Out of Time (37 page)

He looked out at the vast nothingness of a black sea at night. Random pieces of flotsam and jetsam bobbed the surface, only to disappear again. Brown, grey and green. Green. His head snapped around as the flash of color caught his eye. Not more than twenty yards away, a pale green shape floated in the water.

Elizabeth.

He ran toward her, his heart sinking with each step. She lay face down in the water, a broken plank of wood caught under her chest. Her hair streamed out like an angel’s halo in the dark water.

His hands shook as he reached out and took her by the shoulders. He knew what he’d find. He’d seen it in his nightmares. Carefully, he turned her over. A gash sliced across her forehead, spilling blood down the side of her face.

“No,” he rasped, as he pulled her body to his.

He stood in the water holding her. The rain had stopped, but his tears fell.

Her head lolled back and he lifted it up, cradling her limp body so very carefully. His fingers trembled as he stroked her cheek.

“No.”

The waves buffeted against him as he carried her through the shallow water to the shore. Laying her down on the sand, he tilted her head back and leaned down until his cheek hovered over her mouth.

No breath.

His heart pounded in his chest as he blew two quick breaths into her lifeless body. He would bring her back. He’d shove his very soul into her if he could.

Still nothing. Her neck was ice cold, and he couldn’t feel a pulse. He laced his fingers over her chest and thrust down.

“Come back,” he said. “Damn it, you come back to me!”

More compressions and still her chest didn’t rise. He could feel her slipping away from him, but he’d be damned if he’d let her go.

He started another set of compressions, but then…he wasn’t sure, but he thought her eyes fluttered. He stopped and his heart skipped a beat. He cupped her cheek, willing life into her. “Elizabeth!”

She coughed and water spilled out of her mouth. She gagged again and then gasped for breath. Simon thought his heart might explode with relief, and with trembling hands he eased her head to the side. Finally, her eyes opened.

“I knew you’d find me.”

“Oh, love,” Simon gasped and gathered her into his arms.

He looked to the heavens in thanks. The clouds had parted, and the moonlight shone brightly now. A dark sliver grew larger across the face of the moon. The eclipse had begun. They didn’t have much time. Simon slipped his arms under her and stood. He carried her down the beach back to where he’d cast off his jacket. Kneeling down, he gently set Elizabeth on the sand. He fumbled through his pockets with trembling hands. Where was it? Finally, his fingers brushed over the cold metal and he pulled out the watch. The black disc already partially covered the moon dial. Simon grasped her hand tightly.

“Don’t let go,” she said, and gripped his hand with both of her own.

Simon tightened his grip. “Never.”

The blue light sparked off the watch and snaked up his arm. Nothing would separate them now. Electric blue energy engulfed them. The world around them vibrated with frenetic energy. And they fell again into blackness.

Simon woke to the gentle sound of a crackling fire. He opened his eyes, and his living room coalesced around him. Two wine glasses sat on the coffee table on either side of a small mahogany box. His entire body ached, and he lifted a hand to massage the pain in his temple. Disorientation faded and the memories came back.

He lifted his head and reached out for her.

“Elizabeth.”

Dear God, what if she hadn’t made it back?

Forgetting his headache, and anything but his fear, he pushed himself up from the chair. He scanned the room quickly and then saw her lying on the floor. She lay in heap, her legs and arms akimbo. His heart leapt into his throat. She moaned and opened her eyes. “Thank you God,” he said as he knelt down by her side.

Her hand gripped his arm.

“It’s all right,” he said as he stroked her cheek. “I thought I’d lost you.”

“Gonna have to try harder than that.” Her voice was soft and hoarse, and the most beautiful thing he’d ever heard.

He gave a short laugh that made his ribs scream in protest. She closed her eyes and let out a breath.

“Did we make it? Or is this a dream?”

“No,” he said, brushing his fingers below the cut on her forehead. “Not a dream. Are you hurt badly?”

She shook her head and tried to sit up.

“You shouldn’t move,” he said, pushing back gently on her shoulders.

She wrinkled her forehead, grimacing in pain and bringing a shaky hand to touch the cut. He gripped her hand in his, reminded of a time a few weeks, or was it decades ago when he’d done the same thing.

“You look like hell,” she said, touching the bruise on his head.

Her clothes were soaked and sand covered her side. Blood trickled down her cheek and stained the collar of her dress.

“You’re one to talk,” he said. “You should go to hospital.”

She shook her head. “I hate hospitals.”

“Elizabeth—”

“I’m too pooped to be prodded.”

“You’ll have a scar.”

“Give me character,” she mumbled.

“Elizabeth.”

She closed her eyes. “Can’t you kiss it and make it better?”

“You’re impossible.”

“And inclined to stay that way,” she said. “But if you don’t help me up, I’m gonna fall asleep on your floor.”

“No sleeping. Not yet. Take it slowly,” he said as he helped her sit up. “Good. We’ll move to the sofa now, all right?”

“I’m not an invalid,” she said, but swayed on her feet and gripped his arm. “Except for now.”

He maneuvered them to the sofa, and she sank down into the cushions with a groan. She nodded toward the coffee table. “I’d feel better if that thing were locked up.”

Following her gaze, he saw the watch resting on the floor under the table. “Agreed.”

Painfully, he leaned over and picked it up and quickly put it inside the box. He slammed the lid closed. If he never saw the damned thing again, it would be too soon.

“Much better,” she said and leaned her head back against the cushions.

“Right,” he said, turning his full attention back to her. Gently, he pulled her matted hair away from the cut.

“Is it really over?” she asked, wincing as he checked the depth of her wound.

“It seems so,” he said. The cut on her forehead continued to bleed. “You really should have that tended to.”

“I know.”

It felt surreal to be back in the quiet of his house. The stormy beach and the fight for their lives seemed like a dream fading from reality into memory. The abrupt shift back to normalcy left him oddly ill at ease. The once familiar surroundings felt more foreign than comforting.

They sat in silence for a few moments. Elizabeth’s small fingers played over his, slowly tracing the tarnished band of gold on his ring finger. “What happens now?”

“We take you to hospital.”

“No, I meant, with us,” she said, her expression so endearingly unsure. “Everything’s different here.”

He covered her hand with his. “Not everything,” he said, gently cupping her cheek. “As far as I’m concerned, there’s only one thing that matters. Elizabeth, if I have you, the rest of the world can hang. It doesn’t matter what place, what time. 1929, 2029, nothing can change the way I feel.”

She smiled and wiped the tears from her eyes. “Simon.”

“Welcome home, love.”

She leaned in to kiss him. He put his arms around her and gladly obliged.

Monique was born in Houston, Texas, but her family soon moved to Southern California. She grew up on both coasts, living in Connecticut and California. She currently resides in Southern California with her naughty Siamese cat, Monkey.

She’s currently working on an adaptation of one of her screenplays, several short stories and novels and the next book in the Out of Time series.

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