A dog barked, closer than Jack expected.
“We’re running out of time,” Mel said.
* * * * *
Kass had maybe taken twenty steps when he began to reconsider his hunting tactics. The darkness around him seemed filled with shadows and sounds. And eyes, eyes watching him, waiting for him to get far enough from his men and then, what? A knife to the throat? His body buried. If he disappeared who was to say how and why? He stopped. Maybe he should turn back.
He turned in a circle and realized he wasn’t sure which way that was.
He was in a wooded area, and while there was a glow, it was against much of the night sky. He couldn’t tell direction down here in the trees. He’d never been alone in the woods after dark, he realized with rising uneasiness. He was from the city, not from the backward country. It wasn’t panic he felt. Help was only a shout away, unless…
What if the enemy were closer than his men? He could hear the searchers getting closer, or did he? What if the underground were mimicking searchers? If Oberst Thorhaus had done his job like he was supposed to, there’d be no trouble from the locals. They’d know their place and stay in it. It was his fault that their enemies thought they could venture out in the dark.
Now it seemed like there was stealthy movement off to his right. He edged forward. It was his turn to step on a twig. The snap was loud. He tried to step back. His foot caught on something and he went sprawling. His hand clenched on his revolver and it spat the waiting bullet with a large snap.
Immediately someone opened fire in the night. There was a cry ahead of him, then silence.
* * * * *
Thorhaus heard the shots and dropped into a crouch that made his aching head take a few stomach lurching spins. It might have been better for him to stay in his freezing vehicle. He’d forgotten what the night can do to imaginations and trigger fingers.
He’d been enjoying the walk, the sense of being almost alone. The glow of the fires could almost be a sunset at home. The air was brisk, the sounds could be shut out if one thought about the happier past, when he’d slipped out with his brother to watch the moon come up or to star gaze.
Fritz had died in the invasion of Poland. He’d loved to fly, but they were both too old for this war.
His legs started to cramp. The thrashing around and shouting seemed to have died down, but he wasn’t eager to run into a patrol in the dark. They’d be even more jumpy now. What had set them off, he wondered? As near as he could tell, they were closing in from all directions, with Dieter’s compound and the aerodrome as the center points.
Who was directing the search? As commandant of the area, they should have informed him, unless this was a power play by Ullstein or Kass. What had happened to them that they turned on each other and the world? The Russians were our friends, then they weren’t. We invade England, now we don’t. The American’s enter the war because of the Japanese. It was insane. The whole world seemed to have gone mad and the Fuhrer with it.
The glow of the horizon seemed greater than just the compound, which made sense. Why not target the aerodrome? If that glow were any indication, it had been a good night for the RAF. And a bad night for them.
He started quietly forward again but keeping low. Didn’t hurt to keep his profile smaller against the horizon, though it hurt his back. He paused to rub the aching spot and realized he could see, or was that sense, movement just ahead of him? Was that also the murmur of voices?
* * * * *
When the first shot sounded, Mel, Jack and Larsen threw themselves to the ground. There were way too many people thrashing around in the dark, Mel decided. How ironic if they got plugged by accident. At least it would take the decision out of her hands. It was one thing to contemplate activating her dead man’s watch, a whole other thing to do it.
“What if that’s the underground they are shooting at,” Jack said. “If they catch them, they may be satisfied they’ve gotten who they came for.”
It was a nice thought, but it was hard to believe that Mouy and his friends, who knew the countryside, would be more easily caught than them. She pointed this out and heard Jack sigh. For a scientist, he sure resisted the logical.
Mel, she was trying to resist thinking too much. Maybe if she joked enough, she wouldn’t notice the moment…
She shook her head.
“We can’t wait any longer. We don’t know how long it will take to form.”
“The presence of three people could make it unstable,” Jack objected. “If we knew more…”
“Well, we don’t.” Mel sat up and looked at Larsen. “This is going to sound strange…”
“Stranger than what you’ve already been saying?”
“Actually…yeah.” It hard to keep her voice matter-of-fact, “Once I’m… gone…you need to both hang on to me as tight as you can. And as long as you can. It won’t be easy.”
Larsen was quiet for a moment. “You’re right, that is more bizarre. What’s going on?”
“There’s no time to explain,” Jack said. “Just trust me when I say, we’re going to take a ride.”
His gaze bored into her. Mel could feel it, even though she wasn’t looking at him. She didn’t dare. She might not have the courage to trigger the device and leave him.
“Let’s get this gear off, Larsen.” Jack’s voice sounded tight. “We won’t need it where we’re going.”
“Should I take mine off, too?” Mel asked. It would lessen their overall weight, though she had no idea if that mattered to the vortex. It wasn’t a stall. There wasn’t time for it…
Jack hesitated. “Maybe you better.”
Mel shrugged off the heavy coat, shivering as the night air made an immediate assault on what was left of her clothing. A crackle of papers reminded her they were in her pocket. She wished she could burn them, but it probably wasn’t a good idea in their current circumstances. Instead, she stuffed them between her money belt and her body, hoping they’d make it all the way with her.
The two men’s movements were slow and almost awkward as they undid belts and buttons and straps. Helmets and coats were cast aside.
That just left the goggles. Almost absently she lifted them for one last look—
“Bogey at three o’clock,” she hissed, dropping to her stomach. She didn’t realize how good her SEAL training had been until she realized she was holding the Luger, with her free hand, the goggles still pressed to her eyes. “And another one at seven.”
* * * * *
Kass stopped, using a tree for shelter as he listened. He’d heard voices first and now he thought he saw three soldiers, only why were they removing their coats and helmets? With rising excitement, he realized it must be the underground.
He eased forward, moving as quietly as he could, his weapon ready. One of the figures dropped to the ground. How had they spotted him? He raised his weapon, took aim at one of the standing figures and pulled the trigger. His shot had an echo—
One of the figures fell, even as something punched him in the chest, knocking him back a step. He tried to call out, but he couldn’t inhale for some reason. He looked down, but it was too dark to see…
Weakness spread out from his chest. His fingers opened. The gun dropped to the ground as his knees buckled…
* * * * *
Mel saw the man’s arm lift, sighted and fired, her shot almost on top of his. The neon green figure staggered once, stood there for a moment, then sagged to his knees and fell forward on his face. He didn’t move again. There was an exclamation from the other bogey. She turned that direction and saw a figure crouched about twenty yards away. He was partially behind a tree. Not a good shot.
“Larsen’s been hit,” Jack said.
Mel dropped the goggles. Jack, in a crouch, was half supporting Larsen. Mel closed the brief distance between them, pulled off her glove and felt for a pulse. Even in the uncertain light, Mel could see the dark line trailing from his slack mouth.
In the distance there were more sh
outs and the crashing of bodies through the underbrush, heading their direction.
“He’s gone.” And she’d just killed someone. It didn’t feel real. More like a simulation than anything, except this had been a man, not a cutout figure. Maybe later she’d think about that. But there was no time now. Only time to act and hope—
“I’ve got to do it now. They’re coming.”
“Actually, I am here,” a courteous voice said from the direction of the last bogey. He looked exactly like a cut out, against the deeper dark of the foliage. She mentally cursed herself for getting distracted from him.
Thorhaus. And he just had to be the one guy she knew she couldn’t shoot without impacting the timeline. Great.
“You speak English,” Jack said, sounding shocked.
What was he doing wandering around in the woods? They’d left him safely in his car. He’d be lucky if one of own guys didn’t shoot him.
She had to die…and hope it would be enough…
She dropped her Luger and eased the goggles inside her sweater, hoping he wouldn’t notice her movements in the darkness—though it might actually be easier if he shot her…
“Hang on to me,” she said, her voice pitched for Jack’s ears alone. She felt for the button that would release the cyanide—
Jack’s hand clamped on hers.
“Jack—“ she started to object, but he cut her off.
“Look.”
At first she didn’t understand, then she realized it was getting…lighter. She looked up. The stars were twisting and thinning into silken strands of silver light that grew brighter with each passing second. Slowly, almost painfully slowly, the strands started to form around an invisible center. A breeze ruffled her hair as the strands moved faster and faster.
“Is it my vortex?” Jack had to raise his voice to be heard above the building wind.
Mel wasn’t sure. She hadn’t seen it forming, but what else could it be? Was it early or was she late?
The dark center tightened and the silver part widened. Then, like a tornado reaching down to the earth, the center came toward her—or toward her tush, to be more accurate. The roar of it filled the air around them. It stirred up the dirt and brush. She couldn’t see Thorhaus anymore. Or Larsen’s body.
“Jack.” She couldn’t lose him now. She followed the hand that still gripped hers until she found his shoulders and threw her arms around his neck. “Hang on!”
His grabbed her back and she buried her face in his shoulder. He held her so tight she couldn’t breathe. She didn’t care. The howl grew louder, the wind wilder. She had to look up. She couldn’t help herself.
Now it didn’t look that different from the last time, except that it was inverted.
“This is going to be rough,” she shouted.
The tip was almost on them. Debris pelted her face. She hid her face again, unable to watch.
Wind swirled around them and she felt her feet lift off the ground, and then they were in the heart of Jack’s creation.
* * * * *
Thorhaus rose to his feet, staring at the sky as it began to twist and deform like some mad dream. He’d never seen anything like it. It was beautiful and terrifying. Perhaps it was God’s wrath on them all for making war…
As the tip came down, he realized it was heading right for the two men. They clutched each other, like embracing lovers. It was odd, but nothing compared to the whirling, silver sky.
He tried to push his way to them. They needed help. But the wind threw him back like he was a small toy.
He lay on his face, trying to burrow into the icy ground as the freak storm raged over him.
It howled.
It roared.
Branches and bits of dirt pelted him. It was the end…
There was a sudden rushing sound that seemed to drag the wind away from him. He rolled over in time to see it turn in on itself and then the sky closed again and only the stars twinkled, as if it all been in his imagination.
He struggled to his feet and staggered toward the spot where he’d seen them and tripped over something. Something soft. He finally remembered he had a flashlight and pulled it out, letting the small circle of light play over the face.
Kass.
He felt for a pulse but was not surprised there wasn’t one. He should be angry or even sad, but all he could think was the trouble this would cause for the locals…
Even as he looked down at his dead aide’s surprised face, the area began to fill with his men. There was a shout.
“There another body, Herr Oberst.”
Thorhaus rose wearily and walked over to the man. His light showed a young face wiped clean of everything but surprise.
One of his men searched the body. With an exclamation of surprise, he handed Thorhaus the man’s identification tags.
“It appears they have shot each other, Herr Oberst,” the man said. “Is he one of the missing fliers?”
“Yes,” Thorhaus said. His thoughts still whirled like the anomaly he’d just seen. “Did…you… see…anything…else?”
The man jumped to attention, saluting smartly. “In addition to the three members of the underground, Herr Oberst? Herr Ullstein is most pleased.”
I’m sure he is, Thorhaus thought, but did you see that great, big silver…thing? Only it was clear they hadn’t. How could that be? It almost seemed as if…it had cleaned up after itself.
The couple he’d seen was gone. And if they were two guys, well, he wasn’t Eugen Thorhaus. If this dead boy were one of the three fliers, then were they the others from The Time Machine? With a jolt of shock, he realized what he’d seen looked something like the artwork on the plane’s fuselage. Time machine. Time machine? Was it possible? It couldn’t be…and yet…something had happened here, something only he had seen or could remember seeing? Had his proximity to that thing affected him differently than the men?
His headache turned into a raging throb. He wanted to return to his quarters and think, but this situation could spin terribly out of control. Ullstein had been waiting for something like this to use as a lesson for the locals. There’d be reprisals for sure.
Thorhaus knelt by the young man, while the soldier’s flashlight played over his face. So young. So brave. He fooled me, he through wryly, remembering him sitting so calmly next to him in the car. And where are your companions? The driver, the one who spoke such excellent German. He’d looked back at him and Thorhaus had caught a glimpse of…what? Had that been a woman and not a man? He had the other crew members. He could ask them if a woman had been on the plane. Whether they’d tell him…he shrugged mentally. No matter what else happened here, he would never tell Ullstein.
“Is anyone else…hurt?” Thorhaus asked. He reached out and closed the young man’s eye lids. He hoped someone had done this service for his son…
“Only the Leutnant, Herr Oberst,” one of the men said.
Thorhaus swept his flashlight over the area. It didn’t even looked windblown. “We’re through here. Where is Herr Ullstein?”
“He is at the aerodrome, Herr Oberst.”
“Then we will take the bodies there,” Thorhaus decided.
It wasn’t as far as he’d thought it would be and was a sobering sight, even with most of the fires extinguished. I’m old and tired. Thorhaus rubbed his face wearily as he directed one of his men to find Ullstein.
He returned very quickly. “There has been an…” he stopped, a look of uncertainty on his face. “The men we captured attempted an escape. They were all killed, but—“
“But what?” Thorhaus was too tired for any more drama.
“Herr Ullstein has been killed.”
It was almost too much to take in. His head ached and his body felt buffeted, but there was also a sense of reprieve. Berlin would send someone to replace him, but for now…
Thorhaus straightened his shoulders. “Is anyone in charge here? We will deal with the loss later. For now we need to restore order.”
There would
be reports to write, but there didn’t seem to be anyone left to tell him how to write them. Ever since he’d seen Kass, he’d feared what would be required of him. Now, finally, he knew what he had to do…
…and what he’d never do, no matter what.
* * * * *
Jack hung on to Mel with all he had, but it wasn’t going to be enough. He knew it, even as he struggled against it. She’d said it would be bad and she was right. The wind ripped at him, trying to wrench her away from him. He could feel her fingers digging into him—and he could feel them sliding—across his back. He dug his fingers in so hard, he knew he must be bruising her, but still the distance between them increased. From her back, his grip slipped to her shoulders. Then to her upper arms. …he had her by the wrists.He wouldn’t let go of her hands…but he did….…fingers tried to twist and grip…...finger tips…“Jack!” He heard her call out. He didn’t have time to say her name before she was gone.
Chapter Eighteen
Present Day
“Jack…”
The sound of her voice jerked her awake. She opened her eyes. Where…she was lying on her stomach. She spread her fingers across the surface. It was soft. And she could see Sunbonnet Girls. She was home in Wyoming.
She rolled onto her back, her breathing a bit rapid. Man, that was some dream. It had been so vivid…she felt…disoriented.
Daylight streamed in through the windows, bathing her in comforting warmth. She rolled to her side, then sat up, her feet hanging off the side of the bed. Her booted feet. And she was dressed in black…
She looked up and saw a reflection in the mirror of the vanity opposite…that could not be her.
She touched her face and saw the mirror reflect the movement. She moved her shoulders and those shoulders moved. Okay, so it was her, but…what…
It wasn’t a dream. It happened. She’d been there. Now she was here.
Home. She was home.
She’d been in the vortex with…Jack.
Jack.
She couldn’t think about him right now. She couldn’t deal with—
She was home. Focus on that.
Out of Time Page 28
