15 Minutes: A YA Time Travel Thriller (Rewind Series) (19 page)

She
was spotted at my dad’s prison. My mother called her a ghost. I warned Mike
about her.

And
now she’s standing right in front of me.

I
pivot on my heel to face the woman that appeared behind me. Her hair is long
and the purple is in streaks. She’s wearing sunglasses, and her outfit is made completely
of skintight leather. I don’t know who she is or what she wants, but her being
here is bad.

Real
bad.

“Come
any closer,” I say, “and I’ll scream.”

She
smiles, not entirely unkindly. Her gloved hands go up to her hair and pull it
off. It’s a wig?

“I
always wear this when I’m working. Makes me more of an enigma.” She shakes out
her own hair, also long but in spiral curls. It looks exactly like my mom’s.
She takes off her sunglasses, and my knees go weak. My hands brace against the
basin behind me, so I don’t collapse onto the floor.

“You’re
me?” I say meekly.

She
catches me before I fall. “You have to hang strong, Lara. You’ve made it this
far. You can get out of this.”

“Tell
me what’s going on. Spill it.”

“You
never made it out of the car with Donovan. They apprehended you before you
could leap back in time. They want you to think you jumped.”

“I’d
remember …” I whisper.

She
shakes her head. “Memory swapping, remember? They took those memories out and
put in the ones they want.”

“Why?”

“They
want to find the location of the video, so they can destroy it, so nothing
exists anymore to stop the Senator and Rex.”

I
swallow hard and close my eyes. “So my Mom, my dad … Rick …”

“None
of it is real. I know it’s hard to process this, but I’m going to help you. We
need to fix things.”

 
“So in your past, Rex …” It all clicks in my
mind. “In
your
past, Rex was
successful. You didn’t save Molly. You didn’t save Dad or Mom. The Senator has
the power to make time travelers out of regular men? So anyone in her way can
be stopped thanks to time travel.

“Nothing
went the way we wanted it to,” she whispers.

“You’re
the one who left me the notes.” I know it’s true even before she nods. “Rex’s
men at the YMCA kidnapped me. That’s why you left the notes. They brought me to
the facility and did whatever they are doing to me right now.”

“I’m
afraid so.”

“The
news said you were at the prison when Dad was hurt. Did you try to kill him?”

“No,
I was there to make sure he survived.”

I
try to swallow a frog caught in my throat. “So if they have me, how do I get
out? Won’t I … be turned into you?”

“There’s
still time for you to wake up and save Molly, everyone. But it isn’t going to
be easy.”

I
nod and listen.

“Chaos
is going on out there while you’re in here. Rewind is being raided for illegal
tests on humans. Donovan is searching for you. Our father heard word that you
were kidnapped and broke out of the hospital to find you.”

I
squeeze my eyes shut. So much damage. So much pain. “Is there any way to go
back further? To fix it?”

“This
is as far back as we can go without messing it up worse. I’ve done all I can to
get you here.” She makes a move backward, and fearing she’s going to disappear
into the wall or something, I grab her arm.

“What
happened to you? To us?”

Her
face crumbles, but she regains composure. “Rex broke me. For me, the memories
were more important than reality. I had no reality. The happy world he created
was the most important thing to me, and he used them to control me, get me to
do what he wanted, what they wanted.”

Deep
despair covers her face. “Senators, the government, I’ve changed so much I
don’t recognize the country anymore, or the world. Rex got richer, and I got …
nothing.

“People
work, but there is no real passion. Conviction has left the world. I didn’t do
that by myself, but it started with me, with us. You have to stop it. Find a
way out of here before the police unknowingly give power to the one woman who
will destroy this country.”

“How
do I get out?”

“I
don’t know … I never found one, but I never looked. You have to do it, Lara.”

“If
this is all made up, a fake memory, how did you get in? How can we be talking?”

“Because
I was here once.” Her face looks terrified as she thinks of something I have no
knowledge of yet. “This is a virtual reality I lived in once, which means it
exists in the past, which means I can walk right into it. But we really need
you to say goodbye. You need to get out of here. Soon.” With those last words
spoken, right before my eyes, she disappears.

Now
it’s only me, and I have nowhere to go that’s safe, that’s home. I have to find
a way out of my utopian bliss, or it’s the end of me. It’s the end of
everything, if I can believe she’s real.

If
I can believe I haven’t lost my mind.

I
go to lunch because I’m starving. I’m not sure how I can be hungry in a
fictional world, but I am. I don’t have a lot of money, but I have enough to
buy a sandwich and a bottle of milk.

Socializing
isn’t really high on my list of things to do, so I sit alone. I unfold the wax
paper my sandwich is in and it crinkles. It feels real. But I know it’s not.

Unless
of course, I’m insane, and the purple lady isn’t real. But I think she is. I’ve
been wrong about a lot of things, but the one thing I have never questioned is
my sanity. Maybe I need to. Maybe I should be happy with what I have.

The
sandwich tastes good, and the milk quenches my thirst. How can a memory hit the
spot like that? The cafeteria is loud. The kids are laughing, enjoying
themselves. How can that all be made up? Maybe this reality, if you can call it
that, is designed to work on memories I already have. I’ve drank milk and ate
tuna fish a million times. I already know how they taste; it’s not a new
experience.

That’s
what I need to do. I need to find a new experience and see what happens. Like
the textbook in class, maybe it’ll be blank. I have to pray that’s the case
because if it isn’t, I am pretty sure I can chalk up my entire existence as
stark raving mad.

I
get back in line to read the menu. I need to find something I’ve never eaten.
The menu reads like a fast food restaurant—burgers, fries, meatball
sandwiches—all of which I’ve had before. There’s oatmeal with honey, but I
can’t have honey because I’m allergic. My eyes settle on the special, a veggie burger.
I’m a stark supporter of eating meat and never in my darkest nightmares would I
eat a burger made of beans.

That’s
exactly what I need.

I
rifle through my backpack and can’t find a single dime to my name. Frustrated,
I give a loud sigh, and that’s when someone clears his throat behind me.

It’s
Donovan. I wear shock on my face as he hands me a crumbled up five-dollar bill.

“I
wouldn’t want my old playmate to go hungry.” He offers me a charming smile.

I
thank him and buy the veggie burger. I take my tray back to the table, unable
to shake Donovan, who’s talking the whole way and then sits across from me.

“You’ve
never paid attention to me before. Why aren’t you hanging out with your clique
of friends?” I take the top bun off my burger and remove the patty. I sit it on
my tray and stare at it as a mortal enemy. It’s the moment of truth, but I’m
not ready to bite into it yet.

He
shrugs and leans on the table. “I’ve noticed you. How could I not with hair and
eyes like yours.”

Even
now he’s a charmer, but if I’m sane, he’s not real. He’s only smoke and
mirrors. If I’m insane, well … I don’t really want to think about that.

“I’m
with Rick,” I say to keep up the illusion.

He
leans back, offended. “So people tell me.”

“Oh,
so you’re talking to other people about me?”

“I
had to see what makes you tick. Why don’t you tell me…?” He glances down. “You
on a low-carb diet or something?”

“Not
exactly.”

“You
have to put ketchup on it. You can’t eat it like that.”

“Sure
I can.” I smirk at him and pick up the patty. He appears nervous. I close my
eyes and take a bite. It’s warm and soft but tastes like nothing.

Absolutely
nothing.

I
can’t even taste the black beans, which Dad always hid in his chili because he
couldn’t stand red beans. I chew, swallow, and take a sip of my milk,
completely satisfied with myself.

Donovan
seems to be sitting on pins and needles. “How’d it taste?”

“Perfect.”

He
appears relieved. The bell rings, and he says, “How about I walk you to your
next class? Maybe after school I can take you out for a real burger?”

I
put my hand on his chest to stop him from following me. “I know why you’re
here. I know why they sent you.” His eyes are confused. “They thought Rick
would make me happy, make me reveal where I hid the microchip, but when I
didn’t, when they saw how much I longed for you, they changed their plan. But
it’s not going to work, Donovan. I don’t want … this.”

“I
don’t know what you’re talking about. Are you on meds or something?” His eyes
are dark and angry.

However
they are controlling the images and what people say to me, somehow their real
feelings are leaking in, which means maybe my feelings can leak out. If my mind
believes this is real, maybe my body will too. I think of all those cheesy
movies Rick’s mom forced me to watch:

A
movie where a time traveler from the 1800s found a copper penny in his pocket,
from the 1970s. It broke the illusion and forced him back to his time period. I
also recall an old Star Trek episode where if one of them was killed in virtual
reality, they actually died because they believed in the fantasy.

Thinking
back, I remember how I pricked my finger, and for a brief moment, I was out of
the dream. That’s what I need to do. I need to hurt myself so badly they have
to take me off the machines, remove the needles, and ensure that I get medical
treatment.

I
leave Donovan and return to the bathroom. I check to make sure all the stalls
are empty, then wedge the bathroom door shut. I take my fist and smash the
mirror. It doesn’t break on the first try, so I keep going until it cracks. My
knuckles hurt and are bright red, but they aren’t bleeding yet.

On
the next hit, it shatters. My knuckles are gorged open, and I suck in my
breath. I cradle my hand and see I have a piece of glass stuck in the open
wound.

Instead
of pulling the glass shard out, I wiggle it around. The pain makes me scream,
which
 
does the job.

The
bathroom begins to fog up, and the next breath I take is with my real lungs.

The
real world hurts much worse than my gashed knuckle.

My
back arches, and I scream, eyes searching the room. I see ceiling tiles, and
then hands are on my arms, trying to still my movements. But I fight, every
muscle in my arm contracting.

People
all around tell me it’ll be okay, that everything will be fine, but I don’t
believe them. They want to destroy me.

My
arm comes free, and I scratch someone’s face. He screams and backs away. I try
to sit up but can’t. I flail, but my arms are pinned down. Nothing works.
There's no way out.

I
hear Rex. I glance up and see his smug face, stroking back my hair.

“Dear
Lara, you do know how to make things hard on yourself, don’t you?”

“You
said this would be easy,” says Patricia’s familiar voice. She steps close
enough for me to see her, arms crossed and face pinched in anger. “You said you
could break her.”

 
“Nothing worth doing is easy,” Rex says and
places a mask over my nose and mouth.

I
take a deep breath and notice that it smells stale. I do my best to wiggle
free, but I don’t know where I would go anyway. My mind blanks out again, but
instead of darkness, there is nothing.

An
absence of color. An absence of existing.

Just
nothing.

“Can
you hand me that streamer?”

Blinking,
my hands come into view. One is bandaged, and the other is holding a pink
streamer. I hand it to my father, who is balancing up high on a ladder. The
room is decorated all in pink. There are balloons, streamers, and a banner that
reads
Welcome our baby girl
! I don’t
know what’s going on. I remember being at school, at lunch, but after that,
nothing.

I
should be doing something else, something important, but what?

“Guests
will be arriving soon. Why don’t you go get the punch ready?” Dad says as he
hurries down the ladder. He moves it aside. “Hurry, Lara.”

My
head snaps, and I rush to the kitchen. I get the punch bowl out of the fridge
and look for cups and a ladle. After I set up the punch bowl on the table, the
doorbell rings. Guests are arriving. I welcome them and take their gifts.

Once
they all arrive, we dim the lights and quietly wait for Mom to arrive. She
doesn’t see us when she first comes in. I think she looks beautiful in her
simple sweater with her hair freshly styled from the salon.

I
turn the light on, and everyone jumps out and yells, “Surprise!” Horns are
tooted and confetti is thrown. Mom giggles and holds a hand to her chest. “Who
decided it’s a good idea to scare the pregnant woman?”

“It
was my idea,” I say and beam as she pulls me tight and hugs me. It’s great to
be so close to her.

“You
are my favorite, peanut,” she says and kisses the top of my head.

Dad
comes in and squeezes us both in a group hug.

“I
love group hugs,” I say and am so happy and content, I’m not sure if I want to
be anywhere else ever.

***

After
all the guests are gone, I take a phone call from Rick and then help Mom hang
the baby clothes on tiny hangers. The dresses are so beautiful, and the pajamas
are so soft. I can’t believe soon I will have a sister.

She
gives me a small smile. “You were that small once, it’s hard to believe.
Excited?”

 
“I always wanted someone to grow up with. I
promise I’ll always take care of her.”

She
sits down in the rocking chair with an uncomfortable expression on her face. “I
know you will. That’s what is so amazing about you. You care so much. I never
worry about your heart, Lara.”

I
put the rest of the baby clothes away, and for a moment, an image flashes in my
mind of a little girl’s locket. I rub my forehead.

“Are
you okay?” Mom asks.

“Yeah,
just a strange headache.”

Concern
flashes across her face. “Why don’t you go lay down, and I’ll bring you some
medicine.” She pushes herself awkwardly out of the rocking chair, while I go to
my room.

The
bed is comfortable, and my pillow is soft. On the nightstand, I see a photo of
my tenth birthday. It’s a group picture of me, Mom, Dad, and a host of
different kids that all were there for my party at the bowling alley.

I
smile at it and touch the glass, remembering this same photo. But in that
photo, it was me and Dad. Mom wasn’t around.

Because
Mom was dead.

Memories
and images from the last several days crush me like an oncoming freight train,
leaving me paralyzed. All I can do is be still, think, and process the fact
that the last few hours with my Mom, her friends, and our family was all make
believe. I must get out of here and find my real Mom and
Jax
.
So many people are worried about me, and let’s face it, I have no concept of
time. I don’t know if I’ve been Rex’s prisoner for hours, days, or even longer.

How
long has he been trying to extract the data from me? I have no more time to
lose.

I
tried cutting myself, but that didn’t quite get me the results I wanted. Now I
am going to have to try something more extreme. But what?

Mom
comes in and hands me two pills and a glass of water. “There, stay in here
until you feel better. Then we’ll make popcorn and put on a movie.”

Sounds
like a great idea, but it’s not one I can stick around for. She brushes my hair
away from my forehead to kiss me. I close my eyes and feel the pain of mourning
this reality, even though it’s only fictional. I wish I could stay here.

I
ignore the pills as I swing my legs over the side of my mattress and think. Of
all the things I could do to wake myself up, what would be severe enough that
they would need to move me, get me off the equipment, and give my body a
moment’s rest? My mind flashes back to the cafeteria menu of items I had to
choose from.

Honey.

I
walk past the bathroom where Mom is standing, clutching her belly. “John … Lara
… I think it’s time!”

She’s
only a hallucination, so I ignore her and march into the kitchen. I tear
through the cabinets until I find the ones with spices and sugar. I push
everything out of the way and smile as I grip the bottle of honey in my hand. I
study the cute little plastic bear and flip the cap open. I remember when I was
six and accidentally had honey, how painful it was. I swelled up, and my throat
closed in a matter of minutes.

“I
guess we had the baby shower just in time!” Dad says from the hall. “Lara get
your coat, we have to get to the hospital.”

Putting
the bottle to my mouth, I tilt my head back. I have no idea how much is too
much, but I gulp back at least a teaspoon, probably more. It tastes sweet,
delicious really, and traces of it stick to my tongue.

I
can’t draw breath, and my cheeks begin to puff up. I don’t even try to call out
to my parents, afraid they’ll have an
EpiPen
that will
end my reaction. My heart races as my throat swells up so much I can’t swallow
or even eke out a final scream.

The
world begins to turn grey, and soon a seizure will come. I fall to my knees as
I lose all sense of myself and balance.

“Lara!”
Dad screams and pulls me back into his arms as my body shakes.