Time Echoes

by Bryan Davis

  Just as Clara rose from her seat, Jack stormed up the aisle, latched on to Gordon’s wrist, and pulled the dagger away. As Gordon swung around to fight, the blade swiped against Kelly’s shoulder and dug deeply into her sweatshirt. Jack wrestled Gordon to the grass, toppling chairs on the front row as they rolled to the side.

  I lunged and grabbed Kelly’s wrist, but Mictar wrapped an arm around her chest and pulled back. As we fought for control, blood dripped down her arm and over my fingers, but I ignored her wound and held on. I couldn’t let him have her.

  Three men from the audience rushed to help Jack subdue Gordon while two others leaped toward Mictar. He released Kelly and shot jagged streaks of blackness from his palms that slammed against the faces of the would-be rescuers. They collapsed and quivered on the ground, the blackness steaming like hot tar.

  I pulled Kelly into my arms. The first three rescuers hauled Gordon upright. A trickle of sweat drew a purplish line down his cheek, exposing part of a bruise. Jack struggled to his feet. A bloody gash stretched across his forehead.

  Mictar spread out his arms. Darkness coalesced in his palms as if ready to shoot black streams into the crowd. “Son of Solomon, heed my warning. If you take one step toward your mother, I will make these people suffer.”

  As cold gusts breezed through, everyone hushed. I pivoted toward the mirror. The image shifted forward another few inches and stopped. Mom and Dad, their bodies filling the screen, stretched out their arms.

  A voice again punched through the barrier. “I’m sorry for leaving you alone on stage,” Mom said. “We had to change places with the Blue Shepherds before it was too late. Since Mictar had killed them earlier, we used their bodies to make him think we were dead, too. Pull us home and we’ll explain everything.”

  “No,” Mictar hissed. “Do not bring that woman here.”

  His motives finally registered. Now that Mom was free of her bonds and armed with a violin, he was scared of her.

  The mirror image slowly contracted. Mom and Dad slid backwards. They shrank with the reflection, their hands grasping empty air. A strong gust ripped the canopy away from the stakes and sent it flying across the cemetery. Biting wind squealed through the funeral party, and heavy snow cascaded from the skies.

  Releasing Kelly, I leaped toward the reflective barrier, plunged my fists through, and grabbed Mom’s hand while Dad and I locked wrists. I set my feet and pulled, but they moved only a few inches. With my feet slipping on the dampening grass, it was like dragging two anchored bodies through thick mud.

  A scream made me glance back. Mictar held Kelly from behind and poised a hand over her eyes. “Cease your efforts, Shepherd, or she will die.” Sparks of electricity arced from Mictar’s hand, drilling pinpoint scorch marks on Kelly’s forehead as more blood dripped from the ends of her fingers.

  She cried out in a plaintive moan. “Rescue them, Nathan! I’m not worth it!”

  “Silence!” Mictar roared.

  Snow swirled between the mirror and me. My parents’ hands and forearms were now on my side of the barrier, their faces close. The crystalline dividing wall magnified every line in their frantic expressions.

  I whispered, “I need time to decide. Where’s the girl in red when I need her most?”

  Something popped. Blackness filled the sky and poured around me until I stood in a dark room. A glass window hovered within reach at each side, both of them the original size of the mirror at the funeral. The views showed the funeral scene, daylight from within providing the only illumination in my chamber.

  In both windows, Mictar stood like a statue with Kelly in his grasp while the audience looked on. A copy of myself held to Mom and Dad through the shrunken mirror I had reached into to grab them, the scene frozen as if suspended in time.

  I peered through the window to my left. Another copy of myself looked back at me — a reflection in the glass. As I stared, my eyes flashed. White beams poured forth and splashed against the glassy surface. My image in the mirror activated and jerked my parents through the barrier. They lurched into the funeral scene and sprawled over the ground. Mictar let out a raging scream. Fire sizzled under the hand he held over Kelly’s eyes.

  While Mom and Dad struggled to their feet, Mictar glowed with a shimmering light and vanished. Kelly collapsed in a heap, her limbs and torso limp.

  As if in a slow-motion dream, my parents embraced my copy. Blood pooled under Kelly, and her body quivered fitfully, her scorched eye sockets staring straight up. After a few seconds, her death throes ceased, as did all other movement within the window.

  In the other window, the funeral scene stayed frozen in the position I had I left it, my copy’s hands still locked on my parents. I resisted the urge to stare at it. Animating that scene might result in even more tragedy.

  I pivoted in a slow circle. What was this place? And how did I get here? Cupping my hands around my mouth, I called, “Can anyone hear me?”

  My words echoed several times before fading to silence.

  Footsteps sounded from the darkness, followed by a voice. “I can hear you.” A tall man with white hair walked into the light and stopped, his hands folded over his waist.

  I mouthed the man’s name. Patar.

  “The power you call Quattro awaits your decision,” Patar said.

  I blinked. “My decision?”

  “You wanted time to decide. That request has been granted. You have the luxury of seeing the results of one of your options.”

  I looked through the window that had animated. A tear dangled from Mom’s chin. Love flowed from her eyes along with pure joy at being reunited with me. Dad, too, seemed filled with joy, yet, with his jaw set like steel, he was ready to go to war.

  In contrast, Kelly’s black eye sockets looked like deep chasms — vacant, abandoned, forsaken. Her ravaged face reflected the sightless countenance of a terrified girl, wandering in futility, only to suffer and die in the midst of life’s greatest search, lost forever.

  Patar spoke again. “It is time to decide, son of Solomon. If you save your parents, your friend will suffer the fate you see before you.”

  I touched the glass. “What will happen to her if I don’t save them?”

  “Since there are multiple options, the results remain to be seen. You will learn the outcome only after you choose. But the moment I return you to the funeral, you must act.”

  “How much time do I have to decide?”

  Patar crossed his arms. “Ample time, but I will not allow you to dawdle.”

  “Will you tell me what’s going on?” I spread out my hands. “What is this place? What kind of beings are you and Mictar? And who is the girl in red I keep seeing?”

  “This place and my species are not for you to know, but the girl in red is relevant to your circumstances. She is your supplicant, a Sancta who wields much power and has helped you thus far. Unfortunately, she is in danger, yet out of your reach. As soon as I finish here, I will see if I can go to her aid. Therefore, the longer you tarry, the longer she suffers. If I am able, I will update you regarding her status at a later time.”

  I swallowed. “Okay. Send me back. I’m ready.”

  Patar vanished. I flew into the window that had not animated and found myself where I was before, my grip locked on my parents, Kelly in the clutches of Mictar, still alive, still struggling.

  I released my grip and lunged at Kelly. With a whip of my neck, I bashed my forehead against Mictar’s nose, sending him flying backwards. As he slid along the ground, dark blood gushed from both nostrils.

  Pulling Kelly, I ran toward the mirror’s contracting bubble, then released her and dove headfirst across the snow. My hands penetrated the reflection once again. In the other world, Dad dropped to his knees and grabbed my wrists. His lips moved, but his voice no longer broke through.

  Kelly called from behind, her voice weak and shaking. “Pull, Son! Pull!”

  I rose to my feet and pulled with all my might. A hand slapped over my eyes. Mictar
spoke in a hideous, throaty voice. “Now, Solomon, you will watch your son die.”

  Painful needles of light shot into my eyes. Dad’s fingers slipped away. I lurched backward, knocking Mictar’s hand to the side. With a violent spin, I thrust an elbow into his stomach and kicked him in the groin.

  He staggered back, his eyes pulsing like red beacons. Five men lunged toward him, but, when he lifted his hands, new streams of blackness shot from his palms. Four of the men hesitated, but Jack leaped onto his back and pounded on both shoulders with his fists.

  Carrying his stocky attacker, Mictar staggered toward the mirror. The image from the other world had become a flat reflection, showing Mom and Dad staring out, hand in hand, tears streaming down their cheeks. Mictar rushed into the mirror and disappeared with Jack in a splash of light.

  At their entry point, a long crack etched the glass and branched out in all directions. The square in the bottom left corner popped off. Like crinkling cellophane, the rest of the mirror rippled, then crumbled and fell in sparkling shards that left the supporting wall standing bare.

  I dropped to my knees and slapped the ground, raising a splash of slushy snow. I almost had them! Just another second, and I would have pulled them out of there!

  Kelly laid a hand on my forearm, patting my sleeve as if searching for something. “Oh, Nathan, I’m so sorry.”

  I took her hand and held it against my cheek. As I shook, her blood-covered palm slid across my skin. “It’s not your fault. It’s mine. I had a chance to pull them out.” I dared not mention that I could have sacrificed her life for their freedom.

  Police sirens wailed in the distance, drawing my gaze to the onlookers. Several men escorted Dr. Gordon away, two in front, three in back, and two on each side.

  I growled, “What did you do with Gordon Red?”

  Gordon Blue sneered but said nothing.

  Clara slid her arms under mine and helped me up, while Daryl hoisted Kelly to her feet. “We need to get both of you to a hospital,” Clara said.

  I brushed off my clothes. “I’m fine. Just Kelly. She’s hurt pretty bad.”

  Staring into space, Kelly touched the wound on her shoulder. “I’ll go, but we’d better find Gordon Red. He might need a hospital, too.”

  I waved a hand in front of Kelly’s eyes. “Can you see okay? You look kind of dazed.”

  She shook her head. “Everything’s foggy and dark.”

  I intertwined my fingers with hers, ignoring the streams of blood. “Let the police find Gordon. You’re going to the hospital, and I’m not leaving your side.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Clara stood on Kelly’s left as she sat propped up on the hospital bed. I stood on the right, pulled my sweatshirt hood back, and leaned over the metal side rail, holding a wrapped bouquet of long-stemmed pink roses. “I have something for you.” I pushed the blossoms under Kelly’s nose. “Like them?”

  She took a long sniff, then folded her hands over her flowery hospital gown. The material draped her torso loosely, sagging at her right shoulder and exposing a wide bandage. “All I smell is the bacon in your cheeseburger. I’m so hungry I might just eat those flowers.”

  I reached the roses over to Clara, scrunched the top of the fast-food bag I had left on the serving table, and hid it behind my back. “What cheeseburger?”

  Kelly stared into space, her eyes framed by dozens of black scorch marks. “What cheeseburger? The one that’s shouting along with the fries in your bag.” She cupped her hands around her mouth and deepened her voice. “Give me to Kelly! I must be eaten by Kelly!”

  “So now you’re hearing talking fries.” I set the bag in front of her. “Can you read the label?”

  She shook her head. “I think my vision’s improving, though. I can recognize you and Clara, but you’re both kind of ghostly.”

  “I’m so tired I feel kind of ghostly.” I pushed the bag into my sweatshirt pocket. “But improved vision is a great sign.”

  “Indeed it is.” Clara pulled up her trench-coat sleeves, unwound the green paper that held the rose stems together, and pushed them into a long-necked vase. “Your dinner will be here soon, a nice post-surgery helping of something soft and digestible.”

  Kelly rolled her eyes. “Baby food, right?”

  “No,” I said, grinning. “I saw the can. It’s top-of-the-line dog food.”

  “Good. That beats mashed peas any day, but I’ll be glad to trade you half of mine for half of yours.”

  “I wouldn’t think of it. I’m too much of a gentleman to deprive you of even one morsel of such a treat.”

  “Oh, hush, you two,” Clara said. “You’re about as funny as a lanced boil.”

  Daryl popped into the room, a lively bounce in her step. As she lowered her hood, she shook out her thick red locks. “Brrr. It’s cold out there this morning. Must be January or February on Yellow.”

  “Did you get the photos?” I asked.

  “Right here.” She tossed a packet onto the bed. “They salvaged some of the film, but the camera’s a goner.”

  I grabbed the packet. “Did you already look at them?”

  Glancing away, Daryl leaned against the bed. “What kind of girl do you think I am?”

  Kelly snatched the packet from me. “Insatiably curious. Nosy. An incurable snoop.”

  Daryl turned back and smiled. “Yeah. That’s all true. But I sneaked just one peek, and I couldn’t figure out what I was looking at.”

  After opening the packet’s top, Kelly slid the inner envelope onto her chest. “It’s thin. Only a few pictures.”

  “Just four,” Daryl said. “The rest of the roll was fried.”

  Kelly withdrew three photos from the envelope and lined them up across the sheet. “I thought you said there were four.”

  “I did.” Daryl shrugged. “Sorry. I just glanced at them. My mistake.”

  Kelly pointed at the photo on her left. “I see four people, so that’s the first one I took at the plane crash site. It should show the woman who asked me to take the shots, a husband and wife, and Jack in the background. Is that right?”

  I leaned close. “Yeah, but it looks strange, like there’s some kind of glow around them.”

  “Maybe that’s the cosmic holes forming — the fractures Dr. Gordon talked about. Maybe all six of them came across to Earth Red.”

  “Maybe.” I brushed a fingertip across Jack. It was a good thing he came. Who could tell what would’ve happened at the funeral without him?

  Kelly pointed at the second photo. “This should be the one I took of the wreckage. You and that author should be in it.”

  “We are. We’re standing near a pile of twisted metal and wires, and he has the same aura, but I don’t.” I picked up the last photo, a shot of the funeral scene — the mirror with Mom playing her violin within the reflection. Behind her, sheer drapes covering a window had blown outward, exposing the sill where two hands with long white fingers gripped the wood. Glowing red eyes looked toward us. Patar was preparing to make his entry, though how he transported me to that dark room remained a mystery that I had not yet told anyone about.

  I showed the photo to Kelly. “Can you see that face and those hands on the sill? It looks like Patar.”

  “We’ll have to get an enlargement so I can see it better.” She settled back on her pillow and sighed. “Too many questions and not enough answers.”

  “Maybe Dr. Gordon will have some answers when he comes.”

  “He’s in the waiting room,” Daryl said, motioning toward the door with her thumb. “They wouldn’t let more than three visitors come in, so he’s waiting for one of us to leave.”

  Kelly, Clara, and I stared at Daryl.

  She raised her hands, smiling as she backed away. “That’s okay. I understand. You don’t have to knock me over the head.” She blew Kelly a kiss. “Thanks for the fun. I’m really just a supporting actress in this flick, but, hey, maybe there’s an Oscar nomination in the wings, huh?”

 
; “For an animated feature,” Kelly said. “You’re such a cartoon.”

  “Yep. Looney Tunes all the way.” She winked. “Get better quick, girl. I’m ready for some more adventures.”

  When she left, I collected the photos, slid them back into the envelope, and pushed it into my sweatshirt’s front pocket. “You know, I wouldn’t mind if Daryl tags along. She’s a huge help.”

  “I was thinking the same thing.”

  The clacking of shoes sounded from the hallway. Dr. Gordon strode in, his brow furrowed and his lips turned down as he glared at me. “Your actions on Earth Yellow were more far-reaching than I thought.”

  I took a step back. “Uh … okay. I’m glad to see you, too.”

  Gordon waved his hand. “I know. I know. Politeness demands a more genteel entry, but my head is still pounding from being knocked out and locked in my trunk, so I hoped to get right to business. We have pressing issues to discuss.”

  “Pressing issues?”

  “Of course. Did you think the ramifications of your cosmic fabric perforations were over?”

  “Well, no, I uh — ”

  “As I explained before, our worlds’ timelines were parallel until we began crossing from one to another. Our presence in a foreign world caused slight changes that triggered an unpredictable domino effect. Maybe a driver slowed down to allow me to cross a street. Maybe he arrived home four seconds later than he would have and avoided a burglar who would have killed him. Later, this same man kills a woman who would have given birth to a research scientist who would have discovered a breakthrough cure for a disease.”

  “That’s a lot of would haves you can’t be sure of.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “But maybe our effects are positive in the long run. Did you think of that?”

  “Of course. That’s been Dr. Simon’s goal all along, to create positive effects in the worlds that trail in time. But I wanted to begin with small changes so we could track the chain reactions. Dr. Simon had other plans. He couldn’t imagine how saving more than two hundred seventy lives could possibly be a bad idea. And since Earth Yellow was about to hurtle past the day of the airline crash, he didn’t bother to consult me. He worked very hard to get you to the right place at the right time.”