Echoes of Tomorrow Season One: Episode One (Echoes of Tomorrow: Season One Book 1) (3 page)

"And your wallet."

Tyler's hand went back to his back pocket and found it empty. A knot formed in his stomach. "There was another guy with me."

"The guy with the broken jaw?"

The scene flashed in his mind. He barely remembered the brick that caught Mark on the jaw just before something got him. "Have you seen him?"

"Yeah." The kid exhaled sharply, turned around, and walked away.

Tyler bolted up, pain flooding through his head threatened to send him to the ground as vertigo set in. He'd gotten a concussion or two while supervising job sites and knew he had a big one. "Where is he?"

"He's gone, man," the kid said, looking over his shoulder as he walked. "They took him out."

Tyler took a couple steps before the pain doubled him over. Bile threatened to burst from his throat as the dizziness increased ten-fold. He was in bad shape and needed to get to the hospital himself, but had to know. He wanted to see it with his own eyes.

"Where is he?"

"Fine man. Your funeral. His body is in the second dumpster. You won't like what you see if you look. They did a number to him."

The beginnings of a tear formed on the corner of his eye as the reality set in. Mark had died when they stole the truck and for nothing. He probably fought for it, trying to keep it from them not realizing it was a rental and well insured. Even if it wasn't, there wasn't an object in the world losing your life over. A truck is just a truck. There were millions created before this one, and thousands more since. Money and items can always be replaced, but your life never can.

Tyler wanted to stop the kid, to learn more about the guys who stole his truck, but he disappeared long before the dizziness faded and he could stand on his feet without the aid of a nearby tree. He had more important things to take care of than to track down the thugs who'd stolen his truck and killed the man he was trying to help. First, he needed to call the police and file a report on the truck, not to mention let them know about the murder. He decided, perhaps it was best if he left the body alone for now and let the police handle it. The last thing he needed was to get his fingerprints all over the dumpster and protective gate.

Instinctively, he reached into his pocket to pull out his phone, but found it was also missing. Without his phone, or his truck, he needed to find a way to call the cops. He looked around, noticing the mess of wrecked cars he'd driven around earlier as a reminder they might be busy. But even seeing that, he knew he had to try.

He took his time walking across the street, stopping every ten feet to rest while another round of vertigo took its toll. The trek across three lanes of traffic and a few parking stalls took him fifteen minutes, but he knew it was worth it as he made his way to the front door of the CVS.

Lights were on in the building which was a good sign. That meant there was someone inside manning the store. Without his wallet he wouldn't be able to pick up aspirin for his head, but he could at least have them call the cops.

With the aid of the brick wall of the building, it only took him five minutes to make it to the front door. He stepped up to the glass double doors, expecting them to open as he triggered the motion sensor, but the door didn't budge. Tyler took a few steps back and back up, thinking maybe he'd come at a bad angle, but it didn't help. The door remained as closed as it was the first time he tried.

He leaned into the window, cupping his hands together to help him get a peek inside. Fluorescent lighting illuminated the pharmacy and everything inside. He scanned left and right, noticing items on the shelves with the pricing and signage still in place. The white tile floor glistened in the light as if had been waxed the night before. Nothing inside the store seemed out of place except that nobody was around.

Gone was the cashier who should've been manning the front register, the workers who should've been cleaning and stocking the shelves, and even the manager who should've been inside making sure it all got done.

Tyler figured maybe someone had forgotten to unlock the door this morning, or he was here too early. Without his phone, he didn't know what time it was, but knew it had to be close.

After looking around one last time, he banged his fist on the window. "Hello?" He screamed into the seam between the double doors.

He scanned the inside again, hoping he'd drawn the attention of someone inside with his knocking, but nobody was around.

Tyler tried again, bashing the bottom part of his hand against the glass as hard as the pain would allow. But if anyone inside heard the racket he was making, they didn't show a sign.

Tyler was getting frustrated. He needed to get the cops out here sooner than later, but was running out of options. The longer he waited to call the cops, the further the thugs got with his truck and the longer Mark rotted in the dumpster.

He looked around the intersection again. The crowd that gathered just a while ago had dispersed, leaving the mangled mess of metal, rubber, and glass unattended in the middle of the road. He scanned the rest of his field of view, seeing if anyone else was around.

For now the coast was clear, but he wasn't sure how long it would stay that way. The pharmacy had everything he needed, both to take care of his cut and a phone to call the cops. But if nobody was answering his knocks, he didn't know what to do.

He leaned back against the brick wall and eased himself off his feet while he considered his options.

The first option he had was to wait here for a while, hoping someone eventually opened the door to let him in. Without a clock to know the time, he might sit there for an hour or two before that happened.

For the second option he could look around for something to break the glass windows of the pharmacy to get inside. One of the wrecked cars in the middle of the road would surely have a crowbar or tire tool he could use. Maybe he'd find one big enough to just pry open the door. He decided he'd save the option as a last resort, since it would take the call out of the equation. Sure, he could still call the cops, but they'd just arrest him for breaking and entering and ignore his claims.

The final option was to make the grueling trip across the street to the gas station. If he could guarantee someone would be inside, he would've done it without a second thought, but as he sat there watching the front door, he had no way of knowing if anyone was inside unless someone pulled into the station and tried to get in.

He leaned against the wall and closed his eyes while his brain mulled it over. Blood pulsed in his swollen temple, sending waves of pain through his head. The day had started on the wrong foot and kept going down the same path. He wished he could travel back in time and start all over again, staying in bed another half hour so he could avoid this mess.

"Shit," he said, his eyes bolted open as he remembered his appointment with the city building inspector. He was supposed to meet him at nine o'clock for the final walk through. If he wasn't there, he'd have to reschedule which would put him back another day or two. Time he already wasn't willing to spend in Alabama, especially now.

To his side he heard the mechanical grinding of the double doors sliding open. Tyler turned his head and noticed the woman from earlier, her hair now pulled back in a ponytail and a pair of glasses on her nose.

"Oh my God, what happened to you?" she asked when she noticed him leaning against the wall.

"I need a phone."

"You need a doctor." She offered him a hand and helped him to his feet. Once there, he stood with his back against the wall while his body adjusted to his new position.

"Someone stole my truck, wallet," he reached into his pockets and pulled them out, showing they were empty, "everything."

"Come inside, let's get that covered."

She stepped to his side and stood up, putting his armpit on her shoulder to give him some support. Inside the door, she led him to an empty wheelchair that sat not far from the row of carts.

"Sit," she said as she turned him around and helped him into the chair.

He felt embarrassed, finding himself sitting in a wheelchair for something as simple as a knot on his head.
Surely someone else needs it more than me.
He didn't argue with her about it though, figuring there wasn't anyone around now that might.

Once he was secure, she pushed him to the back of the store to the isle with medical supplies. She pulled a box of gauze pads, wrap, and a tube of antibiotic ointment and placed them on his lap.

"I," he hesitated. "I can't pay for this."

"It's on the house. Good thing about being the manager. I can write stuff off for emergencies." She pulled a bottle of rubbing alcohol off the shelf and poured some on one of the gauze pads then rubbed it on the knot, smiling as he let out a slight groan of pain. "And I believe this is an emergency."

"Thanks." He opened another gauze pad and handed it to her and put the soiled one she handed him into the empty wrapper.

"I'd say anytime, but you might make it a habit."

Tyler grinned and flashed his left hand, emphasizing the ring finger on his hand.

"Figures. The cute ones are always taken." She finished bandaging his forehead and handed him a bottle of Excedrin to help with his headache.

"Sorry." He popped two of the pills into his hand and dry swallowed them.

"Oh, it's fine. I have a habit of speaking before I think." She flashed him a toothy grin. "Fatal flaw."

Tyler laughed. "Guess it could be worse."

"Stay here for a moment, I'll throw this stuff away and get you something to drink." The woman walked away, leaving him alone in the medicine aisle. While he was glad his head was taken care of, at least from a first-aid standpoint, he felt bad for putting her in a spot. Manager or not, once someone above her learned what she did, someone would have to pay for it. He hoped it wouldn't cost her job.

Moments later, Tyler's head jerked to the front of the store when he heard the scream.

Chapter Four

Hearing the woman scream, Tyler stood up to get to the front of the store as fast as possible, but as soon as he was on his feet, vertigo set in, doubling him over instantly. His head may be bandaged and wrapped, but no amount of gauze would keep the dizziness at bay for long.

He sat back down in the wheelchair and let the sensation settle for a second before wheeling his way to the front.

At the front of the store, a shelf crashed to the ground, sending its contents sprawling over the tile floor. Tyler got to the middle aisles and pulled behind one of the end caps to give him cover. He wanted to get up front to help, but rushing in without looking was asking for trouble. There was no way to know what he would deal with once he got there unless he took a moment to look. If his head were in better shape he would've moved in closer, but with the difficulty he was having trying to walk he thought it better to stay back.

"Give me the money, bitch," he heard a deep voice say from the front of the store. "All of it."

"OK. OK. Give me a minute. Don't shoot." She spit out the words between frantic breaths. From the sound of her voice Tyler could tell she had never been in a situation like this before, nor did she show any signs of training. He would've figured a company like this would've spent the time to make sure their employees stayed calm in a situation like this, if only to keep the other side calm.

"Do it now!" A gunshot rang out. The loud pop echoed through the store, causing some less stable items on the shelf to wobble as Tyler leaned into it for cover.

The woman let out a high-pitched squeal followed by frantic pleas for her life. "Here you go," she forced between sobs. "Get out of here."

The deep voice laughed. "I'm not done with you, honey. I want what's in the back too."

"I," she stuttered. "I don't have access to the safe. Only the store manager does."

"I don't want the safe, bitch. Take me to the back and get me the drugs."

"The back is locked until the pharmacist gets here. They are the only ones with keys."

"Here's what's going to happen. You are going to take me back to the pharmacy and open the door." Tyler peeked his head around the corner in time to see him pull the woman's name tag off her shirt. "I'd hate to blow your brains across the store now, Marcy. You've been so good so far."

Tyler balled his fists when he saw the man move behind her while holding the gun to her head. Her body, especially her head, shook up a storm as she walked towards the back.

Tyler moved the wheelchair back as the pair entered the aisle he'd been watching. For a moment, he considered wheeling back more and heading out the front door to escape. But something inside him wouldn't leave her alone, not for a moment longer than he'd already done by staying back for this long. If this was one of the punks that ambushed him out back, he might not stop with the money and the drugs. He might decide he wanted something else of hers; something no woman should be forced to give. Or, perhaps, he would do something much worse.

Tyler set the wheelchair brake and poised himself on the edge of the seat. He might not be able to stand up worth a darn, but he thought he should be able to do one good lunge to bring the man to the floor. It was his only option if he planned on saving her.

He waited patiently as the footsteps got closer. He saw her familiar white sneakers first, followed by the rest of her body. She glanced over, eyes widening as she noticed Tyler hiding around the corner. She covered her mouth and took another couple steps with the gun still pressed to her head.

Then Tyler saw his target. The man was tall, easily as tall as Tyler if not more, though he weighed probably one and a half times as much. He was built like a truck as if he'd spent his non-robbing hours hitting the gym to flesh out his bulk. For a moment, Tyler regretted his decision to stay and help, but it was too late to back out now. As far as he knew, the man would turn the gun on him and blow his head off the second he rounded the corner.