The Pocket Watch

by Michael Shaw

  I remembered. When I went through Eclipse’s security, they scanned the pocket watch thoroughly. It was as though they wanted to give it special attention. And when we were leaving, those same men that had scanned it were printing something out.

  “Eclipse was making prints of your time machine as we were walking out the door.” Hunter explained, confirming my thoughts. He took in a deep breath. “We’ll have a working prototype soon. And now, we can even improve on it.”

  I felt myself lose control of my body. Everything was numb. I watched Hunter loom over me. My ears picked up sirens from far in the distance.

  “When you called us up, asking for help, I brought it to some of the bosses, including Donald.” He stopped at Donald, saying his name with obvious contempt. “When you arrived, and Donald realized that it had attached to you, he figured, why not use you while it still had some juice left? And so came the mission, which I somehow got stuck doing with you…” He clenched a fist.

  “But you never deleted the video.”

  “That’ll be easy now,” he replied, dismissing it. “I’ll come back and do it with my own time machine. No one will be able to get in the way of that, especially now that yours is demolished. All that would be left is for me to kill you…”

  The redness spread further and further across my body.

  “But I guess that job’s already being done for me.” He breathed out through his nose, slowing his tempo. He stayed silent for a few moments, and then he looked out across the street. “You asked me what happened to my cousin. Do you still want to know?”

  I winced with each jolt throughout my body.

  “Donald murdered him,” he said, his voice quieting down. He hesitated. “My cousin didn’t get a mission done in time. Donald accused him of ‘slacking’ for too long. Eclipse has to be efficient…” He scratched his chin. “Maybe he’ll try to get rid of me, too, when I come back…”

  I clenched my hands into fists and tried to stifle my cries.

  He sighed. “We really could have used you at Eclipse, Jon.”

  “You’ve already done plenty of that,” I groaned.

  “You just weren’t the man your father was. Such a shame.”

  “My father?” My breathing rate increased.

  “You still don’t know?” He knelt down again, putting his face deathly close to mine. “George Ashe was one of the forefathers of a new, underground empire: Eclipse Technologies.”

  I shook my head, picturing everything that Eclipse had done, namely through Hunter. There was no way my father could have been involved in a such a murderous, thieving organization. “No. He couldn’t-”

  “He invented the portals, Jon. And Midas?” He held his hand up in front of me. “From the mind of George Ashe, himself.”

  I stared at the glove wrapped around Hunter’s hand, still in disbelief.

  “Potential dangers, among other things, made the stuff difficult to get any backing. And when he invented the false QRI printer? Well, that was just plain illegal.”

  “I will not believe that my father invented the machine that gives fake Marks-”

  “So he needed to start something on his own,” he continued on. “A group that could dedicate itself to innovations like this.” He held the Midas glove before his eyes. “He and a group of like-minded individuals started Eclipse.”

  I shook my head, refusing to believe it. “No…”

  “Startup was hard of course. But he was already CEO of Luna computers, which provided help easily.” He shrugged. “All he had to do was steal Luna’s technology, resources, and of course, finances, without getting caught.” His eyes gazed off onto the street, at Alex’s body. “But then his friend and coworker, Jarod Nelson, found out.” He gave a sarcastic sigh of concern. “And that was when he had to get his hands even dirtier.” He returned his gaze to my writhing self. “Thus came the events of that video you saw.”

  I bit my lip, furious.

  “Don’t let it get to you, Jon.” He leaned in and whispered, “That’s not the first time daddy had to do something like that.”

  That tipped me over the edge. Everything burst out of me. I couldn’t get up, but I could scream. “No!” I bit at him. “You’re lying!”

  “I’m not.”

  “You’re a liar! That’s all you do!” I growled.

  “I still wonder why he hid the watch with you, Jon.” Hunter stood and backed up from me. “Maybe Eclipse wasn’t ready.”

  “He wasn’t with Eclipse!” I asserted.

  “But it sure is ready now,” he exhaled.

  Blue light began to flash, bouncing off the buildings and the street.

  “Oh, and Steven Edward?” He shook his head. “Untraceable. Even if we wanted to, Eclipse wouldn’t be able to find him for you.”

  My breaths were shortening. I could hardly even inhale.

  “You failed, my friend. You lost. Just close your eyes and die, Jonathan.” Hunter watched me, backing away further.

  I squinted my eyes shut, feeling the red energy completely overcome me.

  “Maybe when you close your eyes, you’ll see a man with a scar.”

  I forced my eyes open. What? I looked his way.

  Hunter was gone.

  This was it. Darkness started to encompass my vision, and I couldn’t breathe anymore. I had lost. I had done everything I could just to find a way to let my parents live. I just wanted to fix the chaos of my past, but it ended up causing even more turmoil for the present.

  Before it fully overcame me, I remember seeing dark clad police officers emerge from parked cars. They were approaching me cautiously, but behind them, a shadowy figure emerged. The silhouette leaped out and attacked them.

  I gave in and closed my eyes, realizing death had finally found me. And I had been foolish enough to think I could beat it. Reverse it. Prevent it. On the back of my eyelids, I saw Hunter Calhoun, a pesky grin across his face. And then I saw what he said I would.

  I saw the man with the scar.

  ∞

  For a long time I lay in darkness. Flying in and out of my head were pictures. Images from my past, and from those who I had contacted with the pocket watch. David Kemp. Hunter Calhoun. Everything mixed together. I had tried to prove David wrong. I had tried to be more than just the college graduate with his father’s time machine. But David and Hunter were right. I was nothing without the pocket watch. And now, I had suffered the ultimate failure. I couldn’t save anyone; I couldn’t even save myself.

  Eventually all the memories faded away, and so did I. I didn’t know what was happening, but my mind did not care. I thought I was going to die. But something brought me back.

  A bright light hit my eyelids. I squinted. The last time I had felt my heartbeat, it was racing uncontrollably. Now, it pumped steadily. I breathed in and out through my nose. Calm. Peace. A light tone repeated on a rhythm. I opened my eyes.

  My vision had to adjust to the bright room. A feeling of sterility filled the place. White walls, white floor. I thought back to all the times I had been in the hospital. Klara Medical had treated Jason before he died. Mrs. Nelson, too. I had been there several times. But it was always for someone else. Was I in a hospital bed now? Was I in Klara Medical?

  I rolled my head over. An IV stuck in my right arm. Monitors displaying my heart rate and other vitals. I flexed my arm. No more red, popping veins.

  A door to my right opened up. It looked oddly different than the rest of the room. It was wooden. Painted off-white. A man entered slowly.

  I strained my eyes, still groggy. I adjusted my posture in the bed. My limbs ached.

  He was an older gentleman, maybe in his sixties. I saw wrinkles on his face, but he was thin and fit. He wore a green cardigan and black jeans, and he held a somber smile on his face. “You’re awake.”

  I tried to make out who this was. Had I seen him before? “I am,” I said, unsure of the situation.

  He closed the door and examined my monitors.

  “Am I
at Klara Medical?” I asked.

  He glanced at me. “What?” He chuckled. His voice was smooth. For a moment, it calmed my nerves. “No, you’re in my house.”

  That immediately made me nervous again. “What? Who are you?”

  He took a step back, holding his hands behind his back. “You can call me Steven.”

  Chapter 32

  Steven Edward. It was the Steven Edward; the man who had invented the pocket watch with my father. How did I end up in his house?

  He helped me get up and walk around. Slowly. It had been two days, he said. Eventually, he gave me some clothes and let me come out of the white room, into his home.

  I emerged from the room and into a warm hallway. Soft carpet. A few doors were on both sides, and one stood at the very end. On the other end was a descending wooden stair case.

  “Coffee?” He asked, walking down the stairs. “I’m sure you have a lot of questions.”

  “I do.” I followed after him curiously. The staircase went down to the ground floor, leaving us in a nice living room area. “Lots of questions, actually. Where are we located, exactly? And… How did you find me? And-”

  “Whoa, whoa.” He turned and stopped me short. “You need to answer my question first. Is that a ‘no’ on the coffee?”

  ∞

  His house was comfortable, but practical. There were not many decorations around, and I only saw a few picture frames on his book-shelfs, of which there were plenty. At least one in every room, in fact, all full of different books. All the floors were wooden. Outside the windows were green pastures and countryside. The view looked like we were up on a hill. Much of what I saw in this place was new, but I simultaneously felt as though some part of this house were familiar.

  “Please, take a seat.” He nodded to the kitchen table and walked over to the counter, pulling two mugs out of the cupboard.

  I slowly descended into a dark wooden chair and rested my hands on the circular table.

  He poured two cups. I noticed his hands shake as he did. Carefully, he walked over and handed me one. I held it in my right hand. My skin caught my eye. All traces of the ailment were gone. I flexed my fingers. “Mr. Edward,” I said.

  “Just Steven,” he nodded, sitting down across from me.

  I glanced at him. “Steven, right.” I searched my arm up and down. “How did you… My hand, and arm…”

  He raised an eyebrow. “You do have a lot of questions, don’t you, Jonathan Ashe?”

  “You know me?” I replied. My eyes lowered to my left arm. My Mark should have said that I was Adam Clarke. My passport and license, too.

  “Relax. I’ve known that you were in possession of the pocket watch for a long time.” He rolled up his sleeves.

  I glimpsed at his Mark.

  “I’ll tell you everything I can, all right?” He folded his hands together and smiled. “And then I’ll make dinner.”

  We held eye contact for a few moments. I broke gaze and looked around the room. The low sunlight illuminated specs of dust in the air. Steven held a Christmas mug, in the middle of May. I noticed a camera on the counter. I felt I had seen it before.

  Who is this strange man? I dragged the mug closer to me. It had a snowman on it. I returned my eyes to the man sitting across the table. His sincere grin stared me in the face. I took a deep breath. “Are you…” I examined his face closely. “Are you the man who’s been following me?”

  He looked to the side, seeing his camera on the counter.

  My skin started to crawl. This man was walking on the fine line between helpful and creepy. But he was the one with answers. He was half of the mind behind the pocket watch. I needed to know what he knew.

  I leaned forward. “You have no idea what I’ve been through over the past week,” I said. It made me stop. Everything that had happened only covered a span of days. All of the pain. The deaths. Just a week. Saying it out loud, I couldn’t believe it. “So… So if you know something that I don’t, I need to hear it.”

  “Jonathan, have you wondered why no police have ever caught you since you went on the run?”

  I watched his eyes. He was completely serious. “You’ve been protecting me?”

  He took a sip of his coffee. “I guess I’ll start my story there, then.”

  ∞

  I listened quietly to Steven Edward explain.

  “I knew your father for a little over five years,” he began. “One day, George’s gears started turning, and he had an idea. Eventually, it turned into a project. And after much work, it turned into the pocket watch.” His eyes lowered to the liquid in his cup. “But the world wasn’t ready for it. Who knows if it ever will be…” He looked up at me. “He left it with you shortly before he was killed. He did it on purpose, Jon. He trusted that someday, when the time was right, you’d use it wisely.”

  My heart sank; I thought of the past week. Had I used the watch with the wisdom that my father expected of me? Here I sat, and everyone that I still cared about after had been killed. A lump grew in my throat. I wanted to break down right there and mourn for the people I’d lost. But I held it back.

  “After he was murdered, I went into hiding.” He tapped his fingers on the table, watching them with his eyes. “If someone had killed him because of the watch, then I could be in danger too. If someone went after him because they knew what he was creating,” he looked into my eyes, “then what would that mean for me?”

  I swallowed, watching the fear in his expression.

  “But I remembered that you had the watch. All that time, I knew someday, something big would happen. And when you popped onto the news all of a sudden, with allegations of stolen property, murder,” he nodded, I knew I had to act.”

  This was it. This really was the mysterious man I’d been wondering about. The man who stopped the police officer at the fast food restaurant. The man who saved me on the train. The man who took those pictures. It was all Steven Edward. “Why did you take those photos?” I nodded at the camera. “Why all the secrecy?”

  “You have a purpose, Jonathan. Something you’re supposed to accomplish. My job, albeit an odd one, was just to steer you in the right direction, without controlling your destiny for you.”

  “Destiny,” I mumbled softly.

  He nodded.

  “That fight on the train. That was you?”

  “Yes, Jon.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “I was in danger plenty of other times, though. Why weren’t you there, then?”

  “‘For everything there is a season,’” he replied.

  “What?”

  “‘A time to be born and a time to die.’”

  “Steven…”

  “‘A time for war and a time for peace.’” He took another drink from his mug.

  I watched him, puzzled.

  Finally, he looked up at me. “I did everything I did at the right time, Jon. Trust me.”

  “Okay, then what about the ‘keep running’ note? Was that you too?”

  He went back to drinking his coffee, giving me just a slight nod.

  “But I didn’t ‘keep running,’” I said. “I came back.”

  “Yes,” he replied. “And how did that turn out?”

  An image flashed in front of my eyes. Alex’s body crunching underneath moving rubber. I blinked and lowered my head.

  “I knew I would eventually have to make myself fully known to you. The time came two days ago, when three bodies suddenly fell out of Luna headquarters.”

  “You saw it?”

  “I saw the explosion,” he replied.

  Explosion? I scratched my head.

  “I was in the area,” Steven leaned back into his chair a bit. It creaked.

  “Hunter’s glove,” I realized. It had been sent into sparks. Was the bang really that large?

  He raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me, Hunter’s glove?”

  I started. “Just… just a friend who turned his back on me.”

  “Doesn’t sound like much of a friend, th
en.”

  “Yeah, not anymore.” I sipped the coffee lightly.

  “It is my hope that none of your pursuers, whoever they were, have followed you here. But as you’ve noticed,” he winked, “I’m pretty good at disappearing.”

  “No one who would pursue me is even alive anymore.” I stared at the snowman on my cup. Its smile made my stomach squirm for some reason. “And Hunter left me to die. He doesn’t even know I’m alive.”

  He rotated his cup. “Then you’re in a good place, Jon.”

  “Right,” I said sarcastically. I couldn’t help it. Nothing had gone as I had planned. Whatever “destiny” he was talking about was not what I wanted at all.

  Steven silently sat there, letting me work through what he had told me.

  “You said I had a purpose.” My eyes met with his.

  He nodded slowly, a look of honest understanding in his eyes.

  “What purpose?”

  His lips smoothly formed into a smile. “How could I tell you that, Jon? I’m just a man.”

  “Well, so am I,” I exhaled.

  “Everyone has a purpose,” he declared. “Everyone.”

  “I’ve often felt differently,” I replied candidly.

  He tilted his head.

  “No one really seems to be pulling the strings here, Steven. In fact, in my recent experience,” I sighed, looking down, “it’s all been chaos.”

  “You’ve gone back in time with the watch, haven’t you?”

  I glanced at him. After a moment, I nodded my head.

  “Then you’ve seen it firsthand. The human experience… History itself occurs in a manner much less permeable than we thought.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He exhaled through his nostrils. “When you went back, did you really see ‘chaos?’ Or,” he weaved his fingers together, “did you see a perfectly repeated pattern?”

  I shook my head. “I was traveling into the past. It had already happened.”

  “But you were after something.” He pointed a finger my way. “I can see it in your eyes. You had a vision. Something that you could only do with that pocket watch, I bet.”

  We sat in silence for several moments.