Time Skip (Book 2): The Time Skippers

by Craig L. Seymour

  Caroline continued, “That was when Cedric first started to look for the vigilante. Of course, they weren’t really a vigilante at that point, and he was really only guessing that it was the same person who had tipped the FBI to both attacks. At that point, they had only been trying to do something good with the opportunity we had all been given. They had done it the right way, not taking the law into their own hands. None of us knew who they were, but, we all admired them, even Cedric.”

  Maria was starting to get frustrated herself. “But, don’t you see? It wasn’t the right way. It only traded the lives of one set of victims for another.”

  “Exactly! They fooled around trying to change the past and destroyed the lives of all those innocent people. So Cedric stopped looking. He actually pitied the person. He was sure they felt horrible about what they had done. I’m sure we all would have. I like to think that most of us learned a lesson about meddling with the past, not that it would do us any good when we were so close to the end of our replay.

  “Then it happened again. All those people were resurrected, and we would have a chance to use the lesson we had learned. I was grateful for those people, but, I was scared too. I didn’t know what to think. I was just about as confused as the first time. But, Cedric was starting to put it together. He believed that time had to be reset because the vigilante had mucked around with the past too much. He assumed that, of all people, they would have learned their lesson.

  “In the days leading up to the Murrah bombing, when there was no news of an arrest, he thought he was right. But, when there was no bombing, he had to go find out why. He learned that McVeigh had been murdered. It was made to look like an accident. But, mortal’s lives don’t change unless one of us intervenes. So, Cedric knew we now had a vigilante among us. What he didn’t know yet was that Ben Laden was already dead as well. Rather than learning a lesson, the meddler decided to dispatch Bin Laden himself when he got a second chance. And just like with McVeigh, it was the absence of news that tipped Cedric off. Only this time of wasn’t the missing attack. Several years before that Cedric noticed that there was never a mention of Al Qaeda or any of its other actions. When he found out that Bin Laden had been killed too, he knew it must be the same person.”

  “I’m not sure I’m following the connection to the rest of the killings. How does the connection of the killing of terrorists lead to the vigilante?” Maria admitted.

  Caroline explained, “It’s a matter of methodology. Cedric has been tracking the vigilante’s kills for years. He knows how the killer operates, so he knows that McVeigh is one of his victims. And since McVeigh and the 9/11 terrorists are connected, the chain links right from Bin Laden’s assassin to the vigilante. Not actual proof, I’ll grant you but, good circumstantial evidence to prove a theory that we’re all pretty confident in already.”

  “That makes sense.” Maria conceded.

  “So, as I said, that's not how things are done here. We have laws against vigilantism for a reason.”

  “Yes.” Maria agreed, “But, those laws and reasons don't account for time traveling. I realize that the law is intended to prevent punishment of the wrong people. But, the vigilante has hindsight like us. He or she gets to see the whole judicial process, then prevent a murder that he knows is going to happen. Let me ask you, has Cedric checked to see if the vigilante has ever made a mistake?” Maria knew that Lovelle did exactly that. Each time he dispatched a new villain, he verified that the would-be victims were in fact saved from the fate they would have otherwise suffered.

  “I’m not sure about that.” Caroline admitted. “That doesn’t really matter anyhow. The law of unintended consequences still applies. Cedric believes, and I agree, that the reason time isn't continuing is the meddling. As soon as this vigilante started to change things, we were doomed to repeat and reset. Besides, how do they defend continuing to kill McVeigh? Since they started killing the cult leader, Koresh, there are no more government sieges on the Branch Davidians. No more burning compound in Waco means there's no more reason for McVeigh to blow anything up. So why kill him?”

  Again Maria was frustrated at not being able to tell her friend how Lovelle struggled with that decision. She tried to explain. “But McVeigh is a killer. Don’t you think he was just looking for an excuse to lash out?”

  “Not in this life. In this life he was an innocent man. He might have gone his whole life without an incident.”

  “But, he is not an innocent man. He is a murderer. The fact that the rest of the world can’t see it, does not change who he is.”

  “Uhhh!” Caroline let out a groan of irritation. “Maria. I can’t believe you’re taking the vigilante’s side.”

  “I’m not taking a side. I’m just trying to understand. You say that Cedric thinks that changing the past is the cause of the resets. Well, I don’t know what would make him think that, but, I imagine the vigilante is thinking about that as well. He or she probably believes they will eventually find the right person to kill and time will move on. As for me, I don't know and I doubt we'll ever know. Assuming we ever get past 2003, I don’t expect to get an explanation. But, I do have to wonder, if God did not want us to change anything, then why reset the clock in the first place?”

  “The only way we're going to find out if we’re right is to stop this killer. Catch him and convince him to let things take their course. Then we can all go back to our old lives and see what happens.”

  Maria wanted to tell her that she had no intention of returning to her old life. She wondered if these people could really believe that there was any possibility of getting all of the Skippers across the world to go back to their past lives. She could hardly imagine all the ways some of them might be taking advantage of their circumstances. Could Cedric really believe that there weren’t dozens of others altering the past in dramatic fashion? If coordinating a global effort to recreate life before the skips were the only way time was going to advance, then they had all better prepare for a really long existence.

  ***

  When Maria later related this conversation to Lovelle, he chuckled. “Do you think he honestly believes there's any way we could ever make things happen exactly as they happened before? It doesn't matter if we intentionally meddle or not. Things will be different. I tried like hell to recreate my life and it fell apart. To some degree you can pretty much guarantee that happened to every single Skipper. There just isn't any way. And the further away in time that we get from our original lives, the less we’ll remember what we did in them. I still wonder if, at the end of this life, he will ask you to stay in Cuba.”

  “I might just tell him to go to hell if he did, but I don’t think he will. By his theory, there’ll be no point until they find you. Besides, if he is serious about this, then he must have some threshold of variation in mind. He knows very well that you can’t duplicate the past. I just wonder what that arbitrary line is going to be, and where my life fits in.”

  “Well if he does ask, don’t tell him to go to hell. Just agree and then come anyway. He’ll never know, and you’ll stay out of his crosshairs.

  Lovelle was impressed with Baker’s deductive reasoning connecting Timothy McVeigh with both the assassin and the vigilante. He hadn’t thought of that himself, and had to give the man credit. It gave him pause though, to think that his potential adversary might be more competent than he had hoped. Whether Baker believed his own rhetoric, or simply used it to manipulate his followers, he was certainly interested in stopping Lovelle. And when you’re being hunted, the last thing you want is a competent hunter.

  Chapter 7

  Lovelle stood, feeling perturbed, at the top of the stairwell of his latest target’s house. His victim lay a few feet away, suspended in a cargo net, his neck broken. With the light on, Lovelle could see a sawed off shotgun mounted in a makeshift bracket on the wall. It was within easy reach of the lifeless body and would have been quite handy if the man were still breathing. What disturbed Lovelle about the scene wasn’
t the fact that this was going to make it really hard to pass this murder off as an accident. Doing that wasn’t essential to the plan. It was more like insurance. What really ticked him off was the fact that this was clearly the work of a Skipper. Someone had warned the son of a gun and there was no one but a Skipper who could have known he was coming. They might have even helped set the trap. Someone, almost certainly the 7/17 club, had chosen to let this murderer go ahead and kill three college students, in exchange for netting the vigilante.

  Fortunately, the informant had fallen for Lovelle’s ruse, put on to mislead the police. They had obviously believed that in the past two lives Lovelle had simply pushed the man down the stairs. But doing that left too much to chance. He had actually snapped the man’s neck each time and then tossed him down the stairs strictly for appearance's sake. This time, there would be no such cover up. It was going to be obvious that something fishy had been going on, so Lovelle chose to beat feet rather than continue to risk leaving any evidence of himself. The police would have to sort out who might have killed the man, and how the man seemed to know it was coming. But there would still be no reason to ever look at Lovelle or Ridge, unless he left them a reason. So he simply bolted from the scene.

  The game had changed. If they weren’t before, it seemed as though the 7/17 club was actively after him now. There would be no telling who among his victims would be prepared for him in the future. Next time he might find his victim under police protection. He might get caught placing explosives on a car. One of his more capable victims might get the drop on him and actually kill him the way this man had obviously intended. He was going to have to make some drastic changes. He could no longer treat his targets as unwary marks. His hands-on methods, which had long served to keep his work from being noticed, had become an unacceptable risk.

  ***

  Once again the law of unintended consequences, with which Lovelle was all too familiar, reared its head. Only this time it wasn’t just his effort to change history that would ripple in unforeseen ways. In the case of the botched assassination, the attempt to snare the vigilante had trapped the wrong man. One of the would-be killer’s coworkers had a pretty contentious relationship with him. This coworker became the prime suspect in the murder, and in the families lust for “justice”, the man was railroaded into a false confession. While Lovelle doubted very much that anyone who styled themselves as immortal was too concerned, this wasn’t something Lovelle could let stand. He had to find a way to place blame on himself without getting caught in the meantime.

  The best way he could imagine doing this was to contact the press and take credit for the murder. To bolster his claim he would connect this crime to his next assassination. He started with a letter to the local newspaper;

  They have the wrong man! Despite his confession, Mr. Garde did not kill Mr. Rasmussen. I am certain of this because I did. I laid in wait for the man then snapped his neck. I attempted to throw his body down the stairwell to cover my trail. I discovered exactly what the police discovered. That he had tried to prepare for me. Someone of my association has betrayed me. They’ve tried to get me killed, but, they’ve failed. They have lost the element of surprise and missed their opportunity. I’ll never be caught with my guard down again. And I won’t be prevented from doing what needs to be done. Monsters like Rasmussen cannot be allowed to start their criminal careers. And they won’t as long as I am around to stop them.

  -The Vigilante

  He knew he would look like a crack pot to anyone who would be reading his note. Nevertheless, it would serve its purpose perfectly well. And, his secondary audience, the Skipper or Skippers who had set him up, would certainly get his meaning. He hoped to dissuade them from future interference. Despite the bravado of his letter, he knew that, given enough attempts, they would eventually either get lucky, or he would slip up. If they persisted, he believed that they would eventually catch or kill him.

  And even if the next time skip would undo any damage they might have caused, nothing could undo the fact that they would forever know who he was. Without his anonymity, he might never be able to operate effectively again. Besides, Lovelle always lived his life as if it was finally going to be permanent. That’s why he did what he did. Every criminal he dispatched deserved to be dead, and every victim he saved deserved to go on living when time finally continued. And the last thing he wanted for himself was to be dead or in prison when it did. Especially now that Maria had given him something more to live for.

  For the sake of the innocent Mr. Garde, Lovelle broke the neck of his next target and left the body in the bedroom. This particular target was someone who he had previously removed by means of a hunting ‘accident’. This time, however, he had a different agenda. This time he informed the local paper of the whereabouts of the body, effectively ending the prosecution of Garde.

  ***

  With the broader world now alerted to his existence, Lovelle was less concerned with staging accidents than with keeping his distance from prey that might potentially try and turn the tables on him. He turned sniper and began taking down his targets from a distance. It was a skill he’d picked up in life number three during his single stint in the military. He had been working for military intelligence in Kuwait during the first Persian Gulf War when he had befriended a group of special ops soldiers. They had taught him marksmanship, hand to hand combat, and a number of other skills that had proven useful over the years.

  Lovelle seldom thought of those days anymore. He’d had a short career in the Army, which he used to position himself for the first assassination of Bin Laden. While working in Kuwait he met Captain Will Morris. He and the captain had become fast friends. At 26, Morris was a seasoned veteran of the Special Forces. He had recognized the unusual maturity in Lovelle, at the time a new Lieutenant in military intelligence, and had taken him under his wings. From Morris and the men under his command Lovelle had learned weapons and tactics far beyond the normal training for his position. He had stayed in contact with the man throughout that third life. But, because he no longer utilized the military to accomplish his mission to Sudan, Lovelle never had an opportunity to speak to the man after that. He would have liked to, but, could not imagine a good way to introduce himself. Morris remained in the military throughout the time of the skip. As an old war buddy, Lovelle could easily stay in touch. But, as rogue operative, not so much.

  He had first put that training to use while on leave in Sudan. That was when he killed Osama Bin Laden for the first time. On that first occasion he had used a BAR, or Browning Automatic Rifle, a compromise which gave him a fair amount of accuracy along with the option of automatic firing if he screwed up his initial shot. It had turned out to be a fortuitous choice. He had wound up in a fire fight and had only narrowly escaped that encounter. But now, fearing neither a miss nor a retaliatory strike, he used a more traditional weapon. He had a beautiful Remington 30.06 hunting rifle that he purchased from the same gun show booth in every life. His intimate familiarity with the weapon only served to make him that much more deadly. Plus, its common caliber made it perfect when one of his targets needed to have a fatal hunting mishap.

  Forensic science could easily match the rounds fired from his Remington against one another, not to mention against the rifle itself. But that was only if the authorities ever got their hands on it, and there was no reason to expect that they would ever come knocking on Lovelle’s door. His victims had no discernible link to one another, and none whatsoever to him. In fact, the only time any of his kills had ever been linked was when he had recently advertised the connection. This far into this life all of his remaining targets were future criminals. They had dissimilar backgrounds and hailed from widely disparate parts of the country. Killing them without being detected or drawing suspicion was really not that difficult. A skilled marksman with good patience can always find an opportune moment to strike. Killing unsuspecting criminals was not the same as going after public figures with security or an entourage to be
concerned about.

  Also, in most cases his new method took less time than the alternative he would have used. They generally presented a good solitary target within a day or two. And although Lovelle never rushed a job, he was more than happy to have more down time. He finally had someone to come home to. He never even considered putting Maria in jeopardy by bringing her along on his missions. Besides, the pleasure of their reunions wasn’t something he would have wanted to give up. Absence did, in fact, make the heart grow fonder.

  Chapter 8

  Just before the anticipated next skip, Lovelle introduced Maria to his end of life ritual. From his closet he extracted a stuffed file box. “Now, here comes the fun part.” He announced. He dropped the cardboard box onto the kitchen table and pulled off the lid. Inside were dozens of tabbed file folders. There was one for each of his targets, and several others for various subjects which he deemed important.

  This was the way he kept his memory fresh. He studied these files as if he were preparing for the bar exam. He copied them by hand numerous times in the weeks leading up to the next skip. Then, he recreated them as thoroughly as possible as soon as the next life started. He maintained the box, referring to it as necessary, and adding to it when appropriate, for the next 18 years.

  He knew that over time he was losing bits and pieces. Anything he failed to remember when it came time to recreate these files was likely lost for good. And, as the number of files continued to grow, the amount of lost data would likely grow too. Now, he had help. He would have Maria go through them as well, committing as much to her own memory as possible. Maria could serve as a backup to his overtaxed recollection.