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Authors: CJ Martin

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BOOK: The Temporal
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Chapter 12

Japan

 

 

Sam heard noises before he saw anything. He was able to discern only vague shapes and textures. Everything was nearly pitch black even though he was fully aware that his eyes were open. Running water and a distant clanging of metal seemed to indicate someone was washing dishes on the other side of a wall. Dishes? Or could it be someone sharpening knives?

In time, Sam
’s optic nerve relayed more information of the room’s dim light to his brain. With the light now registering—however poorly—he realized he was staring at a wooden ceiling and that he was flat on his back, unable to move. Some unknown object—heavy and warm—lay across his chest and draped over his legs.

Sam
’s mind searched his most recent memories. He remembered an evening outside the hospital.
Last night?
The distance in time seemed to have no meaning and yet the memory came back as if it were happening once again. The shrubbery in his mind again swayed with the wind. Odd disembodied voices from multiple directions echoed in his head. It was his memory, of course, but it was no less real in the moment.

Mentally retracing his steps, his last memories before waking were disturbing. The black hooded creatures in front of him had vividly returned to his mind
’s eye, startling him every bit as much as they had the night before. He remembered a prick in his neck and relived that instantaneous sense of complete loss of strength.

They took me someplace. They took me here.

Sam began to panic or at least he would have panicked had it been possible. His fingers and toes trembled but failed to move beyond a nervous, twitchy motion. He needed to sit up and find a way to escape, but his body simply ignored his commands.

After dozens of attempts and with great effort, Sam managed to fling his right arm over his belly. His muscles seemed to have atrophied; even simple movements required the utmost concentration and strength.

His eyes looked down. The heavy, warm object on his chest appeared to be a blanket.
A blanket?
The weight of his two arms, now on his left side, helped twist his torso vertically. Sam found himself on his side. He also managed to drop the left side of his face into a pillow he hadn’t known was there.

Sam heard the sound of running water stop. There was the screech of metal upon metal. It must be knives
—it had been knives being sharpened.

Sam, knowing his survival rested on stealthy actions, paused a few seconds, drawing in long but shallow breaths. Sucking in air was a chore. His throat felt
constricted and his tongue was swollen, filling his mouth. His lips were dry, and his tongue, despite its size, felt just as dry.

He was someone
’s prisoner and he had to get out of there. He thought it remarkable that they hadn’t taken the time to chain him to the bed. Perhaps they knew the drug would still be rendering him helpless?

After another great exertion, he felt his legs begin to drop off the side of the bed. A fleeting sense of joy was quickly replaced with horror. There was a momentum to the movement that had
his upper torso uncontrollably following his legs. Panic coursed through his body as he realized he couldn’t manage his arms well enough to prevent his whole body from falling flat to the floor.

A painful moment after the loud thud,
Sam heard the sound of feet rushing from the other room, then the sound of a now familiar voice.


Sam! Are you all right? Please don’t try to move.”

It was Suteko. Sam couldn
’t see her, but he had no doubt it was the voice of the woman of his dreams—an angel to his rescue. As she came into sight, he realized he had been crying streams of tears which flowed down and across his cheeks and then over the bridge of his nose. Like the rest of his body, he could not control his tears.

Her voice continued, filled with concern.
“They gave you something inducing paralysis. It will take some time, but it seems to be wearing off.”

She scooped him up into her arms and placed him back in the bed as if he were
as light as a feather. The blanket that had fallen with his body was quickly draped over him once more. Sam’s mind was foggy and his body had no control and yet, his only thought was of wonder at her amazing show of super-human strength.

Suteko
, Sam thought, but could not speak.

She leaned over, her hands caressing his cheeks gingerly. She saw
the terror in his eyes and that he wanted to speak but couldn’t. Her heart melted as she tried to calm him.


It will be all right. You were attacked. I arrived in time to scare them off. I know you have many questions. I don’t have many answers, but I promise you,” she said, looking at him with serious eyes, “we will discover them together.”

Whil
e stroking his hair, she smiled. Hope somehow surged throughout Sam’s unfeeling body. There was something to her touch that brought much comfort.


Sleep, Sam. You will feel much better when you awake.”

Sam tried to nod, but contented himself with the realization that he was able to close his eyes. His eyelids were heavy and
unlike the rest of his body, they obeyed him without struggle.

Chapter 13

San Francisco

 

 

Tonight, Professor McGregor was ready. He spent the latter part of the afternoon carefully layering his backseat with plastic. He had a shovel in the trunk and a box of latex gloves just under the passenger seat. It had all been bought in cash with the transactions hours apart and at different locations.

It was past ten
at night as he killed the engine and lights, letting the car coast off the side of the dirt road and into a natural garage of shrubbery and trees.

The women
’s dormitory he found was about an hour north of his apartment. It seemed ideal. There was a park adjacent and the school was small—smaller than his community college. He hadn’t actually been there before, but Google Maps made casing the location safe and easy.

From his current parking spot to the entrance of the dorm would take no more than ten minutes on foot
—even carrying someone on his shoulder. He exited the car, keeping it unlocked. He may have to flee quickly and locking the doors would only slow him down. Besides, he reasoned, it was a safe, low crime area.

Satisfied that all was ready, he started off into the woods toward his goal. Keeping to the shadows, he more or less headed due east. Occasionally, he would stop to listen to the sounds of his surroundings; he was especially interested in any unnatural sounds like those of other humans.

Human beings had blood on their collective hands. Overpopulation, deforestation, pollution, anthropogenic climate change—the list of man’s sins were long and damning. McGregor understood this. As a human being himself, his personal penitence came in the form of decisions about his lifestyle: recycling, buying earth-friendly products, and most of all educating his students. But all that paled in comparison to the service he would do tonight.

This evening
, he would offer to Gaia the greatest sacrifice he could: one less human being to contaminate the earth. He knew also that targeting women would reduce the number of breeders—a far more effective sacrifice than killing males.

Reaching the edge of the park, he could see the dormitory
’s light ahead. He began to slow his pace, careful to keep deep in the shadows and remain silent.

Looking up, he
watched as the entrance to the dorm opened. A girl stepped out. McGregor’s heart began to beat faster. This was it—this was what he had been called here for.

The girl didn
’t walk far before stopping. She quickly turned on her heels and seemed to be heading back to the dorm. For a moment, McGregor was disappointed. But then she stopped, huddling over a bit. Her face and hands were hidden from McGregor’s view.

Was she crying? Did she need consolation? Absolution perhaps?

Just as suddenly, the girl turned back into view. He could see her now. She hadn’t huddled over to cry. She had stepped out to have a smoke.

It was a confirmation
—a sign even, McGregor realized. This human not only breathed out carbon dioxide, but other poisons too! This was exceptionally good news for two reasons: the girl was most likely alone, smoking primarily being a solitary activity. And she would be there for a few minutes, plenty of time to accomplish his mission.

He moved light-footed down the line of the park until he was flush with the entrance of the dorm. If he was careful, he could sneak behind her and grab her without her knowing.

And then what?
McGregor thought, momentarily morphing into a deer caught by the intriguing headlights of the girl.
And then I’ll gag her and carry her to the car
.  His right hand patted his left hand’s wrist. He was wearing half a roll of duct tape, and feeling it there reassured him that he was now ready.

The girl looked light
—maybe 110 pounds—and perhaps would even go willingly?

McGregor weighed his options: surprise or seduction?

He had a high opinion of himself with regard to the fairer sex, but his last two encounters hadn’t worked as well as he had hoped. He decided that the element of surprise would be better. After all, he didn’t have a history with this girl and developing a rapport would take time.

Leaving the shelter of the shadows, McGregor made his decision. Footfall after footfall seemed to grow louder and less natural than the noisy crickets and light wind. Perhaps it was just
his seasoned ears overacting; she wouldn’t hear him. Closing over half the distance, the girl hadn’t turned save to flick a few ashes to the side.

He moved close enough to smell her smoke. It was intoxicating.

He was quiet, but suddenly not quiet enough. The girl turned around; he stopped. Their eyes met without a word exchanged between them. He crooked his neck slightly to one side. She dropped her cigarette, not bothering to snuff it out with the sole of her shoe. He began his final approach.


Who are you?”

He wanted to savor the moment without spoiling it with speech.

“What do you want?”

McGregor
’s mouth opened but he remained speechless.

She took a step back. He was between her and the dorm. The area was fairly well lit, but it was overcast and with the light behind him, he felt certain that she could not discern any of his features or his intentions.

She took off. She ran in a direction away from the dorm, but also away from the safety of the wooded park. This was unacceptable.

McGregor caught up with her quicker than he thought he
would be able. Wrapping his arms around her, he stopped her advances as they tumbled to the ground.

It was her screaming that caused the back of his right hand to slam into her chin. This seemed to exasperate the situation. She was now screaming
and
kicking.


Quiet!” he said, pushing her to the ground. He peeled off a length of the duct tape from his wrist as she continued her attempt to squirm away from him. The boot on his right foot slammed down on one of her ankles keeping that leg at bay. His hand fell on her bloodied mouth, partially covering it with the tape.

She continued screaming somehow even louder through the gaps of tape and hand.

Ripping another piece of the tape from the roll on his wrist, he repositioned his legs in order to arrest the movement of her other leg. He applied the tape to her mouth more securely just as he heard some shouting behind him.


What the hell are you doing?!”

McGregor
’s head turned to see some guy running to disturb their intimacy. McGregor’s survival instincts overrode his sudden anger at being interrupted, and he jumped off the girl, sprinting to the woods. He continued to hear shouts behind him. The guy wasn’t alone and he was calling for more help.

As he entered the wooded area, McGregor risked one last glance behind him. He saw the girl being helped up by someone while two others were running full-speed for him. They looked athletic;
McGregor at sixty-three was anything but athletic. Still, he had the advantage of a head-start and knowing where he was going through the dense woods.

The branches he had so carefully avoided during his initial approach tore into
the skin on his arms and legs. The sounds of nature were completely silent; human sounds—angry human sounds had replaced them.

Every tree he passed seemed to be pointing its branches at him. He thought he heard a birch yell,
“Here he is!” An ancient oak left one of its many roots exposed, causing McGregor to momentarily stumble. If nature had abandoned him, what reason did he have for continuing? The animals and insects that had been so deafening earlier were silent. No doubt they too were wishing to aid his pursuers. There was no breeze as there had been earlier to suck up and eliminate any stray sound as he fled.

The angry human voices behind him had grown in intensity and number. Still, the opening where he had parked his car was just ahead. He jerked his hand into his right pocket, fumbling for the keys. He cursed as his slippery-from-sweat fingers
failed to separate his car key from the jumble of apartment and school keys.

Just then, he heard a sound

was that a siren?
His mind imagined cops waiting for him at his car. His feet began to sag, defying his will to move. The voices behind him continued to grow in volume. He had to take the chance and get to his car.

After a pause to settle his nerves, he leapt out from the woods, slamming his torso unexpectedly into the hood of his car. Using the momentum to his advantage, he was able to roll over the hood and land on his two feet in front of the driver
’s side door. A moment later, he was seated and the key was in the ignition.

From his rear view mirror and through a cloud of dust, he
could just make out several angry, dark figures running unsuccessfully to catch up with his speeding car.

 


 

Did she see my face?
McGregor’s mind began to race along with the roaring engine.
Did the worms chasing me get a good look at my clothes? My car?

McGregor began to replay the event in his mind.
She couldn’t have seen me.
She had closed her eyes after he grabbed her and the light had been behind him. The fools who had chased him never got close enough to see him. It was dark and they had not been in a position to even get a glimpse at his license plate.

Suddenly confident, he slowed his car to normal highway speed and began to look for a late-night Denny
’s for some early breakfast.

BOOK: The Temporal
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