Time Walker: Episode 2 of The Walker Saga

by Shannan Sinclair

  She lifted it off her chest and held it in her palm. It looked the same as it had days ago when she’d awoken from her time walk to Sigmund’s house in which she had watched him murder Astrid. The same five stones were black, and the same four gems were vivid with color: a deep blue sapphire, the clearest diamond, a rich purple amethyst, and the center gemstone that coruscated with colors that couldn’t be of this earth.

  The pendant hadn’t changed one bit even though she’d changed the timeline. That was reassuring. If it meant what she thought, if each black stone represented something she had lost, then her actions in Demesne hadn’t made her lose anyone else. Her mother was still alive, and she could still save her. And even though she had left him behind, Raziel was still alive. If she did this right, she could save her mother and find her way back to him.

  Aislen pulled a new map that she had bought in Brisbane out of the backpack. It had more detail of the region she was being guided to. Again, Aislen was in awe of how vast it was, about the same size as America without nearly as many people. The towns were few and far between and were tiny dots on the map compared to what she was used to seeing. She hovered the amulet over Alice Springs, feeling it hum as the correct destination, then slowly followed the main highway away from the airport, north, toward the city. The amulet sparked in her fingertips. No.

  She slowly circled the airport looking for the area that made the pendant sing again. As she headed south, it fell into resonance. She followed the highway south for a long way before it sang her west across another vast distance. It became obvious where it was leading: Uluru…Ayers Rock. It seemed too obvious. Really? Her father would go to a landmark everyone knew about? And that was where Sigmund would be?

  The amulet sang. Aislen reached into her pocket, pulled out her father’s drawing and compared it to the map. Although it wasn’t the most prominent part of the picture, it was indeed there, a bright crayon purple circle on the outskirts that matched the position of the amethyst stone on her pendant.

  It would be a long drive, five to six hours, but she still had time on her great-grandfather’s clock. Whether a week to him meant five days or seven, whether it was by the calendar or the watch, he would wait for her. He needed her. And he would be letting her mother go. There would be no negotiation.

  Aislen checked the watch on her wrist…Raziel’s watch. It purred just as constantly as the amulet, except the watch did reassure her. It was a steady reminder of him and all that she was capable of because of him. He had taught her so much. He’d taught her about control and how you needed it to survive. He’d taught her about love and how it was the driving force behind integrity and justice. And of course, he had taught her how to use her skills to her advantage. And she was going to need all of them, especially in the next few days.

  The plane’s engines dropped into a lower bass as it started its descent into the Red Centre of Australia. As soon as she disembarked, she was going to rent a four-wheel drive, buy provisions, steal a gun, find Sigmund Lange, and then blow his fucking brains out.

  The amulet seared her hand with scorching intensity.

  Oh! You think you have something to say about that? Well, fuck you!

  Aislen was beyond angry, beyond enraged. She had never felt such rabid violence in her heart, not even when she had taken on Raziel’s signature. Even he hadn’t contained the complete and utter hatred that Aislen felt. It consumed her.

  She had been used. She had been violated. She had been imprisoned. She had been denied choices–denied the life she wanted to live. And this was not Raziel’s fault. No, this was all on Sigmund Lange.

  Aislen despised him to the core for everything he was, for what he had created in her and for being a threat to all the people she loved.

  And she hated her father, as well, for helping to bring her into this deplorable reality. He’d awoken her. If it hadn’t been for his voice and the memories it had pulled up, The Stratum would have just been a bad dream. And the amulet? It hadn’t helped her. It hadn’t protected her. It only sang when it wanted to and only led her further and further down this road, a road that only led to destruction.

  Aislen ripped the pendant off her neck, breaking the chain. She shoved it into Raziel’s backpack.

  Fuck Fate. Fuck Destiny. She was going to take her life back. She would destroy Sigmund Lange and every part of his creation if it was the last thing she’d do.

  FIGHT SONG

  Unbreakable ~ Fireflight

  Forty-Two

  Aislen was surrounded by red dirt and green shrub in all directions. The broiling sun looked copper through the rusty haze. This place made The Stratum feel like Disneyland.

  The clerk at the rental car company very, very, very strongly advised Aislen not to leave right away.

  “You won’t be makin’ it to Uluru before dark, and you shouldn’t be drivin’ the roads at night. Roos, cattle, and camels be on them roads after dark. They’ll take on that roo bar in a heartbeat, and you’ll end up roadkill as sure as they do. Reckon you do yourself a favor an’ ’avago early in the mornin’. She’ll be right.”

  Aislen promised and smiled, took the keys and headed south on Stuart Highway. The stark emptiness struck immediately. No houses, no gas stations; a land void of all human existence. She drove for an hour without passing another car. The only kangaroos she saw were dead ones on the side of the road. The heat was unforgiving. The AM radio, terrible company. She finally made it to a roadhouse, where she filled up her tank and grabbed some food and water.

  The grizzled owner eyed her strangely. “Ya on a walkabout alone there, Yank?”

  Aislen felt defensive as he studied her, evaluating her fitness for the elements. It was a pretty harrowing experience, but after all that she’d been through, she knew she could manage. She didn’t need him butting into her business or thinking he could take advantage. She charged her space with Raziel’s darkest energy just for a moment and threw it his way.

  Back off, she warned.

  “Eh, ’ave it your way then,” he said with a shrug, getting the message.

  Still, he offered her a room and again warned her of the dangers of driving at night. She declined. It would be cooler driving now, and the sooner she got to her mother the better. She pulled the amulet out and checked her map with it. It had calmed down and seemed to be fine with her continuing south even as the sun started making its descent.

  Halfway to the next roadhouse, Aislen regretted her decision. As soon as the sun hit the horizon, a mob of roos appeared, hopping along the side of the road. They were by no means diminutive and cute. They were the size of a full grown human and as suicidal as the squirrels in California. They eyed Aislen’s car as if they were judging whether or not to play chicken. Aislen slowed down even more, terrified, not of dying after hitting one of these beasts but of surviving and being stranded in the hellacious desolation.

  And then, the sun set. And it wasn’t just dark. It was lightless. With no moon and no city light pollution illuminating the atmosphere, all she had to light her way were her pathetic headlights that fought a losing battle against the pitch.

  Thankfully, the next roadhouse was only a short distance away, and she pulled into the lot with a huge sigh of relief. Next time she’d listen to the locals.

  She managed to get a room, then went to the tavern to get something to eat and soak up the little bit of humanity that was found in these parts. She also needed to find a gun. She’d be a fool not to take protection with her. She wouldn’t be getting her mother away from Sigmund and Troy without some firepower. A bar in the Outback was sure to have something.

  Not wanting any more scrutiny from the locals or other travelers, Aislen read the vibe of the room before entering. It was a stale mixture of the Old West and dystopia, tin roof and wood paneling. Aislen charged her space with it so she could blend in without anyone noticing an attractive young woman traveling alone.

  She found a corner table and observed the tavern for a while. There were
more people than she expected, travelers from the campground and a few locals. This was probably the only place for another hundred miles. She scanned the walls, looking for a gun rack. In the boondocks of ’Murica, there would be one hanging in full view behind the bar. But not here. It wasn’t going to be that easy.

  Aislen remembered how Raziel helped her find her passport at her house, how she’d tuned into it and it had shown her where it was.

  She thought about what type of gun she could use. Even though a handgun would be easiest, it was probably useless out here and rare. A shotgun would be more cumbersome but probably something a local would have. She contemplated a shotgun, what it might look like, how it would feel in her hands, the sound of it racking, and then let the image of it go. She followed its signature while she scanned the energy fields of the patrons in the room. Two people stood out immediately, matching the energy of the shotgun: a burly man drinking VB’s at the bar and an older woman with silver hair tied back in a long pony tail.

  She tuned into the woman and saw a shotgun by her bed, already loaded. She traced the woman’s frequency to see if she could find where she lived. Her mind pulled up an image of a homestead down the road five miles. Aislen could overtake the woman if there were a confrontation, but she seemed to need the shotgun more, and ten miles there and back in the dark could be a death sentence.

  She tuned into the man and saw the weapon in a cabinet by a door. She tracked his energy and saw that he lived nearby, on the outpost property. There were several cans lined up on the bar in front of him. If he interrupted her burglarizing his house, he might be oblivious to her presence. He seemed like less of a risk to Aislen. She snagged his frequency and slipped out the back. If she did it now, she could get back before he got home.

  Using his energy as a compass, Aislen tuned into the outpost. A strong magnetic pull tugged her toward the far west side of the property. She ran that direction, letting his energy guide her down the dirt path half a mile until she reached what felt like his place. She stopped and scanned the small modular trailer. There were no lights on, but just in case, she raised her left hand to the house like she’d watched Raziel do and felt for any other signatures inside, like a wife he’d left at home or a child in bed. It felt empty inside, but she did feel something on the outside, sitting on the porch.

  It felt her too and jumped up. She could hear it huffing and puffing before she could actually see it, a snorting pit bull bounding toward her, unchained. Aislen cloaked herself in the man’s frequency, and the dog stopped. His ears perked up, and he slowed to a lope, tail wagging. When he got next to her, he stopped again and cocked his head to the side. She didn’t look or smell like his master. Aislen increased the intensity of the man’s signature, and the dog fell into heel beside her, following her to the back door.

  Tentatively, she tried the door handle. It was unlocked. Of course! Who needed to lock their doors out here? She slipped in the back of the house and found the tall, narrow cabinet right where she’d seen it in her mind.

  She didn’t have time to be amazed at herself. She opened the cabinet, grabbed the shotgun, put a handful of ammo in her pocket and left the way she came. The dog followed her happily as she raced back toward the roadhouse. She stopped.

  Stay! she said, pointing back toward the house. The dog dropped his head, tucked tail and walked back to his place on the porch, disappointed they weren’t going for a run.

  Aislen continued running as fast as she could back to her room. She put the shotgun and ammo on the bed, heart racing with adrenaline and disbelief. She couldn’t believe what she had done. She’d just broken into a man’s house and stolen his gun! She couldn’t believe she was even here, in this wild, still-untamed country. Or that she was capable of doing any of the things that she was doing.

  Who had she become? She didn’t like it. Her moral compass felt off. But her mother was that important.

  Tomorrow was the day. Aislen had tried not to think about it that much, had shut it out so the fear of it wouldn’t cloud her abilities. She could think about it in the morning when she was closer to the rendezvous point. Then she would stop, tune into her mother, and follow her signal line to where Sigmund and Troy had her. She would find her mother and kill Sigmund Lange. This was it.

  Aislen stepped back out of the room to catch her breath and looked up into the night sky. Her heart caught in her chest. From horizon to horizon, the sky was saturated with scintillating pinpricks of light. A thick swath of them poured like a river across the darkness: the Milky Way. It was something she had only seen in photographs. Here, above her like this, it was astonishing and overwhelming.

  She wandered into a small clearing and stretched herself out on the ground, letting the field of light drape around her. It was just like her dream, the constellations imperceptibly marking time, ticking around her like a clock. Nothing would stop its steady grind.

  Aislen allowed herself to think of another thing she had blocked out, out of necessity. Raziel. He was out there, under this vaulted heaven. She allowed herself to remember the energy of him for a moment: the memory of his touch on her skin, how the frequency of him had entwined and become one with hers. She could feel the power of that connection infuse her soul. She could feel the love she carried for him burning in the core of her.

  She understood him now–how and why he became who he was. Aislen was becoming who she was to save and protect the ones she loved: her mother and Raziel. He had become who he was because somewhere, a long time ago, he had to protect himself. Maybe it got out of control. Maybe it was too intoxicating, this power. But he had overcome it and had utilized it for good, to help her become who she was today.

  He was probably angry with her right now for leaving him behind. But as much as she needed him and wanted him, she would never forgive herself if he died because of her.

  She allowed her gaze to wander across the firmament. A billion stars, each a different celestial soul. What were the odds that she and Raziel would have ever found each other naturally? None. It took all this. It took this nightmare to bring them together.

  Far off, a million light years away, Aislen found one particular star. It shone different from all the others, flashing a multitude of colors like the center stone in her pendant. She pulled her focus away from the varicolored orb and saw the amulet pattern appear in the sky as clearly as if she were holding it in her hand.

  It was their very own constellation: Fate and Destiny.

  Aislen closed her eyes, vowing that tomorrow she would end it. It would be finished, and she would find her way back that guiding, center light, and back to Raziel.

  Forty-Three

  He smelled like bacon. That’s the first thing he thought as he started waking up.

  Jesus Christ how many days had it been since he’d showered? Two? Three? And running around Sabine’s house chasing The Phantom didn’t do his body odor any favors. He really needed to get it under control pronto—he had things to take care of today, like filing a missing person’s report and putting out an APB. But God damn his bed felt awesome; his own sheets, the shallow sag that fit his body just right. He hadn’t had this good a night’s sleep in years!

  Mathis got another whiff of pork. It was too much; he needed to part ways with the bed and hit the shower. He reluctantly rolled over and carefully sat up, expecting his body to protest. He’d just had a major heart incident and had acted like a vigilante during the night. His body was sure to complain. But no, he felt fine. In fact, he felt really, really good. Better than ever!

  But why was he naked?

  He never slept naked.

  He looked down on the floor for the hospital gown, finding a pair of jeans, his favorite karaoke shirt, and his tightie-whities instead. Mathis squinted his eyes at the other shape lying next to the clothes he didn’t wear yesterday.

  A black bra.

  Mathis didn’t wear black bras.

  His brain felt like it was short circuiting. He looked around to make sure
he was in his own room, in his own house, and hadn’t stumbled into a stranger’s house by accident in the night.

  No…that was his chair, there was his dresser, that was his hallway.

  He heard a faint sizzling sound and smelled eggs. It was coming from down the hall and not his butt.

  Someone was in his house!

  Mathis slipped on his jeans, going commando. Uncomfortable, but appropriate when confronting an intruder. He tiptoed down the hall in stealth mode toward the kitchen, where he could hear the tinkling and clanking of metal and the soft humming of a woman’s voice. He peeked around the corner.

  There was a woman in his kitchen, standing over a frying pan, flipping eggs. Long, auburn hair cascaded down her back. She was wearing his t-shirt…and no panties! The bottom of her perfect ass barely peeked out from under the hem of his oversized shirt. He’d recognize that ass anywhere.

  She turned around and spotted him staring at her from around the corner with his mouth gaping wide in shock and awe. She smiled.

  “Good morning, Robert. I made breakfast…just how you like it,” Sabine said.

  Mathis realized; he had died. And this was heaven.

  NEW MEASURE / TIME SHIFT

  Love Is Alive ~ Gary Wright

  CRESCENDO

  The Killing Moon ~ Roman Remains

  Forty-Four

  The red rock rose out of the desert in front of her as the sun’s early rays blazed over her shoulder. At first just a small button on the flat landscape, it swelled into a colossal wonder as she drew closer on her trek west. In the first light, the silhouettes and colors that played across it were magical. Aislen could not deny the resonant pull of it; she could feel it in her bones. It was like a heartbeat, a pulse that throbbed persistently across the landscape, beckoning her closer. It felt like the whole of Earth’s frequency originated here and radiated out. The closer she got, the stronger it pulled.