by Dan Alatorre
“Are the guards gone?”
“Would you still be in there with all that going on? I don’t even want to be out here.”
“I definitely don’t want to be here.”
“Hey, toughen up.” Melissa smiled. “You owe me one, remember?”
“You said you didn’t save my life.”
She dashed for the overhead door. “I might have lied.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Melissa had been able to pick locks as a party trick since she was a child, just never while somebody was shooting at her.
Hopefully, that streak would continue.
“It’s all tumblers, Missy.” Mr. Mills twisted the long wiry lock pick in the keyhole. “You hold each one up with the pick, and then you can turn the knob. See? Focus on the tumblers.”
It was fun to watch a mini Houdini work her way out of a locked closet or bedroom in front of family and friends. After a while, she got good enough at it to work on other types of locks.
But that was a long time ago, and the stress of performing in front of an office full of her father’s employees at a Christmas party was a far cry from opening the security locks for the Sun Dome’s truck entrance with a few borrowed hairpins.
As the roof caved in.
And if the armed guards saw her, they'd stop her.
Put that out of your mind, Missy. It’s just tumblers. Focus on the tumblers.
She wiped her sweaty hands on her pants. She knew: work each pin, one at a time, slowly. Still, she knew she was rushing. Each time she had a few tumblers in place, the hairpin would slip or bend.
She glanced at the massive door. There was no way to drive right through it the way they do on TV. She took a deep breath and started again.
* * * * *
From behind the dumpster, I could see Missy squatting as she worked the lock.
I didn’t know how long it took to pick a lock—only what I’d seen on TV—but this seemed to be taking too long. From inside the stadium, the noise continued. Crashes. Groaning metal rafters bending under the increasing weight of the sagging canvas. If we didn’t get in there soon, the way to the machine might be blocked completely.
I thought about trying Barry on the radio. She said to wait, but at some point he needed to be called whether we got in or not.
My heart pounded. I checked around for the guards. Maybe they had left. Maybe they were watching the destruction from the other side of the stadium.
Maybe they would be waiting for us when we got inside.
* * * * *
“God damn it!”
The hairpins slipped again. The lock simply would not comply. Missy pounded the big steel door. “Open up, you son of a bitch.”
She blinked back a tear. “Everybody’s counting on me now. I am not going to let them down.”
Focus on the tumblers, Missy.
She glared at the cold steel lock. “Okay, you stupid lock, here’s what’s gonna happen.” She held up a hair pin. “I’m gonna do this one more time.” She took a deep breath. “I’m going to go slow, okay? I’m going to hold the pins in place firmly.” She slid the pin into the keyhole. “And you’re going to open up. Do you hear me?”
She inserted the second pin, holding the first one tightly in place. The wire bent a little, so she applied even more force, causing the pins to dig into her fingers. Then the third pin, holding the other two, squeezing her eyes closed against the pain. She slowly turned them.
Click.
The lock popped open.
Melissa exhaled. “About time.” She licked the blood off her finger and placed her forehead against the big door. “Thank you.”
* * * * *
Melissa waved her arms at me. Time to cue Barry. I stood up and lifted the little pink radio to my mouth.
Headlights appeared on me, bouncing their way toward us. I dropped back behind the dumpster, motioning at Missy. “Get down!”
The truck drove right at me, screeching to a halt in front of the dumpster.
“Did somebody call for a taxi?”
It was Barry. I stood and shielded my eyes from the glare of the headlights. “Good timing.”
He smiled. “Tell that to Jimmy. Where’s Melissa?”
“Barry!” She lifted the gate a few inches. “Peeky! Come help me. The gate’s stuck.”
I ran over to her as Barry hopped along behind me. He checked the door. “These overhead doors work on a chain system inside, like a pulley.” He looked at Melissa. “Slide under. It should be on one side of the door.”
He knelt down. The wind from inside blew his hair back. “Peeky, help me lift.”
Barry balanced on one foot so his broken ankle wouldn’t bear any weight. We put our hands under the big steel gate and lifted.
“Okay. I can get under that.” Melissa dropped to her back and disappeared under the door.
I bent over and called into the opening. “Be careful. There’s still a lot of stuff coming down.”
Barry grinned at me. “Told you.”
The gate began to rise with noisy metal rumble. Melissa appeared. “Break time’s over. Let’s go get our damn time machine.” With that, she turned and ran towards the stadium floor.
Barry stood up, watching her go. “She’s kinda Lara Croft all of a sudden, isn’t she?”
I nodded. “Yeah.”
“Kinda hot, isn’t it?”
“Yeah.”
We watched for another moment. “Okay.” Barry opened the truck door. “Get in.”
He drove down the ramp to the basketball court. There, in the middle of the massing debris, stood the time machine, resting on a simple wood palate. The stadium fans pumped wildly, creating a howling wind that escaped through the gaping hole in the roof and any other openings. Aside from a lot of noise and broken lights, not much else had happened yet, but above us the sagging roof was collapsing under its own weight.
Melissa waved at us from beside the machine. Barry pulled up next to it. “Peeky, you two should be able to lift it right onto the truck bed.”
I jumped out. Melissa was already lowering the tail gate. “Help me pull it over.”
I grabbed the machine and pulled. It moved easily.
Melissa shouted over the wind noise. “On the count of three, lift this end up.” She patted the machine. “Put it on the tailgate. Then we can just slide it in. Ready?”
I nodded.
A flash came off the roof of the truck, sending little sparks in all directions. A little round hole appeared in the truck bed. I looked at Melissa.
She pointed over my shoulder. “They’re shooting at us!”
I ducked down, holding the machine. “Let’s get the hell out of here!”
Melissa shook her head. “We’re taking this with us!”
“Hey, you guys!” Barry leaned out the truck door, shouting. “I think somebody’s shooting at us!”
“They’re missing on purpose.” Melissa crouched behind the time machine. “They won’t risk hitting the machine.”
Following her gaze to the source of the gunfire, Barry frowned. “Are you sure?”
“Pretty sure.”
I cringed. “Pretty sure?”
There was another thump as a shot hit the truck bed.
Barry grabbed the machine. “Let’s get it onto the truck and get out of here. Lift!”
We shoved the time machine into the back of the truck and Melissa slammed the tailgate shut. “Peeky, get in the back.”
“That’s where the bullets keep hitting!”
“Get in. You’ll get shot if you try to go around.”
Barry climbed behind the wheel. Melissa slid in behind him. “Move over. I’ll drive.”
She dropped the truck into gear and stomped the gas pedal. The pickup’s wheels squealed as she spun the truck around.
The two guards appeared in front of the vehicle exit, guns pointed.
“Get down!” Melissa hit the accelerator.
We sped toward them. The men fired a fe
w shots, shattering the windshield. Then we were past them and out into the parking lot.
She punched the gas again and we raced away from the stadium
* * * * *
It must have appeared odd to see three people carrying a large bronze egg up the stairs and down the hallway to our motel room. That’s probably what got the young girl’s attention in the first place.
“That looks like a party.” She sipped a beer as we hustled by. “Some kind of bong?”
Melissa eyed the girl. “It’s a time machine.”
“Awesome.”
“Yeah.” Melissa smiled. “Hey, any chance you and your friends would want to trade rooms? I’m sure the manager was as cordial to you as he was to me.”
“Ugh. That guy gives me the creeps.”
“All the more reason to switch rooms. Then he can’t find you when he goes on break.”
The girl nodded. “Okay.”
“Thanks. We’re just over here, okay?”
The switch went smoothly. The party girl and her friends were happy to regain some anonymity from the pimply front desk clerk.
“You really have done this before, haven’t you?” Barry sat down on the bed. I found a place to sit on the floor.
Melissa patted the time machine as it rested in its new home. “Hey, I hung out with some party girls in high school. They just wanna drink, have a little quality time with their boyfriends…”
“Underage drinking.” Barry lifted his cast onto the bed. “I can’t believe my ears.”
“Hey, I didn’t say I did it.”
“No? What were you, the designated driver?”
She looked down. “Somebody had to be.”
Barry chuckled. “I think you just went up a notch in my book and simultaneously down a notch, too.”
I shifted on the floor, letting my back rest against the wall and closing my eyes. “I think it’s nice you watched out for your friends.”
“Speaking of which, we need to take stock of our situation and see what’s what.” Melissa peered out the window at the parking lot. “We have our time machine back. Now, we need to dump the truck before they track it down and find us here.” She glanced at Barry’s leg where it had become swollen above the cast. “Looks like you could use some medical attention, too.”
“No doubt.” Barry winced. “I’m sore as hell, but we can’t risk that right now.”
I opened my eyes. “There’s a pharmacy a few blocks from here. I could go get you something.”
“With what money?” He shook his head. “Or are we holding up drug stores now, too?”
Melissa put her hands on her hips. “Peeky, you could get to the free clinic over off Nebraska Avenue. It’s a pretty far walk but they’ll have something for the pain. I’ll ditch the truck and get another car for us.”
I rubbed my neck. “How will you do that?”
“Same way I got this one. I’ll just ask a friend to borrow theirs.”
“At this hour?”
“Well, I’m sure I know somebody who won’t mind, even if it’s late.” She glanced out the window again. “Either way, that truck outside’s gotta go. It is way too easy to spot.”
I visualized the truck bed. “Especially now that it has bullet holes in it.”
“Yeah,” Barry said. “That’s got to be priority number one.”
Melissa grabbed the keys off the dresser. “So we’re agreed. Peeky will go to the free clinic and I’ll find another car for us.”
Barry shifted his broken ankle on the bed. “What am I supposed to do?”
“Stay here and guard the time machine.” She went over to him. “Get some rest. You need it. That ankle looks like hell. You have little blood stains on your armpits, too.”
Barry pulled at his shirt. “That’s from the crutches. Turns out they’re Medieval torture devices.”
Melissa put her hand on Barry’s shoulder and slid a pillow behind his back. “If I can borrow a credit card or some gas money, I will. I’ll see about getting us some food and a change of clothes, too.”
“Pretty generous friends.” I rested my head on the wall.
“Yeah, they are.” She smiled. “We take care of each other.”
I opened an eye. “Even in the middle of the night?”
She nodded. “Especially in the middle of the night. I’ve held back hair for plenty of girlfriends as they yawned at the porcelain god to stave off alcohol poisoning. They’ll open the door for me.”
“We can move faster if we go together.” I stood up.
Melissa shook her head. “Can’t risk it. That truck is a big yellow Here They Are flag and none of us can afford to be seen together right now. They’d ID us in a second. I’ll ditch the truck behind the mall and then hike across campus to a friend’s apartment. On foot, on the grass, in the shadows. It’ll take a lot longer but we won’t get spotted.” She pointed a finger at me. “You do the same thing. Walk to the clinic, but try to stay off the main streets. Use the alleys that run behind the stores, and keep to the shadows. Get whatever you can for pain and swelling, then come back.”
She set the backpack next to Barry. “Meanwhile, you stay here and rest. Hang onto this in case there’s anything you can use in it.”
He rummaged through the bag. “There’s another bottle opener. Maybe I can cut off this cast and let my ankle breathe.”
“Don’t even joke about that.” She snatched the backpack out of his hand, dropping it to the floor. “There’s a snack machine downstairs. We have enough money for a few packs of peanut butter crackers. I’ll get you something to eat until we get back. Okay?
Barry sighed. “Okay.”
Melissa turned and disappeared out the door. Barry watched as it clicked shut. “She’s a real piece of work, isn’t she? Bossing everybody around?”
“Yes, she is.”
He looked over at me and smiled. “Kinda hot, isn’t it?”
“Yeah.”
Barry shifted on the bed again, stretching out. “Man, I need some sleep, but somehow I don’t think I’ll be able to.”
His leg looked rough. The swelling was getting worse. I needed to get going. Turning on the TV, I flipped through the few channels Motel 6 provided. “Here. The USF baseball team is playing.” I handed Barry the remote. “You can watch the big game. It’s just starting.”
“Baseball.” He groaned. “If anything would put me to sleep, it would be that.”
I went to the sink. “I’m going to wash up before I head out.”
“Have at it.”
When Melissa returned, she had some crackers and Cheetos. I got Barry a cup of water from the bathroom.
Melissa fluffed up his pillows again. “Get some rest, okay?”
Barry took a deep breath. “I can’t make any promises. Getting shot at has the effect of waking me up pretty good.”
She moved a wisp of hair from his forehead. “Try.”
He rubbed his neck, peering up at her. “How long do you think you’ll be gone?”
“A few hours at least, maybe more. Will you be all right?”
He nodded.
“Okay, well…” She glanced at me. “The sooner I get rid of that truck, the better, so let’s go. Peeky?”
I headed to the door.
Barry pushed himself up in the bed. “Be careful, you guys.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Barry stared at the time machine and recalled Peeky’s words from a few days ago.
If you had a time machine, where would you go? Who would you visit?
It might as well have been years ago that he’d uttered them.
How much has changed since then.
His eyes drifted over the dials and knobs. They called to him.
What would you do if you had a time machine?
Time was short. It may have already run out. The police were after them, the news was broadcasting about them . . . in his heart, Barry knew the last grains of sand were slipping out of the hour glass. He and his friends ha
d fought the good fight, but it would soon be over – and there were no indications they’d emerge on the victorious side.
How long could they last at the motel? How long before the clerk saw the news and put two and two together?
They were being hunted by friends, too—people who knew their homes and families, who would put road blocks on the interstate highways and surveillance on their houses. Their phones and credit cards had been shut off. The hunters were probably networking through their classmates and friends, finding out who’d been contacted. Eventually Melissa, Peeky or Barry would have to surface for air, and when they did the game would end. Even the idea of going public seemed dashed, since Melissa had been seen robbing the Radio Shack. The store surveillance video would implicate them all, and any credibility would be lost.
What would you do if you had a time machine?
He stared at the big bronze oval.
Well, I have a time machine. Maybe not for much longer, but I have it right now.
Peeky’s words taunted him.
Where would you go? Who would you visit?
“I would…” He took a deep breath. “I’d pack a lunch and go see some dinosaurs.”
Looking over the control panel, he chuckled. “Go back about a million years, maybe drop in at Badlands, Montana. Say ‘Hi’ to T-Rex.” He pulled himself out of the machine and checked the fuel gauge. It had dropped considerably.
“Wow.” He slid back into the seat and inspected the metal frame. “You aren’t built for economy, are you, old girl? A five minute trip with a clock and a quick visit to Rome, and half of your gas is gone?” He ran his hand up and down the bronze oval. “We don’t even know how to refuel you. Probably never will.” Slouching, Barry shook his head. “Not enough time. How’s that for irony? I don’t have enough time to figure out how to refuel my time machine.”
The dials and levers provided no answer. “I’d be willing to bet, though, that you use a lot of power getting up and running. Like a jet airplane. They burn a lot getting off the ground. Then a trip of two thousand years or ten thousand years hardly makes a difference . . .” He turned a few knobs. “And a self-regulating system won’t let me launch for a trip I can’t return from, will it?”
He glanced around for the borrowed cell phone. “Minnie?” Barry eyed the time machine. “You don’t mind if I call you ‘Minnie’ do you? ‘Time Machine’ just sounds too formal at this point.” A few taps on the phone screen brought up the mapping app. Barry located Vero Beach, Florida.
