by Rebecca York
He tore his mouth away from hers and said. “We need to leave.”
“Right now?”
“Yes. Come on.”
He led her around some bushes, and she stopped short.
“That’s my car,” she gasped out. “Where did it come from?”
Chapter 14
It was his turn to feel a jolt of shock. “Your car?”
“Yes. How did it get here?”
“I bought it—and drove it here.”
“Bought it from whom?”
Jonah felt a shiver along his nerve endings. He had worried about this moment, but he’d thought he had more control over the revelation. “There’s a lot I have to tell you. But uh . . . when did you buy the car?”
“I got it used a few months ago. I needed transportation, and it was what I could afford. I had driven it to the camp. I thought it was still in Western Maryland.”
“Look back at the house,” he murmured.
“The house? We were talking about the car.”
“Uh huh.”
She turned and looked across the fields, leaning forward.
“Where’s the fire? I can’t see it.”
“We left it.”
She looked confused.
“I need to tell you where we are and why you can’t see the fire.”
“Why not?”
“Because it was put out a long time ago.”
“I don’t understand. What do you mean?”
“Let’s sit down.”
“Is this going to be something very bad?”
“Yes—and no.”
He escorted her to the passenger door, and she climbed into the front seat. He went around and slid behind the wheel, then turned to her.
“When I was trying to find you, I was having trouble figuring out where you were. Remember I asked you questions about what happened to you? I asked if Alice Davenport was your real name.”
“I remember.”
“That was because I couldn’t find anything about an Alice Davenport dying in an accident in Western Maryland.”
“Why not? That’s what he told me he cooked up. Was he lying about that?”
Instead of answering, he went on. “I restore old cars. I was working on this car—your car—when I heard your voice over the radio.”
“It’s not old. Well some people would say it was, but I thought it was a good deal for the money.”
Before he could untangle that for her, his cell phone rang. He pulled the instrument from his pocket and swiped his finger across the bottom of the screen.
“We’re all waiting to find out what happened. Did you get her out of there?” Grant asked.
“Yes. Alice is here with me. She’s fine.”
“Where are you?”
“Back at the car,” he answered, assuming Grant would know he was back in the twenty-first century if he’d answered the phone.
“It’s her car. She bought it used in ‘61.”
“That explains it.”
“Yeah.” He added, “I can’t talk now. We’ll be there soon.”
“Understood.” When he clicked off, he saw Alice watching him.
“Is that some kind of walkie-talkie?” she asked.
“Something like that.”
“You said I bought the car in ‘61. That’s this year, right?”
He felt his heart turn over. This was it. “No.”
“Then what?”
He swallowed hard. “You know I’m telepathic. That’s how I found you.”
“Yes.”
“When your voice came over the car radio, you were reaching across a lot of miles to find me. But it wasn’t just miles. It was years, too.”
She kept her gaze on him. “What do you mean?”
“You were in 1961. I wasn’t.”
She shook her head, grappling with that. “What year is it, then?”
When he told her the date in the twenty-first century she gasped. “No.”
“I’m sorry.”
She looked shell-shocked. “How?”
“I don’t know. But it happened, and I was able to come back and find you. I didn’t know what was really going on until yesterday. When we lost contact, I was following Hayward upstairs and into the kitchen and library. I found a calendar on the wall. I couldn’t get close enough to read the date, but I saw it was from the Carvertown Business Association—so I knew what town you were in. And I saw a very distinctive rock in the river. My friend Grant Bradley and I rushed over here in a helicopter, and the house was burned up. I thought I was too late. Then Grant pointed out it was an old fire.”
“Oh my God. You mean from when I burned it?”
“Yeah.”
As she started to shake, he pulled her close. He knew it was a lot to take in. He’d been just as shocked that morning when he’d realized what had happened.
“It’s going to be okay.”
“How?”
“We’ll figure it out.”
He felt her struggling for calm.
Raising her head, she searched his face. “And we can stay together?” she asked in a shaky voice.
“That’s what you want?” He felt like he was in suspended animation. It was what he wanted, with all his heart.
“Yes.”
Still, he had to say, “You don’t know me well enough to make that decision.”
“I think I do.”
“I think we need more time. And I’m hoping you can stay here with me. But this place is going to be very strange for you.”
He looked at the blue shirt she was wearing. “Maybe you want to put on some other clothes.”
“What am I going to wear?”
“I told you I’m with a security company. Decorah Security. I keep spare clothes in the car for when I need to be away from home. They won’t fit any better than what you’re wearing.”
“But they won’t be his.”
“Right.”
He brought her a tee shirt, a light jacket and sweatpants. “I’m sorry I can’t do anything about shoes. But a pair of thick socks will help.”
She climbed out, and he turned away while she pulled off the blue shirt and dressed.
“Okay.”
When he turned back, he said, “Very cute.”
“But you’re right, they’re too big.”
“Part of the cuteness.”
Suddenly he could see she was a little shy. It made him realize that she’d lived in an era before women’s lib and the sexual revolution. That was going to make her values a little different from his.
He dragged in a breath and let it out. “A lot will be familiar. Like those clothes. But in some ways you’re like Sleeping Beauty—without the sleep.”
“Like how?”
“We have all kinds of things you never imagined. Personal computers.” He laughed. “I think you didn’t have any computers at all.”
“Maybe big companies did. But I’m not sure what they are.”
“Machines that process information very fast. They used to take up a whole room. Now they fit into something like this.” He held up his cell phone. “It’s got a computer in it. A lot of things do. Cars. TV’s. Home security systems.” He laughed. “Even sewing machines.”
She nodded slowly. “What’s going to surprise me most?”
“Hum. Well, you can heat up food in a few minutes in a microwave. A lot of people order their clothes and anything else they need online and have it delivered.”
“Online?”
“Using high speed communications. Better than the Sears Catalogue—which is out of business. There are a lot of diseases that can be cured now.” He laughed. “From the sublime to the ridiculous, Elvis got to be a big star, but he got fat and died.”
“No!”
“A lot of people think he’s really alive and hiding somewhere. It’s a big folk legend. His home in Nashville is a shrine.” He thought for a moment. “And in other music news, Bob Dylan got the Nobel Prize for Literature.”
/> “You’re kidding.”
“Cross my heart and hope to die.”
There were a lot of other more shocking developments he could tell her about—like terrorism, police brutality, “group mentality” generated by social media, fake news, and climate change.
But he figured it was better not to jump into that kind of stuff.
Scrambling for something else she’d like to hear, he said, “They still have Milky Ways, Mounds, and Snickers bars.”
She tipped her head to the side. “Those are your candy bars of choice?”
“Yeah.” Switching back to business, he said, “I’d like to take you to Decorah Security headquarters. You can stay there for a few days while you decide what you want to do.”
Her features registered panic. “I’d rather stay with you.”
“My place isn’t exactly plush. It’s an apartment over an old garage.”
“That’s fine.”
“I hope so,” he answered. Did she want to stay with him because he was the only person she knew here? Or did she want to be with him as much as he wanted her?
“I told Grant we’d be starting back.”
She nodded, and he turned the key in the ignition.
His nerves were jumping as he made the two-hour drive back to Beltsville. On the way, he told Alice more about life in the twenty-first century.
Trying to think of big and little differences, he said, “They figured out cigarettes are bad for you. Hardly anyone smokes them. Some people switched to electronic cigarettes.”
Her brow wrinkled. “What are they?”
“They deliver nicotine vapor. That’s the active ingredient in tobacco.”
“Okay.”
“There are lots of fast-food restaurants—also not good for you.”
“Fast food? What is it and why is it bad?”
“It’s stuff you can get in a few minutes. Like McDonald’s. They had that in the fifties and sixties, right?”
“Yes.”
“Well, there are tons more. Other hamburger chains plus pizza, Mexican, even fish. But their meals are loaded with calories. The U.S. population is getting heavier.”
How had he gotten off onto talking about fast food? He felt like he was babbling, but he couldn’t settle down, and he kept trying to add more details about modern life.
“People dress more casually. And, I guess you could say society isn’t as civil.”
“What does that mean?”
“People are less polite. They curse more.”
“Tell me something good.”
“There’s a big movement not to raise and kill animals for their fur. Instead, there are very good synthetic furs. You don’t have to break your fingernails dialing a phone. They have push buttons. And you’re not tied to a phone cord. You can take the receiver out of a charging station and walk around the house with it. And, oh yeah, a ‘caller ID’ will show you who’s on the other end of the line before you answer.”
“That sounds good.”
“Well unless they don’t want you to know who they are. Then it might say ‘unknown.’”
Trying for more good news, he said, “We still have the old TV networks, but there are more than 300 channels.”
She blinked. “How is that possible?”
“You get them by cable—or with a satellite dish.”
“Which is?”
“An antenna that brings in wireless transmissions. Some channels have news all day. There’s a golf channel. A weather channel. Home and garden. Disney. A couple of channels that are like big commercials all day—designed to sell you everything from jewelry and china to fashions and toys.”
She shook her head, trying to take it in.
“And there’s so many other outlets for news and information that newspapers and magazines are going out of business.”
“Really?”
“Unfortunately.”
“And you don’t have to buy paper books. You read them on your phone or a tablet—which is a little bigger.”
oOo
As they turned onto an access road leading to Decorah Security, Alice stared at a line of long low buildings made of what looked like artificial stone blocks.
“Your company has all this?”
“No, we’re in an industrial park.”
“A what?”
“There are lots of businesses in these buildings. Technology firms. Service companies. We have several of the adjoining units here because we want to be unobtrusive. And the rent’s cheap.”
They pulled up in front of an entrance door with only a small sign giving the firm’s name.
When they got out, she whispered, “I’m nervous.”
“Don’t be. Everybody here is a friend.”
Still, she reached for his hand as they headed down a short sidewalk.
In the reception area, an older man with salt and pepper hair stepped toward them. His eyes were glowing as he clasped Jonah on the shoulder.
“You did it.”
“Yeah, I guess I did.” Jonah’s face broke into a broad grin.
Alice took in the exchange. She’d been so caught up in her own drama that she hadn’t thought about the enormity of what Jonah had accomplished. He’d rescued her in another time—then brought her home with him. Probably nobody had ever done it before.
As she was coming to grips with that reality, the man turned to her. His keen eyes searched her face. “I’m glad you made it here.”
His voice and his expression told her that he was thrilled that she’d arrived safe and sound.
“I’m Frank Decorah. We’ve all been anxious to meet you.”
“I’m glad . . . to be here,” she stammered.
“We’ll try not to overwhelm you.”
She nodded, seeing the other people in the room were hanging back. Two women and two men, none dressed the way she’d expect in a business office. All of them had on jeans and tee shirts or knit tops. The men looked like twins. And all of them seemed to be around Jonah’s age. One of the guys shook Jonah’s hand.
“Congratulations.”
“Yeah, well I couldn’t have done it if you hadn’t given me a lot of pointers.”
“But you’re the one who did the heavy lifting.”
Jonah nodded and turned to Alice. “This is Grant Bradley. He did something similar when his wife, Jen, was being held captive.”
“But not across any years,” Grant pointed out.
Jonah went on with the introductions—to Grant’s twin brother Mack. And their wives, Jen and Rachel.
“How are you doing?” Mack’s wife, Rachel, asked, and Alice sensed it wasn’t a casual question.
“Okay,” she answered. “Well, maybe stunned is a better way to put it.”
“You’ll settle in,” Rachel said. She cleared her throat. “I’m a physician. Jonah has kept us informed about what was going on with you. Now that you’re here, I’d like to give you a quick physical.”
Alice nodded, looking at the small crowd again. “I’m so grateful to be here.”
“It will take some adjustment,” Frank Decorah said. “Modern life has its advantages—and downsides.”
“Jonah was telling me some things.”
“We’re all here to help you.”
Rachel put a hand on her arm. “We should do the exam—so I can clear you for normal activity.”
Chapter 15
In the Decorah infirmary, which looked a lot like a doctor’s office, Alice sat on an exam table while Rachel—the doctor had said to call her Rachel—did a routine physical—listening to her heart and lungs, taking her blood pressure, testing her reflexes.
“All good,” she said as she made notations on a screen, using something that looked like a flat typewriter keyboard.
“Is that a computer?”
“Yes. I guess you haven’t seen one.”
“Only Jonah’s phone. He said that was a computer.”
“Yes. This is a laptop. It’s connected to a bigger data s
torage unit. I can make notes and call them up any time I want. And, of course, they take up less space than paper records.”
Alice nodded. “So you work for Decorah Security?”
“Yes. I run the Decorah facility for patients who are in a coma.”
“You do?”
“Yes. Their brains are all hooked up to a virtual reality.”
“A what?”
“A place that’s not real. It’s all electronic—inside a big computer.” She flapped her arm in frustration. “I’m no good at explaining the technical part. But it’s a very special program that Decorah is running. Although the patients are unconscious, from their point of view, they’re living in a very plush hotel.”
“I don’t understand.”
Rachel laughed. “It’s pretty unusual. Even for this day and age. One of the technicians can explain when we have more time. Right now I’m going to take some blood so we can check out things like your glucose level, your red and white cell counts, cholesterol and a few other things.”
“What’s cholesterol?”
“I guess the short answer is—fat in your blood.”
“I haven’t had much fat lately. He had me on a healthy diet,” she said, not wanting to use the man’s name.
Rachel picked up on that and said, “Jonah told Grant the guy was going to hunt you—like exotic game.”
She shuddered. “Yes. He told me he’d killed five other women.”
“And you escaped.”
“I wouldn’t have—without Jonah. He figured out that the guy put a tracker on me. He wasn’t going to let me get away. He knew exactly where I was. He must have played the same game with the other women—letting them think they had a chance to escape.”
“That’s pretty horrible.” Rachel cleared her throat. “I have to ask—did he abuse you?”
Alice gave the doctor a direct look. “If confining me in a cell, giving me tasteless food, and forcing me to exercise my head off is abuse, then yes. But if you mean—did he rape me? No. It seemed like keeping me under his control and planning the hunt was the way he got his pleasure out of the situation.”
“And you came through it.”
“I think I was resigned to staying alive as long as I could—before the end.”
The doctor drew in a breath.
