasp.