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Slow Dreaming

Page 5

by Anne Barwell


  IT SEEMED to take a lifetime to reach the cafe. Jason burst in through the doors, heads turning in his direction as he looked around frantically for Sean.

  “Jason?” Sean looked up in surprise. He was wiping his hands on a tea towel. “Is everything okay?”

  “Yes. No.” Now that he was here, Jason didn’t know what the fuck he was going to do. He had to tell the truth, but it sounded crazy. “I need to talk to you. Please.”

  “Sure.” Sean glanced at Lisa, who nodded. “We have a while before we open. Grab a seat, and I’ll be out once I’ve set the dishwasher going.” He disappeared into the kitchen.

  Jason sat down heavily on one of the chairs. It wasn’t their usual table, he noticed idly, but one closer to the counter. The door to the adjacent bookshop was still closed; it apparently didn’t open as early as the cafe.

  The bell over the front door jingled. Lisa glared at the cup she was putting down in front of Jason. “We’re not open yet!” she called in the direction of the interruption. “Come back in ten… oh hell.”

  “Lisa?” Jason followed Lisa’s gaze and froze. He pushed the chair back. This couldn’t be right. This wasn’t supposed to happen yet. They were supposed to have one more day.

  One of the three men who had entered waved a gun toward them. He was tall and thickset and definitely the one in charge. “Sit down, and don’t move,” he ordered. The second man moved quickly to pull down the shades over the windows to hide the interior of the cafe from outside view. “Check out the back in case there’s anyone else out there.”

  Jason thought quickly. “Look,” he said. “We’re not going to cause any trouble. Just take what you want and leave. Please.”

  The words were a waste of time, but he knew that before he said them. These men were not after the little amount of cash in the till before opening. They were on the run from a murder scene with the Armed Defenders squad in pursuit.

  He’d read that part of the file before the assignment. That, and what would happen next.

  “Hey, I’m cooperating, okay?” Sean protested as the third man shoved him toward Jason and Lisa.

  “Found this one out in the kitchen,” Third Man said gruffly. “This appears to be it, though.” He pointed at Sean with his gun. All three of the fugitives were armed. It shifted the odds into their favor; an attempt to overpower them would be foolish and dangerous. “He says there isn’t anyone else.”

  “You’re telling the truth, yeah?” First Man walked up to Sean, scraping the barrel of his weapon across Sean’s cheek.

  Sean didn’t flinch. “Yeah, I am. I already told your friend that. Take whatever you want and go.” He took a breath. “Let these two go, and I’ll stay and be a hostage if you need one. You don’t need all of us.”

  “Yeah, right.” First man laughed. “Let them go so they’ll tell the cops exactly where we are.” None of the men were taking any trouble in hiding their appearances. They wore beanies under the upturned hoods of their sweatshirts, but nothing pulled over their faces to disguise them.

  Jason swallowed. No witnesses. There weren’t supposed to have been any witnesses. He wasn’t supposed to be here. Just Sean and Lisa, and if Sean hadn’t….

  He laid a warning arm on Sean’s arm. “Sit down, Sean, please. Don’t aggravate them. Please.” Don’t invite them to kill you. Please. They’re fucking planning to do that anyway.

  “Yeah, Sean. Don’t aggravate us. Please.” Second Man chuckled; it was a cold, hollow sound.

  Sean hesitated for a moment then sat on the chair between Jason and Lisa. Lisa mumbled something under her breath. Jason shot her a warning glance. She smiled at him shakily, but there was anger in it too.

  Outside sirens wailed, tires screeched. The flurry of noise was followed by an uneasy silence. The three fugitives glanced around warily. It didn’t take a genius to work out the conclusion they’d come to. Panic crossed Third Man’s face. He was younger than his companions, tall and slender, similar in build to Sean, but there was something wild about him, not quite right. “They’ve found us. Oh God.” The hand holding his gun shook. “I didn’t kill anyone, it wasn’t me. I’ll tell them it wasn’t me.”

  First Man snorted. “Yeah, sure, and where does that leave the rest of us? You were there. You might as well have pulled the bloody trigger.”

  “But I didn’t!” Third Man whined. He glanced toward the front door, then back at the hostages. “There’s a back door. There has to be a back door.” He took a step toward them. Stopped. “Where is it?”

  Second Man butted in. He was more soft-spoken than the other two, calmer. “Stop panicking. Everything will be okay. Phil and I have always looked after you, right? Just because we’re in this mess doesn’t mean we’re going to stop doing that.” He gave Phil a look. “Right, Phil?”

  “Whatever.” Phil shrugged.

  “Give yourselves up!” A voice boomed over a loud speaker outside the cafe. “You’re surrounded. We know you have hostages. Send them out, and we’ll go easier on you.”

  “Fuck!” Third Man began to lower his weapon.

  “Not bloody likely,” Phil muttered. “Don’t even think about it, Darryl. You go near that door and I’ll shoot you myself.” He pointed at Lisa. “You. Come here.”

  Sean shook his head. “No.” He stood. “Pick on the girl because she looks like an easier target, huh? How very brave of you.”

  “I don’t need protecting, Sean.” Lisa glared at him. She knew what Sean was trying to do. It was what he’d done the first time history had recorded this. He’d sacrificed himself to save a friend, lost his future because he couldn’t allow her to get hurt, to hell with the consequences.

  “Idiot,” Jason muttered. “Bloody fucking idiot.” He grabbed Sean’s arm and pushed him back into his seat. “You’re not doing this,” he growled. “Not this time.” This was not going to play out the same way. It couldn’t.

  Second Man raised an eyebrow. “If you guys have finished arguing about who is going to play hero here, I’d like to remind you that we’re the ones calling the shots, not you.” He indicated his weapon. “See this? It’s a gun, something that you don’t have.”

  “It makes you feel big and strong, does it?” Lisa retorted. Jason mentally rolled his eyes. It was better that than giving into his rising panic. If Sean wasn’t gay, he and Lisa would be so ideally matched. Each of them was as bad as the other when it came down to putting themselves in the line of fire to protect a friend.

  “Fucking bitch.” Phil’s voice rose. He yelled toward the door. “Yeah, we have hostages, and no, we’re not giving up. Want me to show you what will happen if you don’t let us go?” He pointed his gun at Lisa.

  Sean’s eyes widened in horror. “No!” he yelled. He pushed Lisa behind him, glaring at Phil. Lisa yanked at Sean’s shoulder, trying to pull him out of the way, but he refused, just standing there stubbornly. Phil grinned, adjusting his shot. His finger tightened on the trigger.

  “Sometimes it takes actions rather than words,” he drawled.

  “Sean!” Jason saw history begin to play out, almost in slow motion. Sean glanced up at the sound of his name, distracted. Jason launched himself, tackling Sean in a move that would have made a rugby player proud, knocking them both to the ground.

  Pain exploded in his side. Glass shattered around them. Phil dropped his gun, backing off. “I didn’t mean it! He got in the way. I swear he got in the way!”

  “Jason! No, God, no.” Sean was holding him, stroking his brow, Lisa at his side, a tablecloth in her hand, trying to get between them.

  It was getting more difficult to breathe, the edges of his vision growing black. He glanced down at the cloth Lisa was pressing against his side, frowning, trying to make sense of the crimson stain spreading across it.

  He smiled, leaning into Sean. “You’re okay,” he whispered. “I changed history. You’re okay.” They’d cheated death. This wasn’t the end of Sean’s life; he had a future now. James was going to be pissed. />
  “History? What history?” Sean cradled him closer, his words sounding sluggish, more distant. Around them, men barked orders, and Third Man began to whimper. Jason felt something salty on his cheek. Tears that weren’t his. “Jason? Jason! Don’t leave me! Please… I….” Sean’s voice cracked. “I love you.”

  Jason could hear music, Sean’s song, their song. He was slow dreaming. This was only one moment in time. He reached for it, losing himself in the words, the need, the promise behind them, and this time, instead of fading away, they reached for him, leading him into the light.

  HE WOKE slowly, aware that he wasn’t alone. His thoughts were foggy, an echo of pain through his body, hovering at barely arm’s length. He tried to move, couldn’t, and forced himself to calm.

  “You always did have a flair for the dramatic,” a familiar soft voice commented.

  Alisha?

  Jason opened his eyes, focused, and took a proper look at his surroundings. The first person he noticed, though, wasn’t Alisha, it was Sean. He was slumped in a chair, his head resting on the side of Jason’s bed, and he was asleep.

  Hang on a moment. Bed?

  Trying to move rewarded him with a bite of pain in his side and a disapproving “tsk tsk” from Alisha. She quickly steadied him, easing him into a sitting position, careful not to dislodge the needle that was feeding whatever into his system through the IV drip. “You’re recovering and full of drugs. Give yourself a minute.” Jason blinked, staring at her when he realized what she was wearing. She wouldn’t need to disguise herself as a nurse if they were in their own time.

  Damn it!

  Confusion washed over him, and he sank back against his pillow. If she was here, where was here? He glanced at Sean, making sure that part of whatever this dream was, was real. He looked down at himself, flinching as his fingers brushed against his bandaged side.

  Alisha sighed. “You’re still in the twenty-first century, Jason. And damn lucky that bullet missed any vital organs.” She shifted her attention to Sean, her expression softening. “He hasn’t left you since you were brought in. He told them he was your partner so they’d let him stay.” Sean shifted in his sleep, mumbling something under his breath before settling again.

  “He is,” Jason said quietly. “That is, I’d like him to be.”

  “You want to stay here, with him, don’t you?” Alisha turned an object over in her hands. It was Jason’s watch, his way home. Every field agent carried one, the outside mechanism camouflaged to blend in with the time period in which they were observing. It housed their recall device, which could be activated by either them or, if the situation was severe enough, the Tempus Institute.

  “Is that possible?” For the moment, he had more questions than answers. Although asleep, Sean’s brow furrowed then smoothed over again. His glasses had slipped down his nose; his hair was ruffled, as were his clothes.

  “Yes.” Alisha studied the watch some more, avoiding Jason’s gaze. “Time works in strange ways, Jason, you and I both know that. It’s not a straight line, like a lot of people think, but rather points on a circle.” Hence the tattoo they both wore. Sean had been right in a way when he’d thought of it as infinity. All of time was interconnected, and traveling through it was simple with the right knowledge and the equipment needed to bring two different points on the joined circles together.

  “You knew,” Jason realized. “The photo, Sean’s music, you knew.” He hadn’t changed history, this had already happened. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I didn’t know, not until after you’d left.” Alisha still avoided looking at Jason directly. “We were both kept in the dark. History had to play out. You’re a part of it, you always were.”

  “I was given sound files of his music, but I didn’t listen to them. What if I had and recognized the song?”

  “They wouldn’t have played for you. The files were faulty. James knew you well enough to know that you wouldn’t have followed up on it even if he had given you the time to do so.”

  Jason closed his eyes, trying to get his head around it. Learning about this stuff, knowing it could happen and actually experiencing it…. He’d never believed half of it, but now reality had hit him right between the eyes, to say nothing of capturing his heart. “But Sean was supposed to die, Ali,” he protested. “I read that part of the file. I saw the images and read the police reports.”

  “In an altered history, he did, Jason.” Alisha shook her head and leaned over, kissing his forehead. “You came back to put things right, to put things back on track. We don’t always just observe.” Her tone changed to one of amusement. “I suppose that was another lecture you either skipped or zoned out in?”

  “Hey, I didn’t do either of those.” Jason felt the need to defend himself. He raised his free hand to swat her as they always did, but it felt like lead. He opened his eyes; it took more effort than it should.

  “You should sleep,” Alisha chastised him softly. “Your recovery will be quicker than any of the natives, but your body still needs time to return to normal, just as theirs does.” She smiled at him sadly. “I’m going to miss you, but you have a good life, I know you do. Look after Sean, he’s a good guy. You both are.”

  “You’re leaving,” Jason murmured, his throat dry from all the talking, his focus beginning to wane again. “Will I see you again?”

  “Maybe, maybe not.” Alisha opened Jason’s watch, activating the recall device. Already she was beginning to fade, to return to her proper place in time. “Time will tell. We make our own future, Jason, don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

  “Goodbye, Ali.” Jason bit his lip, closing his eyes. Damn, he was going to miss her. He reached out his hand, felt someone take it, focused on the warmth of their grasp, and let himself drift.

  “Jason?”

  The voice he heard when he woke the second time was deeper, a man’s voice. Jason felt his lips lift into a smile; he whispered a name in return. “Sean.”

  Strong arms pulled him into an embrace, although Sean’s touch was gentle, cautious. Jason leaned into it, feeling safe, knowing that for the first time since he could remember his sleep had not been plagued with dreams promising him what he could not have.

  “God, I’ve been so worried.” Sean rubbed at his eyes. They were red. He retreated back to the edge of the bed and examined Jason closely. “You’re okay. You’re going to be okay. You scared me. I thought I’d lost you.” He shivered. “All that blood. I freaked out. The ambulance seemed to take forever.”

  Jason cracked a half grin. “Nah, I’m afraid you’re stuck with me.” He squeezed Sean’s hand. “That’s okay, isn’t it? I want to stay, if you’ll have me.” Despite what Alisha had said, he wasn’t about to presume anything. He’d tell Sean everything, the whole truth, however crazy it sounded. He deserved to know what he was taking on.

  “Of course I’ll have you,” Sean said softly. He shuffled closer, brushing his lips against Jason’s. “I love you, and I want a future with you, or at least try for one.”

  “That’s what I want too.” Jason returned the kiss, lingering. “Slow dreaming,” he sang softly, repeating the final words of Sean’s song. “I’ve found my moment in time.”

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  About the Author

  ANNE BARWELL lives in Wellington, New Zealand, sharing her home with her twin daughters, at least during the holidays, when one of them isn’t away at university. Her son has left home and started his own family, although she claims she is too young to be a grandmother already. Her three cats are convinced that the house is run to suit them; this is an ongoing “discussion,” and to date it appears as though the cats may be winning.

  In 2008 she completed her conjoint BA in English Literature and Music/Bachelor of Teaching and has worked as a music teacher, a primary school teacher, and a librarian. She is a member of the Upper Hutt Science Fiction club and plays piano for her local church and v
iolin for a local orchestra.

  She is an avid reader across a wide range of genres and a watcher of far too many TV series and movies, although it can be argued that there is no such thing as “too many.” These, of course, are best enjoyed with a decent cup of tea and further the continuing argument that the concept of “spare time” is really just a myth.

  Visit Anne at

  http://anne-barwell.livejournal.com.

  You can contact her at

  anne0@xtra.co.nz.

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  Copyright

  Slow Dreaming ©Copyright Anne Barwell, 2012

  Published by

  Dreamspinner Press

  4760 Preston Road

  Suite 244-149

  Frisco, TX 75034

  http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the authors’ imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Cover Art by Catt Ford

  This book is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution via any means is illegal and a violation of International Copyright Law, subject to criminal prosecution and upon conviction, fines, and/or imprisonment. This eBook cannot be legally loaned or given to others. No part of this eBook can be shared or reproduced without the express permission of the Publisher. To request permission and all other inquiries, contact Dreamspinner Press at: 4760 Preston Road, Suite 244-149, Frisco, TX 75034 http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/

  Released in the United States of America

  June 2012

  eBook Edition

  eBook ISBN: 978-1-61372-644-0

 

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