Glassford Girl: Boxed Set (Complete Series) (Time Jumper Series)

by Jay J. Falconer

  “Emily, wake up,” a male voice said, becoming clearer with each word that landed on her eardrums. Whoever was talking to her continued to shake her, adding to her post-jump pain and nausea.

  “Come on, girl, talk to me. Em! Please! Wake up! I need you to breathe.”

  The unexpected last few words took root in her synapses, making her realize she wasn’t breathing. Her lungs fired, taking in a huge gulp of air that inflated her chest. She coughed and then took another series of breaths, adding a bit of energy to her body.

  “Oh, thank God. I thought I’d lost you there for a moment.”

  The voice was crystal-clear now. She recognized it. Her lips moved to speak, but only in a whisper. “Derek? Is that you?”

  “I’m here, babe. It’s good to hear your voice. Are you okay?”

  “Get them off of me.”

  “Them, what?”

  “Leeches.”

  “Leeches?”

  “They’re all over me,” she said, a little louder this time. She managed to move one hand, passing it over her nipple, chest, and stomach, trying to knock the creatures off. “Get them off, please!”

  Derek grabbed her hand and held it to his chest. “Em, I can see just about every inch of you. There’s nothing there. I need you to stay calm and rest. You’re safe. Just breathe, and save your energy.”

  Then it hit her. The jump. Nakedness. Nothing goes through the transformation process except her body. The blue fire must have consumed the bloodsucking organisms, ridding her body of the threat.

  “I jumped. Back now. So tired,” she muttered, trying to keep her thoughts straight.

  Derek’s gentle hands rolled her on her side. Somehow he must have known what was about to come next. Right on cue, the nausea came and she vomited—twice. She didn’t know if any of it landed on him, her eyelids were still too heavy to open.

  “Someone get her a blanket!” Derek yelled, his voice sounding like it was aimed away from her.

  Emily heard the whoop of sirens and they were getting louder. Nearby, she heard people moving about in what sounded like dirt and grass. Then more sensory input started to register: the crunch of glass. Flames crackling. The smell of smoke and burnt wood. People talking. A cell phone’s ringtone and someone answering it in Spanish. A woman crying. Two car doors. A dragging sound. A powerful sneeze. Tape squeaking while being pulled from a dispenser. The clatter of metal on metal.

  Her mind continued to clear, allowing her sixth sense to function. Several people must have been focused on her because all their thoughts and emotions poured into her at the same time.

  One man, elderly by his mental tone and imagery, thought she reminded him of his granddaughter, Amber, in Oklahoma. Something about cheesecake and autism.

  Another person—a young girl, who was having a sleepover at her cousin’s house, wanted the neighborhood men to drag Derek away, thinking he might be the person responsible for what happened. The girl was afraid for Emily, wanting someone to protect her and cover her up.

  “Here, this will help,” Derek whispered in her ear. A moment later, a blanket draped across her body. She grabbed it and curled up, tucking it tightly under her chin to warm up.

  “It’s time to get you out of here. Right now.”

  Emily felt his powerful arms slide under her ribcage and cradle her legs, and then she rose from the ground. His touch was both electrifying and soothing at the same time, cutting through the pain and nausea. She knew she was safe with Derek watching over her.

  She wanted to talk to him, to look at him, to kiss him, but she was too tired. Sleep was the most important thing right now. Her mind drifted off and she passed out.

  * * *

  Jim Miller stood on sore knees with a bandage wrapped around his head, watching the ambulance pull away from his house with its lights flashing and siren roaring. Alison’s partner was in the back—he was badly injured.

  Jim remembered him as being the person closest to the intruder’s briefcase when it exploded. Dozens of shards of metal must have hit him before his body went crashing through a solid fence post. One of his eyes had been obliterated and his face looked like someone had run it through a wood chipper. But his injuries didn’t stop there. His shoulder looked to be dislocated and his arm had suffered a compound fracture just above the wrist joint. The paramedics thought the fluid expansion in his chest was due to a massive blow, possibly internal bleeding, but they could not be sure.

  Everyone standing near the briefcase had gone crashing through the fence and landed in his neighbor’s yard. However, when he came to, Emily and Derek weren’t there. He could only assume the kids woke up first and made a run for it.

  Can’t blame them, Miller thought. Emily—who’d disappeared months earlier—didn’t need to get involved with the police, and Derek wasn’t a fan, either. He hadn’t seen the girl since the night Emily vanished, until they’d both shown up in his back yard that afternoon—right after Miller had caught a strange-looking man with orange skin skulking around his property and brandishing a weapon straight out of Star Trek.

  Miller had disarmed him, and that’s when things took an unexpected turn: the gun self-destructed, and then the prowler disappeared with a loud bang and a flash of light after being covered in a cocoon of static blue energy. To top it all off, the Orange Man’s briefcase sizzled, crackled, and jumped around before it exploded. The damage to his home was extensive, indicating the blast was massive. It was a miracle everyone wasn’t killed, a fact he couldn’t reconcile.

  Jim turned to Alison, who was standing with him when the ambulance pulled away. “Okay, Alice. Cut the shit. Why were you parked out front of my house—on a stakeout? I’ve told you repeatedly that I don’t know anything about the Glassford Girl, as you call her.”

  “If that’s true, then how do you explain her presence in your back yard when all hell broke loose?”

  “All I know is I saved her from being raped by a bunch of gangbangers the night she and I first met.”

  “Yeah, you keep saying that.”

  “Look, I just got out of the hospital, for fuck’s sake, because I got shot that night by members of your force. Or have you forgotten about that little tidbit?”

  “No, I haven’t forgotten, but you still haven’t answered my question. Why were they on your property?”

  “It’s pretty damn simple. I heard a noise and went out back to investigate when bam! I ran into her and the kid from the hospital. Your guess is as good as mine as to why they were here.”

  “Jesus, you must think me a fool.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Detective Alison looked at his feet and sighed with a look of disappointment. He made eye contact again with Jim. “I might be old, but I’m not stupid. You do know something. I can feel it in my bones.”

  “It’s probably just that gash in your head talking, old friend.”

  “That’s the way you want to play it?”

  Miller shrugged, not knowing what else to say.

  “Tell me, who the hell was that muscle-bound freak with the bad spray-on tan? And that epileptic briefcase?”

  Miller shook his head. “Never seen him before in my life. Or that case.”

  “He was obviously here for a reason. There has to be some explanation. I can’t leave that section blank in my incident report when I write this up.”

  “And say what? That some unknown Orange Man with unknown technology tried to break into my house for some unknown reason, and then mysteriously disappeared with a bang, leaving no trace behind? All this after two suspects snuck past you and your partner while you were on stakeout?”

  “I see your point.”

  “Yeah, they’ll think you’re incompetent and completely nuts. Probably put you on leave for an obvious concussion and toss in a little post-traumatic stress to keep the department shrink busy for months.”

  “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

  “I’d suggest you tell ‘em I was out back lighting my gas gr
ill when it exploded. Keep it simple. You and I can figure the rest out together. No reason to mention Emily or the kid, or the rest of it. Nobody saw dick, other than you and me.”

  “Except my partner.”

  “From the looks of it, he’s not gonna be talking anytime soon. Chances are he won’t remember much, if anything. If he does, spin it, and say his injuries are affecting his memory of the events. They’ll take you at your word, especially if I back you up.”

  “What do I tell his wife? She’s gonna want answers.”

  “Not the truth about Orange Man and his briefcase, that’s for sure. Just tell her that her husband was doing his job and helping others. It’s essentially the truth.”

  Alison nodded and grunted a surrender. “I am already on thin ice with the captain. I’m sure he cringes every time one of my reports hits his desk. Probably has a special place in his filing cabinet just for me.”

  “Then it’s settled?”

  “Only if you come clean, and I mean right now. No more bullshit about the girl.”

  Miller studied Alison while he decided whether to let his fellow Marine in on what he knew about Emily Heart. Their time in the service together was now ancient history, but the bonds between them were strong and transcended time. They’d been forged in the heat of battle in the Middle East, long before civilian life in the USA had gotten in the way.

  “Well? What’s it going to be?” Alison asked, shooting Jim a look of frustration.

  Miller decided to give Alison the benefit of the doubt. “You’re right. I do know her, but not nearly as well as you suspect. Her name is Emily Heart. And you already know the kid is Derek Morgan. They asked me to keep it all quiet. Neither of them is a fan of law enforcement, and I can’t blame them. Can you?”

  “Fair enough. But who is she to you? Some teenage girl who runs around town, showing up randomly at crime scenes without a stitch of clothes on? And how is the Morgan kid involved with her, or is it the other way around?”

  “I told you, Derek showed up out of the blue at my hospital room that same day when your head did the tango with the bedpan. Never seem him before that day. As for the girl, I’ve been working on a story about her for some time now. She comes and goes around town, always seeming to pop up in trouble spots. I can’t quite get a handle on her.”

  “Ditto here. Always in the wrong place at the wrong time. Then she’s gone. Like the night of your little cowboy act with the rival gangs. That was some seriously bad shit, Millsy. My boss thinks you’re behind it all, but he can’t prove it. Tell me I’m not backing the wrong horse here.”

  “No, Alice, I’m not responsible for any of it. But I am trying to find out who is. I’ll make you a deal. Come by the restaurant tomorrow morning, early. Before we open. You show me yours, I’ll show you mine.”

  Miller put his hand out for a shake.

  Alison grabbed his hand and they shook on it. “Tomorrow then,” he said, before walking away.

  I’ll be damned, Miller thought, watching Alison get in his car. The cops were staking me out. And Alison’s boss thinks I’m up to no good. With a naked teenage girl, no less. Fuck.

  Miller went around the back of the house to take pictures of the carnage for the insurance claim he planned to file. It was one of the weirdest blasts he’d ever seen. None of the damage was consistent or uniform, as he expected it would be, and he had no idea how they’d all survived.

  The strange case of Emily Heart just kept getting stranger.

  * * *

  Derek needed to rest after carrying Emily in his arms for over a mile after their escape from the gawking crowd at Jim Miller’s place. He bent over and carefully put Emily’s unconscious body on the park bench near the memorial statue of the local military hero, Pat Tillman.

  Standing in front of him was an immense granite statue. He read the dedication plaque, with his emotions leading the charge. When he finished the last few words etched in stone for all of eternity, a rippling static charge crawled out of the cool Arizona air and landed on his neck. It traveled across his skin and dug into his spine, filling him with an unexpected surge of admiration and patriotism.

  He remembered reading a quote somewhere about what it means to be a man. It said a man is the sum of his actions, of what he has done, or what he can do—nothing else. Derek lifted his eyes and stared into the eyes of the heroic figure above him, letting the moment soak into his soul.

  A short minute later, the words he had read about what it meant to be a man finally made sense to him. Pat Tillman was such a man. A selfless, dedicated individual who aspired to make the world a better place. Pat paid the ultimate sacrifice while serving and protecting others, something Derek wondered if he could do, if given the chance. It takes a special man to give up everything without a second thought for himself, and for total strangers.

  He sat on the edge of the park bench next to Emily, being careful not to wake her. He made sure to keep her body covered with the blanket, not wanting the cool air to make her sick.

  While he waited, he decided to take stock of his less than stellar life thus far. He thought about his troubled past and the horrendous choices he’d made. Dread filled his body as each memory flashed, revealing his loathsome self. What he saw made him feel sick and ashamed. He wasn’t proud of any of it. Not a single thing, other than he was still alive and not currently in prison.

  He searched his memory, but couldn’t remember a single selfless act. Not one time did he do anything for anyone other than himself; at least not before he met Emily. That’s when everything started to change. All of it due to a single chance meeting in the basement of a restaurant. Was it fate? Happenstance? Luck? He wasn’t sure what to call it.

  He smiled, realizing that Emily was the only thing that mattered to him. She made him happy. She gave him a reason to exist. She filled all the voids lurking inside his putrid soul. Without her, he was incomplete. A shell. A waste of skin. With her at his side, he was a whole person. He mattered.

  Derek stroked her hair with a trembling hand, wondering if she’d run from him if she knew about all the terrible things he’d done in his short life. He shook his head, knowing that she deserved better. He wasn’t good enough for her—not unless he found a way to change, and make amends for being a total douche.

  “Be more like Pat,” he mumbled.

  To do that, he needed to rise above his petty, selfish nature and grow up. It was time to take responsibility and stop blaming others. That’s what he decided to do. For Emily, and for himself. It was clear to him now. A man needs a purpose in order to achieve and become more than he is. Derek decided right then and there that Emily was going to be his sole focus moving forward.

  The innocent face lying before him looked peaceful, even though he knew she’d been through hell and back. He marveled at her outer beauty, which was just as striking as her inner beauty, even without makeup or a bath. She was a true beacon of strength in a world of chaos, a world filled with hate, despair, and endless violence.

  Something obviously happened when Emily jumped away, only to return a few minutes later—at least that’s what Emily had mumbled. He wanted to know every detail and find a way to help her, but he knew she wouldn’t share any of it until she was damn good and ready. The Orange Man and his briefcase were involved in what had happened to her a long time ago, at least that’s what she had told him. He wished she would trust him with the whole truth. Emily was complicated and cautious, that much was obvious. She had her reasons for not sharing everything, and he needed to accept that. He would bring it up again, but not until the time was right. Whatever that meant.

  Emily stirred on the bench, turning over and stretching her arms while letting out a long groan. She opened her beautiful, soft eyes and looked at Derek.

  He smiled, letting a tear fall. “Hey there, beautiful. Nice of you to join the living,” he said, not able to hold back an ear-to-ear smile.

  Her lips formed a pucker and kissed the back of his hand ever so gentl
y. She held his hand to her cheek for a three-count, then looked up. “Where are we?”

  “In the park. I carried you here after the explosion. Needed to get you away from all the gawkers.”

  She sat up, letting the blanket fall from her chest. She wrapped her arms around Derek, squeezing him tightly.

  “You always protect me. Keep me safe. I don’t know what I’d do without you,” she said before making cute, affectionate cooing sounds, turning his insides to jelly.

  He put his arms around her to make sure she knew he felt the same way. He wanted to kiss her, but decided to wait until she was ready.

  “What about Jim and the cops?” she asked, sitting back. She tugged the blanket up to cover herself.

  “Not sure since we woke up first. But from what I could see, I don’t think Jim was too bad. Neither was Alison. But his partner got totally jacked. Blood everywhere. He’s gonna need some new body parts.”

  “Damn it. I should have done more,” she muttered.

  “What?”

  “Nothing, just trying to clear the cobwebs.” She yawned. “I’m so tired. I could sleep for a week.”

  “What was all that before? Something about leeches?”

  “Beats me. Must have been hallucinating. I was pretty out of it after my jump. Just chalk it up to being part of the same nightmare that never seems to end. We should probably find a place to crash for the night.”

  “Already on it,” Derek said, pointing at the Fourth Street road sign twenty feet away. They were three blocks from Jim Miller’s restaurant, The Fourth Street Café and Eatery.

  “I saw a place the night you disappeared from that police van, while it was still under construction. It’s a high-rise condo that should be close to finished by now. If it is, they’ll have a demo unit to show people looking to buy—all done up nice. Furniture, bed, everything. Just need to get you inside so you can rest. I have to be at my group home by nine thirty, or I get sent back to juvie.”