Him_v4

by Mazur, Caitlin

  "Where were we?" Faye's outburst had stifled her questions for a moment, but there was potentially a thousand years of history to learn from the man she was sitting next to. "What does the world look like in the future? Are there other enhancements that humans have?" She had a terrifying, yet exciting thought. "Can someone see my future?"

  "It's not fortune telling for fun. Frivolous behavior is what got the world to where it is in my time. We use Seers' pre-cognitive abilities to know what exactly we need to change, what and when in the timeline something needs to be intervened on. The premonitions are translated for us to understand, usually on a screen, or sometimes from word of mouth." He sighed, stiffening in his chair. "Are you sure you want to know all of this?" He ran his free hand through his hair nervously.

  "What's the harm?"

  Ben shook his head. "The damage with you is already done. What I tell you isn't going to change anything. It will just be a lot for you…to process."

  Amelia crossed her arms. "I want to know. I've come this far. I feel like knowing the future is fair compensation for this whole mess."

  "It's not," he said grimly. "But fine."

  Amelia nodded, a ghost of a grin on her lips.

  "In 2711, nearly three-hundred years before my time there was a war on the country you now call the United States. They had access to time travel, a technology that hadn't been discovered in other parts of the world. It was primitive, at best, but that wasn't the problem. The problem was, they didn't know what to do with it.

  "As with many things, they offered the technology to others for a price. The wealthy could do what they wanted with it—travel back in time, disrupt the past, even meet themselves. They were irresponsible, and the rest of the world knew it. Countries across the world came together to ask them to put a stop to time travel. It was dangerous. They wanted them to hand over the technology so that, as a planet, as a species, we could decide what to do with it. It was powerful, and they were afraid of it. As they should have been.

  "The United States refused, which resulted in fear from other nations. It caused chaos. The Seers were perpetually confused because of it all. Nobody knew what was coming. They were treated as an enemy over their unwillingness to cooperate. Time travel continued for years, but every massive climate disaster, every terrorist attack, any bad thing that happened in the world was blamed on the technology."

  "Finally, the world went to war in 2817 against the US. The weaponry was meant to destroy the country, but not just destroy, to keep every living thing that survived from fighting back for generations to come. They were terrified the technology would survive.

  "Their plan went off without a hitch. Bombing the country. Except, the United States foresaw the attack and attempted to change the outcome."

  "I thought you couldn't change things unless you went back the right way?" Amelia interjected.

  Ben nodded. "You can't." He kept his eyes glued to the road. "But they didn't know that."

  "So, what happened?"

  "Well..." Ben ran his hand across his chin, "They thought if they attacked them first, went back a few days and blew everyone else up, they couldn't be touched." He grimaced. "They were wrong.

  "Instead of a bomb, there was a meteor. Then, a series of natural disasters. Each time they went back and tried to change the event, they couldn't. Regardless of their efforts, a sort of perpetual nuclear winter settled over Earth. Toxic soot was ejected into the stratosphere. And everyone died." He turned towards her. "Well, almost everyone."

  "And that's why you're here."

  "There were only a few survivors. We call them the Originators."

  "How did they survive?"

  "The Compound, of course," Ben said, as though it were obvious. "It was originally built to be a secretive underground bunker, built to sustain a doomsday situation for the government. Essentially, it's a structure untouched by time."

  "Untouched by time?" The concept was too wild to wrap her head around.

  "Time stands still inside. It's accessible at any time, but always in the same place. You can only stay there for so long. If you linger too long, you'll weaken by the standstill of time. There's a balance we need to keep."

  She looked back out towards the window. Trees whipped past, blurry. She felt nauseous. "How is any of this possible?"

  "The Originators repopulated, created the home we now know as the Habitat. It's a structure that rises up above the unlivable atmosphere. There's about two-hundred of us now, more or less."

  Her stomach turned. She thought, momentarily, about having him pull over to the side of the road so she could puke her brains out. She wasn't convinced a human being was built to hear knowledge like this and still feel sane. "That's not many people," she answered, struggling to find an appropriate comment for it all.

  "No. It's not."

  She welcomed the silence that came next, blindly searching for the automatic window lever. It rolled down, letting the breeze roll over her. It was the smell of being on the move, and it calmed her. Even though the past few hours had been senseless, the act of running from something in search of something new had always been her normal.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Amelia curled up against the side of the door, head against her shoulder, drifting in and out of sleep as the afternoon passed. Despite her exhaustion, she couldn't get comfortable. She and Ben hadn't slept since the car accident, spare the short spurts she'd gotten in Faye's hospital room, and it was catching up with them. Fast.

  She looked at Ben. His hand still gripped the top of the steering wheel, eyes slightly bloodshot and focused on the road. He brought his free hand up to his face, rubbing at his brow.

  "Hey," she said softly. His head tilted towards her, indicating he heard her. "Tired?"

  "No." He squeezed his eyes closed. "Maybe a little."

  "Want me to drive for a bit?"

  "Please. You can barely keep your eyes open."

  "Well, we won't make it anywhere if we end up in a ditch somewhere because someone fell asleep at the wheel."

  He stiffened. She could tell he felt conflicted. The journey was still far from being over.

  "It'll only be for an hour or two. Just pull off the main road, hide the ambulance, find a place to crash for a few hours. Nobody will look for it in one of these small towns."

  She watched him turn the thought over in his mind. This wasn't the first time since she'd met him that she wished she could read his mind. How could he expect to make it all the way to Nevada on no sleep? Sleep had to be vital to all humans, time traveling ones or not.

  "Three hours." His voice was rigid. "No longer. Just so we can catch up."

  She smiled. "Look." She pointed at a large blue sign as they passed it. "There's lodging at the next exit. Two miles north."

  He gave her a reluctant shrug, shifting the ambulance into the right lane of the highway and exiting. The long stretch of road disappeared into a smaller one, sheltered by big, bushy trees. They followed the road signs until they came to a stoplight. Across the street sat a long, L-shaped building with a red roof. Outside, a motel sign blinked, the vacancy text underneath blinking in bright neon text.

  Amelia pointed to it. "There."

  "What is that?" Ben eyed the building suspiciously.

  "It's a motel. It's cheap, and I bet they price us by the hour."

  The light changed from red to green. Ben hesitated for a moment before guiding the vehicle into the parking lot of the motel.

  "Pull up here," Amelia pointed to the door that read Office.

  "How are we—?"

  Amelia dug through her purse, fishing out her wallet. "Don't worry. I have some money." She'd been saving it for the rent next week, but right now, life was happening one minute at a time.

  "Thanks," he said quietly as she reached to open the door.

  Surprised, she looked back at him, offering a small smile. "Don't mention it."

  Amelia walked through the door of the small office, her exhaustion descen
ding upon her like a bat out of hell. The room was uncomfortably warm, the stench of stale beer filling the air. She stifled a yawn behind her hand. A man sat behind the counter with a wide brimmed hat, feet on the counter, watching a small television that had a variety of suspicious moans coming from it. She cleared her throat and he straightened, spinning around in his chair.

  "How's it goin'?" He struggled to keep his eyes open.

  "I need a room." Amelia didn't have time for small talk.

  "Do you?" He raised an eyebrow.

  "I do. Three hours."

  The man looked her up and down hungrily, then fumbled underneath the desk for a key. "It'll be forty," he told her. "And we'll come knockin' in three hours, so you best be outta there—"

  "We will be."

  She snatched the keys from him, leaving two crisp twenties from her wallet on the desk. Dusk approached as she made her way out of the office back towards the ambulance. The normalcy of day turning to night was striking, catching her off guard. It had only been a day since their crash. Absentmindedly, Amelia touched the bruised skin on her neck. If only they had stayed a few minutes later at the stupid band gig. If only Amelia hadn't rushed them out of there.

  "27," she told Ben, reading the number on the key, as she climbed back into her seat. She squinted into the distance at the doors. "Must be around back."

  Ben maneuvered them around the back of the long building, out of sight from the main road. The pair slipped from their seats out onto the pavement, around to the back of the vehicle to pull the doors wide. Faye still laid curled up on the stretcher.

  "Faye." Amelia climbed up the back of the vehicle carefully. "We're stopping for a quick rest."

  Faye lifted her head, and her appearance made Amelia's stomach drop unpleasantly. She was gaunt, her eyes sunken, deep purple circles beneath them. For a moment, Amelia regretted the stop. "Okay," she croaked, struggling to shift herself into a seated position.

  Beside her, Ben jumped up effortlessly into the back and, without a word, whisked Faye into his arms. If Faye was startled, she didn't show it, allowing the man to carry her out of the back. Amelia closed the doors behind them, nodding at him in thanks. He gave a single nod in return and turned towards the row of doors on the building before them. She clutched her purse to her shoulder and unlocked their door.

  The room smelled like sweat and stale cigarette smoke. She flipped the switch on the inside of the door frame. The placed looked dated, with wood paneling lining the walls, and a shaggy brown carpet. Ben pushed past Amelia, Faye still in his arms, and laid her atop the hideous comforter.

  Her sister curled into herself, like she wished she would disappear, shifting her head against the sheet. As she moved, Amelia watched clumps of blonde hair fall away from her scalp with ease. Her chest ached for her sister.

  Ben stood beside the bed, hands at his side, looking down at Faye. Amelia wanted to be angry at him. After all, this was all of his fault. But she couldn't bring herself to it. Maybe later. Her exhaustion was beginning to settle in.

  Amelia pushed past Ben to help Faye get situated. She brushed her sister's lost hair onto the carpet. Knowing her sister, she'd be mortified. Faye curled up into the pillow, and Amelia brought the blanket up to meet her chin. "You okay?" she whispered.

  Faye managed to crack an eye open to look at her. "Feel like crap."

  Amelia grasped for the edge of the bed so she could sit. "We'll be there soon. Just need a few hours of sleep."

  Faye's face scrunched so her cheeks met the corners of her eyes and she took a deep, shuddering breath. "Amelia," she said hoarsely. "Don't let me die."

  With a sharp intake of breath, Amelia struggled for her next words. Stop, she thought. Please don't say that.

  "We won't," came the voice beside her. "I won't let that happen. We're going to get you better, and try and get you back home."

  Breaking her gaze, Amelia looked up at Ben. He stared down at Faye, eyes shifting back towards Amelia. The look swept up all her insides and turned them over in her belly. She couldn't help it. She looked back at her sister, watching her breathing shift to a steady rhythm. She had fallen asleep.

  She stood, searching for a breath of relief, but it didn't come. Her heart pounded, chest tightening. She turned to place the purse she was still holding at the edge of the bed.

  The bathroom was only a few feet away—an open sink that faced the rest of the room and an enclosed toilet to the right. She turned the sink on and let it run for a moment before dipping her hands in to wet them. She brought them to her face and patted her cheeks, running her fingers over her eyelids, then turned the sink off. Amelia looked up into the mirror at herself. Tired brown eyes reflected back at her.

  This will all be over soon, she tried to remind herself. You'll be fine. Faye will be okay. This will all be over soon. The intent of the words was there, but she wasn't sure she believed them. She needed to. It could mean life or death for her sister.

  Behind her Ben moved, staring at her through the mirror. She caught his eyes and his face softened. She thought he might look away, but he didn't. His chin dipped to his chest, eyes lowered. She watched him swallow. A guilty man. She turned to face him.

  "Are you telling the truth?" she asked, her voice cracking. "About her." She nodded in Faye's direction.

  Ben raised an eyebrow. "About saving her life?"

  Amelia nodded.

  "I wouldn't lie," he said sternly, narrowing his eyes at her.

  She nodded, looking back at the ground.

  "Amelia."

  She was forced to look up at him again as he took a few steps closer to her. Her breath caught in her throat as she matched his gaze.

  "I wouldn't lie to you."

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  "Breathe, Ebenezer."

  His senses betrayed him in the darkness. Lips next to his ear whispered, "Breathe." He struggled to do as he was told. She was the voice of reason, a beacon of safety. She would not harm him unless he gave her a reason to justify it.

  "Seraphine," he called. Instinctively, he tried to move his limbs to reach for her. Slick ropes slithered up his arms, latching painfully onto his skin, holding him back. They moved to his neck in seconds, pressing into his Adam's apple, trying to cut off his airflow.

  "Help me."

  He was going to suffocate.

  He'd forgotten how to move, how to fight back. All his training, gone to waste. His body went rigid as he felt cold liquid envelope his body from the bottom up.

  "Focus," she hissed. An order. "Fight back."

  Focus.

  He tried, straining the muscles on his arms and neck, to sit up, but the ropes were relentless. He couldn't fight them any longer.

  Water rushed in up to his neck, over his ears, filling his nose, and he spluttered, making the mistake of opening his mouth. He choked, nostrils burning with the unwanted presence of water, ropes still around his neck.

  He was drowning.

  Suddenly, they released him, falling limp at his side, and a bright light overhead came on, indicating his failure. His senses caught up with him as he sat up, an uncontrollable cough bubbling in his chest. He was at the Migrator testing facility, though his surroundings seemed distorted. The ceiling was impossibly far away. Figures in the distance blurred. He looked down at himself, fifteen again, naked, unfocused, and terrified. He looked to his side to Seraphine, his Guide. Her eyes burned a deep coal black beneath a furrowed brow. Her look of disappointment radiated through him.

  She brought her arms straight up, but her piercing eyes did not move from his face. "Again," she commanded. The light disappeared, and he was back where he started.

  He woke with a jerk, nearly falling from the couch he'd settled down on just a few hours before.

  He'd had a dream.

  It wouldn't be much of a revelation, except he rarely ever had dreams. Ben tried to remember the last time he'd had one. Years ago. Before he fully became a Migrator, his nights were filled with nightmares and
terrors—things that weren't real. With enough training and focus, he had been able to eliminate them. His nights had been dreamless for a long time now.

  He is most happy when following orders.

  The dream wasn't hard to interpret, but what he really needed to do was focus. The sooner they got to the Compound, the better.

  Ben sat on the edge of the old pink dust trap of a couch, letting the memory of the dream float away. He ran his hands over his face, as if it would reignite some life back into his body. He'd thought sleep would do him well, or at least invigorate him, but somehow he felt worse.

  He looked across the room at Faye, studying her breathing. She lay on her side, her face turned towards him. The color of her skin barely varied from the white of the sheets she lay on, but her shoulder moved up and down ever so slightly. She was still alive, but Ben couldn't say for how long. Death was on her doorstep. It was time to go.

  He looked next to Amelia. She faced away, her long dark hair cascading down the pillow. He watched her breathing for a moment, too—steadier and stronger than her sister's. He worried about her as well. Her curiosity could be dangerous. Her thoughts were scattered, her stress contagious. She cared for her sister a foolish amount, though that would keep her compliant until they got where they were going.

  He turned to the window behind him, the sky now a deep purple, but something else caught his eye. Bright blue and red lights flashed, catching in the curtain. He pulled it aside, peering out into the parking lot. The ambulance looked out of place in the small tar lot. Then, to his surprise, a stocky man dressed in a navy blue suit appeared beside it. Around his waist, he wore a buckled black belt. His chest sported a gold badge.

  Ben stared at him for a moment before he jumped to his feet, letting the curtain fall back into place. His shoulders tightened, heart picked up its pace, as he leaned forward to draw the curtain once more. He lifted it gingerly, only giving himself a sliver to look out from. It was some time of enforcer snooping around the ambulance.