The Navigators (24 page)

Barry sighed. “Okay.”

Melissa turned and disappeared out the door. Barry watched as it clicked shut. “She’s a real piece of work, isn’t she? Bossing everybody around?”

“Yes, she is.”

He looked over at me and smiled. “Kinda hot, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

Barry shifted on the bed again, stretching out. “Man, I need some sleep, but somehow I don’t think I’ll be able to.”

His leg looked rough. The swelling was getting worse. I needed to get going. Turning on the TV, I flipped through the few channels Motel 6 provided. “Here. The USF baseball team is playing.” I handed Barry the remote. “You can watch the big game. It’s just starting.”

“Baseball.” He groaned. “If anything would put me to sleep, it would be that.”

I went to the sink. “I’m going to wash up before I head out.”

“Have at it.”

When Melissa returned, she had some crackers and Cheetos. I got Barry a cup of water from the bathroom.

Melissa fluffed up his pillows again. “Get some rest, okay?”

Barry took a deep breath. “I can’t make any promises. Getting shot at has the effect of waking me up pretty good.”

She moved a wisp of hair from his forehead. “Try.”

He rubbed his neck, peering up at her. “How long do you think you’ll be gone?”

“A few hours at least, maybe more. Will you be all right?”

He nodded.

“Okay, well…” She glanced at me. “The sooner I get rid of that truck, the better, so let’s go. Peeky?”

I headed to the door.

Barry pushed himself up in the bed. “Be careful, you guys.”

Chapter Twenty-Seven

B
arry stared at the time machine and recalled Peeky’s words from a few days ago.

If you had a time machine, where would you go? Who would you visit?

It might as well have been years ago that he’d uttered them.

How much has changed since then.

His eyes drifted over the dials and knobs. They called to him.

What would you do if you had a time machine?

Time was short. It may have already run out. The police were after them, the news was broadcasting about them . . . in his heart, Barry knew the last grains of sand were slipping out of the hour glass. He and his friends had fought the good fight, but it would soon be over – and there were no indications they’d emerge on the victorious side.

How long could they last at the motel? How long before the clerk saw the news and put two and two together?

They were being hunted by friends, too—people who knew their homes and families, who would put road blocks on the interstate highways and surveillance on their houses. Their phones and credit cards had been shut off. The hunters were probably networking through their classmates and friends, finding out who’d been contacted. Eventually Melissa, Peeky or Barry would have to surface for air, and when they did the game would end. Even the idea of going public seemed dashed, since Melissa had been seen robbing the Radio Shack. The store surveillance video would implicate them all, and any credibility would be lost.

What would you do if you had a time machine?

He stared at the big bronze oval.

Well, I have a time machine. Maybe not for much longer, but I have it right now.

Peeky’s words taunted him.

Where would you go? Who would you visit?

“I would…” He took a deep breath. “I’d pack a lunch and go see some dinosaurs.”

Looking over the control panel, he chuckled. “Go back about a million years, maybe drop in at Badlands, Montana. Say ‘Hi’ to T-Rex.” He pulled himself out of the machine and checked the fuel gauge. It had dropped considerably.

“Wow.” He slid back into the seat and inspected the metal frame. “You aren’t built for economy, are you, old girl? A five minute trip with a clock and a quick visit to Rome, and half of your gas is gone?” He ran his hand up and down the bronze oval. “We don’t even know how to refuel you. Probably never will.” Slouching, Barry shook his head. “Not enough time. How’s that for irony? I don’t have enough time to figure out how to refuel my time machine.”

The dials and levers provided no answer. “I’d be willing to bet, though, that you use a lot of power getting up and running. Like a jet airplane. They burn a lot getting off the ground. Then a trip of two thousand years or ten thousand years hardly makes a difference . . .” He turned a few knobs. “And a self-regulating system won’t let me launch for a trip I can’t return from, will it?”

He glanced around for the borrowed cell phone. “Minnie?” Barry eyed the time machine. “You don’t mind if I call you ‘Minnie’ do you? ‘Time Machine’ just sounds too formal at this point.” A few taps on the phone screen brought up the mapping app. Barry located Vero Beach, Florida.

“Minnie, it seems around 10,000 years ago, the lovely seaside town of Vero Beach was literally inundated with mastodons. Yep, they were crazy for the place—what, with three underground springs and all, it was an easy place to graze and water. Mastodon heaven.”

He cranked the machine’s latitude knobs. “It still might be, too, if they hadn’t all died off. Now it’s geriatric heaven. But that’s a whole other thing. It’s a relatively short trip, so we should be able to go and get back on the fuel we have left, and we’ll only be gone a few minutes… What’s that? Peeky and Melissa?” He rested a hand on the frame. “Good point, old girl. They’ll miss out again.”

“Well.” He patted his broken leg. “We all have to make sacrifices.”

Barry glanced at the phone and made the last few adjustments to the knobs. “What do you say, darling? Are you up for a late night stroll?”

Placing his hands on the levers, he pursed his lips. “Hold your ears and close your eyes tight, Minnie, there’s going to be a heck of a racket in a minute. But you already know that, don’t you?” He leaned over to toss the phone onto the bed–no cell service 10,000 years ago–and stopped himself.

The tiny dot of the phone’s camera stared at him. “Pictures. Minnie, what a good idea. Thank you.” Glancing around at the room one last time, his eyes fell on the packets of crackers. “And there’s lunch.” He reached over and grabbed them, stuffing them into the backpack with the phone.

“I think that’s about it, Minnie. Ready?”

Dropping his hands onto the levers, he shifted them into place one after the other.

Here we go. Sorry about the noise, neighbors.

The whirring started. He let the backpack balance on his knees while he covered his ears with his hands. “I remember this as being pretty bad, Min!”

The whirring grew louder. “Yep,” Barry shouted. “This is what I remember.”

The noise grew to a deafening pitch. He scrunched down, pressing his hands to his head as hard as he could. “Damn, this sucks!” He squeezed his eyes shut. “Wow! Owwwww!”

Then there was a brilliant flash.

* * * * *

It had already been a long day and still a lot needed to be done. Melissa leaned against the truck and inspected her feet. The lone security light from behind the mall shoe store was enough to see what she already knew.

Blisters.

She sighed, shutting the truck door. The keys dangled from the ignition.

If we can pull this off and somehow save ourselves, these sore feet won’t matter. If we don’t, all the blisters in the world won’t make a difference in what happens.

Basically, the blisters don’t matter.

So let’s get ready for a nice long jog across campus, because nobody cares about your sore feet, Missy.

* * * * *

Barry’s head throbbed. He uncoiled himself from the backpack and looked around. A lush tropical forest stretched out in all directions, bright green and sunny.

This definitely isn’t the motel.

The ringing in his ears wasn’t as bad as he expected, and his eyes didn’t seem to have the afterburn problem he’d had as an observer. Humid air washed over him, bringing the noise of birds and the scent of pine trees.

He eased himself off the metal seat, holding the machine by one hand, taking in his surroundings with a silent reverence as though he were in a church. The awesomeness of what he’d just done came to him in a wave. Roger hadn’t explained it. The raw forces of physics coming together to take him to another place in time. It was overwhelming. His knees wobbled, causing him to grab the oval frame.

He swallowed, blinking back a tear, his voice a whisper. “Minnie… I think we did it.”

Massive palm trees stretched toward the sky and huge ferns hugged every available inch of ground. The heat rose up from the tall, wet grass like a sauna. Flights of small birds cut through the clear sky.

Barry stood there, mouth open. “My God. It’s so beautiful.” In the distance, a light mist hovered over patches of the long grass.

I guess it just rained.

Stepping out and holding the frame for balance, he inhaled and tasted the ancient air. “It’s… paradise. Hard to believe that in just ten thousand years, none of this will be here.” He chuckled, drawing his eyes over the tree line. “I sound like my grandpa, not a scientist. ‘All of this used to be palmettos’—that’s what he was always saying. ‘Now it’s condos. Damned shame.’”

He breathed deep.
Now I know what he meant.

“Minnie.” He patted the machine. “I hate to leave you, old girl. But if we did what I think we did, I have to go see about some mastodons.” He glanced up at the sky. “Looks to be mid-morning. Maybe there are a few around getting some water. What are your thoughts? Go check? Don’t mind if I do. I don’t think anybody’s going to come snatch you away, so…”

Easing his foot into the wet grass, he winced and prepared for a jolt of pain. The broken ankle was still swollen and steps were becoming more difficult. “A crutch, eh Minnie? I guess I’ll have to. My armpits are still bloody from the last ones, but beggars can’t be choosers.”

Tall, wide laurel oaks stood on the other side of a small clearing, rising above the palms. “What I need is one of those camels that used to live around here. I could sure use a ride.”

He gritted his teeth and put his weight on the foot again. “Well, if I don’t bang the cast around too much and hop gently, I might get to those trees and find a suitable branch for a crutch. Maybe I’ll cross paths with a mastodon along the way.”

He eyed the backpack. “In which case, I’ll be needing the camera.” Slinging the bag over his shoulder, he sighed. “It’s just as hot as modern times. No wonder people didn’t move here in volume until there was air conditioning.” He turned to the machine. “Don’t look at me like that. You were buried in a nice cool mine.”

Balancing, he turned to the trees and took a few tentative steps. “I’ll be back in time for dinner. Don’t wait up.”

Cicadas buzzed the tops of the grasses as birds and small animals announced Barry’s approach to the forest. A stream meandered through the clearing, winding its way around large chunks of lime rock and an occasional tree root. The thick mass of grass made walking difficult. It softened his steps but it tangled around his legs, slowing his progress.

A sharp sting pierced his neck “Good God!” Barry slapped at it, whipping his head upright. Blood came away on his hand. “Mosquito. Figures.”

A cloud of insects hummed around him—then came the bites, like mini daggers. The mosquitos engulfed him, flying onto his arms and his legs, up his shorts, down his neck. He was dressed for heat, not insect defense. The tiny vampires buzzed his ears and flew into his mouth.

“Shit! Shit! Shit!” He swatted in all directions. The mosquitos attacked every inch of unprotected skin. “Shit!”

The stream. He made a mad one-legged dash for it, batting at the attacking swarm as he ran for the water.

In seconds, he was upon it, splashing in at full speed. He pushed his way in a few steps and fell forward into the current. Rolling over, he threw water onto his face then resubmerged, rubbing his burning arms and legs as fast as possible. Another breath. The bugs were waiting. He fanned them with his hand long enough to grab a breath, then plunged his face under the cool surface again.

The stream’s bottom was muddy. Breaking the surface again, Barry smeared handfuls of mud across his cheeks and neck, pushing it over his nose and ears, slapping it onto his forehead and chin. “This is how the old guys did it, you little blood suckers.” He reached down and grabbed more mud and plastered it over his mouth. “If this worked for them, it’ll work for me. Try to bite through this.”

He raised himself up to chest level as a few mosquitoes hovered near his face. None landed on his muddy skin.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

His body heat and warm breath kept the interest of the mosquitoes for a while, but with nothing to eat they would eventually move on. The mud would work well enough as a barrier; it was simply too thick to bite through and the risk of getting stuck in it was a death sentence for a predatory insect.

Barry sat by the side of the stream, slathering mud everywhere. Behind his ears, up his shorts, everywhere. Any forgotten surface would be remembered quickly with the next mosquito bite, and he already had over a hundred. He pushed a thick swath of mud through his hair.

The stream was pretty, and it was cool. As he neared completion of his paint job, Barry noticed the steamy humidity again.

Not too many animals would be out in this heat. Certainly not big ones like mastodons. Where would one go to avoid the sun and to graze? The forest seemed likely. It contained thick trees and thin ones, a variety of leafy plants for mastodons to eat, and shade—important relief from the incessant, broiling sun. Although modern elephants used mud for that, too, tossing dirt onto their wet backs to make a sun shield. He didn’t know if mastodons did.

They were cousins, though, the mastodon and the elephant. Aside from a haircut, they looked alike. Maybe they acted alike, too. How much could change in ten thousand years, anyway? After all, the long trunk remained, and so did the big ears.

They were known to have a keen sense of smell but only mediocre eyesight. Their hearing was top notch, though.

I guess if you’re the biggest beast in the jungle, you don’t have to worry too much about seeing what’s-

Out of the corner of his eye, something moved. It glided through the tall grass, a large shadow on a path parallel to the stream. Barry held his breath and lowered himself back into the water.

What is it? An animal of some sort. A predator, from the way it moves.

The shadow was only about twenty feet away, but the wind was in Barry’s favor. He held the backpack on his chest and submerged up to his nose.

All animals can be dangerous, and a surprised animal is the most dangerous. Whatever this was, it was inadvertently coming near him, but hadn’t seen him yet. His heart pounded in his chest as he watched the shadow creep closer.