Read Saboteur: A Novel Online

Authors: J. Travis Phelps

Saboteur: A Novel (28 page)

BOOK: Saboteur: A Novel
12.16Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Chapter
XXX

Downy awakened with his face against the screen of his
sliding glass door. He had returned to the exact spot where he and Caesar had
gone through together. He pulled himself up and as he did the sword slid out
onto the floor from inside his jacket. It reflected a glimmering gold and
silver. The birds off his balcony were chirping wildly now, as if in
appreciation. He inspected it more closely, trying to read the various
inscriptions, but they looked foreign even to him. Was Caesar telling the truth
about its age? Nothing seemed impossible to him now.

He walked into his living room, surveying the emptiness. At
least the police tape had been removed, a grim reminder of what had taken place
there. He and Naomi would have to leave of course. Nothing could ever be the
same in their house. He also realized that by returning he had committed to a
world in which both Charlie and Samara was truly lost. It horrified him, but
what other choice did he have? There would be no story to tell the police of
course, not that they would believe. What of their missing detective though? He
hadn’t thought of him and Caesar hadn’t brought him up again either. Perhaps Caesar
had released him somehow. He had kept his word on all other matters. It truly
pained him to disappoint Detective Sullivan and in spite of everything he still
had a warm feeling about him. And then there was Charlie. Had the cops found
him yet? Or worse the Vestals? Or was he trapped forever in the past?

He walked to the counter and reached for his bottle of
scotch, but it was gone. Whiskey would have to do: the cheap stuff, Jim Beam.
He pulled his phone from his pocket and dialed. He wanted to find out if
Charlie had been found, if anything had happened in the search for the missing
detective. The line picked up immediately, but went straight to an ‘out of
order’ message. He looked at his phone to double check the number. He was
calling the right phone. Then he scrolled down to his wife’s number. He hadn’t
spoken to her in what felt like a thousand years. He dialed and waited. She
must be frantic by now not having heard from him. The number rang and rang, but
no voicemail ever picked up. Then the doorbell rang, nearly causing him to lose
his drink. It was the police no doubt, so he downed his whisky before walking
to the door. So what if they smelled it? He winked one eye and peered into the
hole. Outside stood the mailman of all people. He had an envelope in his hand
and was already looking through the glass of the side window. Downy opened the
door.

“Hello sir,” he said seeming
startled, “Are you Noah Downy, Professor Noah Downy by chance?”

“Yes, that’s me.”

Downy suddenly noticed the mail
truck parked at the curb, which was full of passengers, other mailmen it
seemed. They were all watching intently through the windows.

“Holy shit man, I can’t believe you
answered; when I saw the house was for sale I thought for sure no one lived
here. You just won me a ton in the office pool.”

Downy looked confused, staring out
at the for sale sign in the yard. Someone had placed it there mistakenly no
doubt.

“I’m sorry, what’s this about?”

The mailman shuffled nervously
seeming to regain his composure. “I’m sorry if--I didn’t mean to be impolite,
it’s just that--well this letter has been around as long as the office itself.
None of us believed there’d be--I do need a signature.”

He looked down at the extremely
weathered looking envelope. His name and address were written on the front in
all caps, but there was no return address. Written beneath his name were the
words:
Read Immediately
.

“Thank you,” Downy said turning to
go back inside.

He could hear the mailman running
excitedly back to his truck. Then Downy stopped in his tracks. The sign, the
furniture. He’d sent him back to the wrong time. My God, of course! How could
he have been so stupid? The drug always made things hazy, unclear. Caesar had
made a mistake and sent him back too early. He looked up from the letter and
around the room in a panic. They hadn’t taken his furniture because it had
never been there. They hadn’t even moved in yet. That’s why there were no cops
answering or his wife. It meant Samara was still al--

A voice interrupted him. “I’ve sent
you home a bit prematurely, haven’t I?” It was Caesar leaning against the wall,
his belt hanging loosely off one hip. He had an altogether different look in
his eyes. He still wore the purple bordered tunic from their last meeting.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“I had to come back for you
professor.”

“I thought you were—“

“I know. For the record, I have
still never lied to you. I said my death was in keeping with nature. So then is
my ability to stop it apparently.”

Downy looked down to the letter in his
hands.

“There’s no reason to read that
now.”

“What about your plan, what about
the Ides?”

“Yes, even now the Vestals are in
the Senate house cleaning up after me, ghastly creatures. They scuttle about
like phantoms. I know not what they are. They will come here next, sadly, and
that I cannot allow.”

“Why are you here?”

“Great movements always require a
supreme sacrifice, often equal to their ambition I’m afraid.”

Downy looked to the corner where
the sword had been. It was gone. Caesar pulled open his robes.

“As I told you, this blade brings
great power and
tragedy
.” Caesar
swung as he always did, in a true, straight line; not with malice, but lovingly
to release him. It cut through Downy’s throat first, then down his torso. Blood
spattered in great torrents around the room as Downy twirled in agony,
hopelessly trying to defend himself. Caesar wanted to give a quick death, so he
lunged and stabbed several times, hitting for the heart with each blow.

“There is no future with you in it,
I’m afraid, good man; but in your death there are a thousand lives waiting to
be born.

But Downy had stopped listening. He
was in a light place now where the words seemed muted, inconsequential. He came
to rest finally in the room’s corner. He was about to say something, but it
escaped him. The whisky was still on his lips, reminding him of home. He was
headed there now and felt calm.

 

Epilogue

 

Detective Fleming pushed at the door with all his strength,
finally breaking through. A call had been made that someone heard screaming
coming from the house, which was on the market for sale and supposedly empty.
Fleming crouched low when he saw the blood on the walls and pulled his weapon.
He reached for his radio and called the station immediately whispering,

“We have a situation, a possible
1031 at 381 Latimer St. Send paramedics and back up, possible homicide, suspect
possibly at large, repeat suspect possibly at large.”

The room was empty, but through the
kitchen he could see through to the back patio deck, which opened into a panoramic
view of the ocean. He thought he could see some movement and approached with
his gun drawn.

“I’m armed and will use my weapon,”
Fleming shouted.

He made his way silently around the
corner, but could find no one. The leap was too far for anyone to have risked
it he figured. The blood on the walls was still fresh though, of that he was
sure, but the house was completely silent and empty. He heard a voice outside
announcing SDPD and then another officer appeared, leaning in cautiously
through the front door.

“I was in the area, heard your
call.” It was detective Jensen. “My God,” he muttered, “where did all this
blood come from?”

The two men cautiously explored the
house, but could locate no one. On the table sat an opened bottle of Jim Beam
whiskey.

 
“We can test that later,” Jensen said.

“Whose place is it?”

“It’s empty, up for sale. We will
need to contact the owner.”

“Whoever this was is dead for
sure,” Jensen said pointing to the wall.

“Helluva place to kill someone
too,” Fleming said staring out to the back doors. A flock of birds burst
suddenly from the trees below and took to flight. The men peered over the
ledge, but could spot no one.

“Yes it is,” he said, “Yes it is.”

 
 

***

 

Artemidorus demanded in a tense whisper
to know who was at his door at such an ungodly hour.

“Thank you my old friend,” came the
voice in return. “You have served me well twice this day.”

“Great gods, Caesar! You yet live?”

“Yes, my friend, of course, but
remember I go by Taro now.”

“I had forgotten, sorry my son.”

“How are my compatriots?”

“Well,” he said nervously, “it will
take the girl a bit more time to wake up. She’s been tinctured to the brink I’m
afraid, but she will survive.”

“Where are we?” Sullivan said
coming to, realizing he too must have been unconscious for some time.

The four lay around a tiny fire in
the middle of a room with a great opening in the ceiling above. They’d all
taken ill before drinking a cup of wine with the old man, to calm their nerves,
and then could remember nothing.

Taro stood over the fire warming
his hands.

“That little pond over there will
let you go anywhere you want. Dream big, detective. Your life is one of great
fortune, I’d say. You will see sights others could only dream of.”

Tackett raised his head groggily,
staring into the small fire, watching as the embers moved up into the night
sky. Taro drank heartily from a wineskin. He swiped at his lips before
speaking.

“You’ll find the pond with the help
of my dear friend here. The drug has been stored in great quantities at the
Priory of the order of the Gracchi. It stands in all time threads I’ve
traversed, so you should always be able to find it. Everything else you need
can be found here.”

He slung a tiny book at each of
them.

Tackett held it up in the light.
“What the hell is this?”

“It has maps to the priory and far
beyond. Artemidorus has the medicines you will require for the short term. Read
the rules of that little book well my friends and whatever you do read the
chapter on avoiding the Vestals. Everything else should be perfectly clear.
I’ve tried to write sparingly, without overcomplicating the topic.”

Sullivan held the book up to the
light:

 

On Traveling Through Time

By Gaius Taro

 

Caesar pulled his cloak over his
head concealing his face and moved to depart.

“Where are you going?” Sullivan
said. “You haven’t explain--”

“I’m headed to parts unknown, just
like you detective. I never grow tired of Rome, you see. It’s just that it is
so full of Romans,” he said with a great laugh.

And then he turned and was gone.

 
 
 
 
 

The End

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
BOOK: Saboteur: A Novel
12.16Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Jigsaw (Black Raven Book 2) by Stella Barcelona
His Need by Ana Fawkes
Mia’s Scandal by Michelle Reid
The Trophy Wife by Ashley, JaQuavis
The Black Cauldron by Alexander, Lloyd
Latham's Landing by Tara Fox Hall
The Reading Circle by Ashton Lee
The Secret Life of a Funny Girl by Susan Chalker Browne
Fatal by Eric Drouant