Flux

by Jeremy Robinson

  The mountain blurs, its color shifting from dark gray and white to vibrant green.

  This is bigger, I think. This is going to hurt…

  “Everyone get down!” I shout, before diving to the floor.

  A moment later, a tidal wave of time and space slams into Black Creek, and through my body.

  Despite being relatively accustomed to the aftereffects, there’s nothing I can do to prevent myself from being thrown across the floor. Like the occupants of a cruise ship in a storm, we’re tossed to the back side of the room and compressed against the wall with a collection of furniture. It hurts, but I’m grateful for the wall, and for not being atop Synergy, where the flux moves vertically.

  My stomach sours, but doesn’t convulse. Everyone else seems equally accustomed to the physical effects, struggling to recover, but not lost in agony or confusion.

  A low, moaning honk sounds from outside.

  The hell is that? I wonder, and I push myself up and out of my discomfort. I stagger back to the window, where I’m joined by Cassie. Our approach slows when we see the landscape. Aside from Adel, the mountains… The mountains are gone. And the forest…it’s vast and lush. Tropical, by the looks of it.

  The honk sounds out again, drawing my eyes down to Main Street, which is now layered in two-foot-tall grass and contains a very confused animal.

  Cassie takes my hand, squeezing tightly. “Is that…?”

  “Yeah,” I say. “It’s a dinosaur.”

  42

  “That’s a…a... Ahh…shit.” Levi rubs his head, looking down at the armored behemoth. It’s a good eighteen feet long, weighs several tons, and is covered in plates that look like a cross between an armadillo and a snapping turtle. It is simultaneously frightening and adorable. Large spikes protrude from its shoulders, making any bite directed toward its neck a dangerous prospect. The creature’s yellow-orange color is flecked with brown, and it blends in with the grass. But it isn’t perfect camouflage when seen from above. From a distance, the low lying dinosaur might be invisible.

  I’m somewhat staggered by the animal. I’ve already witnessed the reverse passage of time, machines from the future, a saber-toothed cat, a herd of mammoths, and an inhuman monstrosity. But I’m still not immune to the fact, and abject wonder, that I’m looking at a living, breathing dinosaur. Despite knowing it’s real, my brain struggles to adapt. I keep seeing it as an animatronic creature, brought to life by motors. But then it moves in a way no robot could imitate, and the spell is broken. For a moment, I forget our dire situation, and I just smile.

  “A nodosaur!” Levi thrusts a victorious finger in the air. “That puts us sometime in the Cretaceous, when Appalachia was its own continent.”

  Everyone in the now-hot room cranes their heads toward the young man.

  “What?” He looks offended by our surprise. “Just because I play football doesn’t mean I don’t know things. Mr. Jenkins, my biology teacher, was a dinosaur nut. I haven’t seen him in town yet, but if he’s here, he’ll tell you. Dinosaurs in this part of the country weren’t a big deal until recently. He’d get excited every time some new discovery was made. And I remember this guy…” He points down at the nodosaur, slowly backing away from the court house, its eyes craned up toward the windows full of watching eyes. “…because they found a mummified one, no assembly required.”

  “So, the Cretaceous,” Kuzneski says, frowning down at the dinosaur. “How far back in time does that put us?”

  Levi ponders the question for a moment. “Somewhere between a hundred and forty-six to sixty-six million years. I think.”

  “Well, call me Chaka and fetch me some stone soup.” Kuzneski looks at me. “We’re going to spend the rest of our lives playing Land of the Lost?”

  “If we’re lucky,” is my sour response. Honestly, dinosaurs or not, I’ll take the Cretaceous over the Ice Age. The weather is warm and the food sources plentiful. Dinosaurs might be big and scary, but we’ve got a whole town to feed and enough guns to get the job done.

  “At least we can lose the jackets,” Kuzneski says, shedding his. “I suppose perpetual shorts weather won’t be too bad.”

  “Might want to rethink that,” Flores says, pointing to the window, where what looks like a mosquito the size of my fist is bouncing against the glass.

  “And this is why I’m still not going,” Kuzneski says. “Have fun storming the castle, and all that.”

  “Any transportation in town?” I’m hoping for something fast. Agile enough to manage the rough forest floor, like a couple of ATVs. But what I’m offered is even better.

  “Bunch a horses,” Hardy says. “I’ll fetch ’em for ya soon as that Norman—”

  “Nodosaur,” Levi says,

  “I done named him Norman, after my father-in-law, who was just about as ugly, fat, and in the way as that creature.”

  “I think he’s kind of cute,” Young Cassie says, standing by a bewildered and quite pleased Owen.

  “Cute, but dangerous,” my Cassie says, already protective of her younger self.

  “He ain’t so bad,” Levi says, heading for the door. “Nodosaurs are herbivores. Like cows. He’ll bolt at the first sign of trouble.”

  I listen to Levi’s footsteps clomping down the stairs. He exits the door below us, shouting, “Hey! Get out of here.” He walks into view, waving his arms at the dinosaur. I raise my handgun and aim it at the creature’s head.

  “Hey,” Owen says, disapproving.

  “Just in case it attacks,” I tell him, but he glares at me until I lower my aim, not because he’s won the battle between selves, but because it will appease him, and I’m a quick draw.

  I tense when Levi charges out of the building, roaring and bearing his teeth. The nodosaur tenses, letting out another honk. Its armored tail swishes back and forth, mowing down the tall grass. There are a thousand ways this could go wrong, and most of them end with Levi dead, or Owen angry at me for killing the dinosaur. If I can. Those armor plates look pretty tough.

  The nodosaur stomps a foot, dragging it through the rich earth.

  Levi freezes in place, no doubt sensing what I am—he’s about to be run over by three tons of armored dinosaur.

  “Owen,” Cassie says, her voice worried.

  I start to raise my handgun again, but I don’t need to finish. With a barking honk directed at the sky, the nodosaur suddenly stands about a foot taller, spins around, and gallops out of town. It wasn’t as stocky or slow as it seemed, but as Levi hoped, it was a two-ton chicken. Though I’m sure the town’s sudden appearance had already spooked it something fierce.

  “See?” Levi says from below, his voice muffled by the glass. “No prob—”

  A roar, not too close, but not nearly as far away as I’d like, cuts him short. It’s powerful enough to shake the glass and rattle my nerves.

  “That wasn’t Tsul’Kalu,” Inola says.

  I shake my head. “There are worse things than Tsul’Kalu in this time.” The words feel sour in my mouth. An accidental lie. Dinosaurs, like all Earth’s creatures, are animals. They’ve been extinct for millions of years, and many of them could swallow us whole, but they kill to eat, not for the malicious pleasure of it. And from what I saw, the god of the hunt wouldn’t have too much trouble handling the nodosaur.

  I turn to Hardy. “The horses?”

  With a nod, he hurries out of the room.

  I approach my father, who’s still standing with Mrs. Dearborn. “Stay here. It’s the most secure building in town. Try to keep everyone away from the windows and out of sight. Quiet, too. And put the fires out. The more Black Creek looks like a ghost town, the less attention it will receive from anything, and anyone.”

  “I’m not in charge of these people,” my father says. “What makes you think—”

  “Most people in town respect the McCoy name,” Levi points out, stepping closer to us. “And I’ll tell ’em to listen to you.”

  “You don’t even know me,” my father says.
/>
  “Didn’t know me, neither,” Levi says. “But you know what’s going on, and if Owen thinks you’re the man for the job, then you are.”

  “I know I’m probably on your shit list right now,” Kuzneski says. “But I’ll watch over your family while you’re gone.”

  “Aren’t many people who could watch themselves die and not be affected,” I say.

  “What’s that say about you?” he asks.

  “Nothing good, I suppose.”

  He flashes a grin. “Means you’re a fuckin’ badass.”

  “That was fast,” Cassie says, looking out the window. I’m about to ask what she’s talking about when I hear a horse whinny.

  “I’ll go fetch some guns,” Levi says, heading out the door.

  Everything is coming together quickly, which is good. The sun is a bit higher in the sky now, on account of it being summer again or perhaps late spring—the seasonal indicators might be different in this time. Either way, we still have only hours before dark. Maybe less time before we flux even further back in time. I’m afraid to see just how far back we go. There will come a point when we won’t be able to survive.

  Kuzneski is right. We’re going to play out our very own Land of the Lost, and since I fully intend on living my life, and making sure everyone in town does as well, the human race is going to get kick-started a few million years earlier.

  “Head on down,” I say to Inola and Flores. “I’ll be right behind you.”

  While they head out, I crouch beside Owen and Young Cassie. “I want you to look after her,” I tell my younger self. “And no matter what happens, you don’t lose sight of what’s important.”

  “What if it’s him who needs protecting?” Young Cassie asks with a one-sided grin.

  “Good question,” Cassie says. She’s standing behind me, hands on her hips, wearing the same one-sided smile.

  “You’ll be there for each other, for the rest of your lives, no matter what,” I declare.

  Owen and Young Cassie both blush. Mission accomplished, I tussle my own hair exactly how I hate it, and stand up.

  “We’ll be back soon,” I tell my father. “Ish. Maybe tomorrow. If you run into trouble you can’t handle, or if anything…weird...happens, just get everyone underground.”

  When he nods, I give him a hug that I hope won’t be our last. Then I head for the door.

  As we head down the stairs, Cassie nudges me with her elbow. “For the rest of our lives? What makes you think I’m okay with that?”

  I shrug. “Pretty slim pickins in town.”

  “Flores is handsome.”

  “Pretty sure Flores knows better than to mess with me.”

  She smiles and takes my hand, holding it until we reach the front door, where five horses are waiting.

  “Been a long time since I rode,” Cassie says.

  “Like riding a bike,” I say.

  “Been a long time since I did that, too, and bikes don’t buck when they get scared.”

  She’s right about that. “A horse is only as skittish as her rider.”

  She lets go of my hand and gives me a shove. “Now you’re just making shit up.”

  Inola mounts her steed, making it look easy.

  “Just do what she does,” I say.

  With two quick jabs from Inola’s heels and a “Tick, tick,” from her mouth, the horse sprints off. She directs it in a tight circle, before yanking it to a halt. “Good,” she declares at the end of her brief ride.

  Flores mounts one of the horses, with a lot less flair than Inola, but still makes it look easy. And when Cassie tries, she finds that it is. Levi arrives before I climb atop my horse. He’s got several weapons slung over his shoulder, including two semi-automatic rifles with now illegal bump stocks. I’m not a big fan of everyday people carrying weapons like these, but I’m sure glad to have them now. He hands one to me, and the other to Flores. Cassie gets a pump-action shotgun. Levi keeps a shotgun for himself. He offers a third to Inola, but she shakes her head and pats my father’s Winchester already holstered on the horse’s side. Seems she’s adopted the family weapon, along with my father. Which is fine by me. Not just because I want my father to be happy while in the Cretaceous, but also because the weapon packs a punch.

  Levi and I climb on our horses and turn south. Where there used to be tall hills blocking the view, there are now flat fields and forest, revealing a tall mound beyond, which would have been hidden in my time, and which now glistens in the late day sun as an array of solar panels gathering energy.

  “Wherever there’s injustice,” Kuzneski says from the courthouse door.

  We watched The Three Amigos just a few weeks ago, while pulling a night shift. It was a breach of protocol, but back then I didn’t see the harm.

  “Wherever there is suffering,” he adds. “C’mon, do the salute.” Behind him, inside the courthouse, I can see Young Cassie and Owen already doing the Three Amigos salute. But there’s no way in hell I’m doing it. Instead, I raise a hand and say, “Let’s ride.”

  With a nudge, my horse sets out, and the rest follow. With every hoof thump, my smile fades. I’m leaving Black Creek behind me, and I can’t help but think it will be for the last time. Doesn’t matter, I decide, pushing the horse faster. If this doesn’t end, here and now, everyone in town, including the people I hold dearest in the world, will likely die.

  So I ride hard toward the distant power station, racing the sun as it plunges toward the horizon.

  43

  “There it is.” Flores is crouched beside a tree, doing an admirable job of ignoring the fact that everything here is totally new. Aside from the breathable air, it’s like being on another planet. Other than artists’ renderings, no human being in the history of time has ever seen any of this.

  Following Flores’s pointed finger, I see the solar array. It’s vast, covering the slope of a pint-sized mountain that’s been preserved by the particle collider’s effect. I try to picture it all in my mind. The giant ring stretching from below Adel and reaching all the way here on the far side of town. The network of tunnels below the town, directing power and control, all of it creating a kind of bubble around Black Creek. The bubble sustains most of what’s inside the area, carrying it all through time. But the bubble has holes, or at least weak spots, I think, which would account for the disappearance of my truck. The effect on that empty stretch of mountain was enough to carry us back in time, but not quite enough for the vehicle. That’s my theory, anyway.

  At the base of the mountain is a sturdy looking brick building. It’s a boxy, non-descript structure bearing no signage and no warnings. No ‘Keep Out’ signs either, but I think that’s implied by the tall fence covered in razor wire.

  “Where are the guards?” Cassie asks.

  It’s a good question. I don’t see any sentries, human or drone. The only thing I can hear is a mass of bird calls, some of them recognizable, the munching of our loosely tied horses enjoying a snack of lush foliage, and the gentle whir of a thousand solar panels slowly rotating to track the sun. Reflected light fills the air with an orange glow that’s growing duller by the minute.

  A bird chirps to our right, so close it must be on the ground. I start to question the bird’s proximity and realize I’m once again mistaking Inola’s bird call for the real thing. I whistle a reply, acknowledging that I’ve heard her, and then I motion for the others to follow.

  We creep through the tall trees that are weighed down by leaves the size of men. The canopy is thick and all but blocks out the sun, transporting us from sunset to twilight in just a few steps. The air is fragrant with decay and blooming life. Flowers all around slowly close for the night. Bees the size of my hand buzz away, gathering at hives that must be a nightmare to stumble across.

  We find Inola crouching inside a stand of ferns, only visible because she’s waving me over. Gathered in the greenery, I have no trouble spotting why the facility is quiet. A large portion of the fence has been torn out of the ground
and dragged inside. Several of the solar panels at the bottom of the hill have been destroyed. The remains of several men decorate the walls and the concrete foundation upon which the facility rests.

  “Tsul’Kalu,” Inola whispers.

  “Doesn’t change anything,” I say. “And if he’s gone, he’s made our job easier.”

  Inola doesn’t react. Her gaze is unflinching.

  “Thoughts?” I ask Flores.

  “Find the front door, kick it in, try to find a way to shut it down, and if we can’t, we shoot the shit out of anything that looks important.”

  “That’s about as complicated a plan as the Army ever comes up with,” I tease, “but it’ll work.” To the group. “Stay low. Stay quiet. Do not fire unless we’re in imminent danger.”

  When I get nods all around, I take point with Cassie at my back, followed by Levi, Inola, and Flores at the rear, watching our six. How many times did I depend on him like this in the future? How many missions did we run together before our last? How many more will there be in the future?

  Just this one, I hope.

  In a world with one town of people, there won’t be much need for a military strike force, unless the dinosaurs rise up against us…

  I crouch-walk out of the thick forest, bathed in orange sunlight. If the Appalachian mountains still existed, we’d already be cast in shadow. With them missing, we have about thirty minutes of direct light remaining, and another thirty after that, before the sky goes dark.

  Sweeping my rifle back and forth, I step onto the concrete. I slow when I reach the flattened fencing. The razor wire is coated in blood and little bits of what looks like white flesh. I crouch over the gore and when the others gather around me, I say, “It wasn’t Tsul’Kalu who tore down this fence.”

  “How can you tell?” Levi asks. He’s been filled in on the monster’s existence, but a lot of details have been left out.