Time Storm Shockwave (5 page)

“I
f you want”—he grinned—“I can get out and push.”

“You
really aren’t scared at all—” she stared at him “—are you?”

“
No—” he paused “—I guess I haven’t felt as if I have had anything to lose for a long time.”

“You said before
—” she hesitated “—that you had kids, past tense. What happened?”

He genuinely didn’t want to talk about it, but he answered anyway, “I had two
boys”—he looked away—“twins. Our dog ran out onto a frozen lake. The boys ran after it.”

“I tried to stop them
—” his voice broke slightly, and he waited for control before continuing “—but I couldn’t get them out when the ice broke. There was a current in the water and …,” his voice trailed off. There was no need to finish.

“I’m so sorry.
I didn’t mean to bring up such a painful subject. I didn’t know. I thought—” she shrugged “—you meant they were with your ex-wife or something.”

“Our marriage fell apart after that.
We just couldn’t”—he shook his head—“stop blaming ourselves and each other.”

“That’s
why”—she asked hesitantly—“you wanted the sea to take you, some kind of atonement for what happened?”

“
I guess so …I’m going up there”—he stood up—“do you want to come with me or not?”

“I guess I’m coming.
I don’t want to stay here”—she shuddered—“alone.”

They went up to the flybridge. It was much easier to find their way with the
odd greenish glow of the mist surrounding them.

“
Look”—he pointed at the water—“the boat is definitely spinning, albeit slowly.”

“Thank goodness,” she said.

He shot her a confused glance.

“
I was worried that I”—she grinned—“was just crazy.”

The
y both laughed at that, and then just as light began to appear from the east and the green mist vanished. The power came back on. Everything appeared to be normal except that the sun was rising. They both stared at the sunrise, confused. It was evening, or it was supposed to be. The sun had just set when the clouds had come. It could not have been more than a half hour, and yet it appeared to be morning.

She
studied her watch. It was flashing from being powered off. “Mark?”

Seeing her expression, he looked at his watch
. While it was digital, and flashing like hers, it also had a 24-hour mechanical dial. His eyebrows lifted when he saw the time. Sunset had been about 6:30 pm., so it had been fully dark at about 7:00, about the time the power went off.

“Look at this.”
He sounded as if he were a kid in a candy store. The hands were pointing at 1932 military time, or 7:32 pm.

She stared at the dial for longer than necessary then looked at him, exasperated. “But it’s
clearly morning …How can this be …?” she drifted off.

Clearly having more fun than she was, h
e just shrugged but could not wipe the smile from his face.

“Well, it is theoretically possible to create faster than light travel safely. If you could produce an anti-mass area with exotic particles repelling
—” he paused and admitted “—I don’t have any ideas actually.”

“At least I understood your last sentence.”
She cocked her head and smiled.

He thought for a few moments and then said,
“Quantum physics definitely predicts the existence of natural occurrences that could bend space-time.”

“You mean like a black hole
—” her expression was doubtful “—wouldn’t that kill us?”

“Well a black hole
would for sure”—he nodded—“but a wormhole might not.”

“I thought those were only
science fiction.”

He was staring at nothing, and then regarded her seriously. “Science fiction i
s often based on scientific theory; much of that turns out to be scientific fact.”

S
he focused on him thoughtfully, and then opened her mouth to speak, but instead looked down, memory shadowing her face. She shut her mouth and met his eyes.

“The existence of exotic particles
in theory could create a barrier, which might balance out the tremendous forces of a wormhole, and maybe create a safe opening”—he shrugged—“regardless of how it happened, we did somehow travel through time, right?”

He waited for an answer. “I guess, but
—” she shook her head “—I don’t know."

“You know what this means?
—” Apparently the question was rhetorical “—if time travel is possible, so is space travel.” His whole body seemed animated.

She raised one eyebrow as if to say
—
duh, we have astronauts you know
—but no words came out of her mouth.

Seeing her confusion, he wrinkled his forehead then shook his head. He was trying to explain what he meant, but it wasn’t coming out right.

“I mean space-time—” he watched for understanding “—as in relativity. We moved through time without moving through space, so the converse must also be possible. This means, we could move through space without moving through time.”

She considered that. “I guess that would be the case, though it seems more likely that we just had too much to drink.”

“We didn’t drink anything.” He was confused and then realized that she was joking.

“I know we didn’t. Even so, it makes more sense to me that we did and just forgot about it.” She smiled, looking drained from the sheer confluence of disconcerting information.

“One thing’s for sure.”

“What’s that?” She asked hopefully.

“I didn’t get enough sleep.”

“Well I hope you don’t expect breakfast anytime
soon”—she rolled her eyes—“I’m going to bed.” She rubbed her forehead hard as if it hurt.

“You do that, I’m going to mark this spot.”

He studied his GPS, wrote down the latitude and longitude on two different papers, and then handed her one of them.

“Why would I want this?
—” She stared at him blankly “—I wouldn’t ever want to come back here.”

“What?
—” He cocked his head “—we have to explore it. What do you think I’m doing out here in the first place?”

Dubiously, she eyed the little piece of paper
and then took it.

“Hey, if nothing else, you will be able to tell people where you were when that crazy thing happened, right?”

She gave him a half smile. “I guess so.” She put the GPS address into her pocket.

“I want to go get Stewart. It will only take a few hours.”

“You really like him don’t you?” she asked somberly.

“I guess
—” he hesitated “—I think of him kind of like the brother I never had. Don’t tell him I said that, it sounds sappy.”

She walked closer, put her arms around his neck, and smiled at him.
He leaned down, kissed her, and then she told him, “Goodnight, wake me up when we get there. I’m just going to lie down on the sofa in the pilothouse.”

“Why there
?—” he asked “—surely your bed is more comfortable.

“I
don’t
want to be that far away”—she winked—“from you.”

He smiled and let out a barely audible laugh
. He then pulled her closer to him and moved his lips gently over her mouth.

Her response made him think twice about going back to Bimini right then, but after a while, he loosened his arms from her
; letting go felt almost painful. She smiled and went down the stairs reluctantly. He mulled over the idea of sleeping, but he knew he wouldn‘t be able to. He felt too elated.

***

When they arrived at Bimini Island, Mark woke
Ashlyn as he promised.

“I spoke to the guy at the harbor office; he told me where Stewart was staying. I’m going to get him.”

“Wait”—she looked a little dazed and blinked a few times—“I’ll come with you. My sleep schedule is all screwed up anyway.”

“Yeah, I think I’m just going to force myself to stay awake until nighttime comes again
—” he laughed “—and hope that this time it lasts for a few hours.”

He eyed her with a mischievous smile, and she raised one eyebrow slightly, “You really had fun didn’t you?”

He beamed like a child. “Let’s go.”

They had to stop several places before they found where
Stewart had been staying. When they asked the manager which room he was in, he pointed across a sandy beach area without ever looking up from his magazine.

Mark
waited until they were out of earshot before speaking, “He’s not the kind of guy I would want to have working for me.”

“No
kidding”—she agreed—“not much for security either.”

He knocked on the door, but there was no response.
He knocked again, harder.

“Maybe he went to lunch
—” she studied the sun “—at least I’m guessing that it’s lunchtime.”

He didn’t comment;
he couldn’t wait to tell Stewart what had happened. When Mark turned the door handle, it opened easily.

His brow furrowed, “I guess he needs to learn
a thing or two about personal security.”

“
Apparently”—an odd expression crossed her face—“especially with a manager like that guy.”

When Mark opened the door, it was clear that Stewart was no longer there. The room had been torn apart. The drawers were pulled out onto the floor, their contents dumped
. The room had clearly been tossed.

Mark
clinched his jaw and took a deep breath, “Wherever he is, he didn’t go willingly.”

Chapter 5

Scientific research consists in seeing what everyone else has seen, but thinking what no one else has thought.
— Unknown Source

~

Mark and Ashlyn checked everywhere
on the island that they could think of, but nobody seemed to know anything. Finally, they picked up supplies, and then went back to the boat.

“I should never have left him,
” he lamented as he sat on one of the steps that led up to the aft deck. He put his head in his hands.

She
didn’t say anything, but she stood next to him and put her hand on his shoulder.

“Do you think somebody hurt him
?—” His expression was tortured “—I can’t imagine that he had any enemies.”

“I don’t
know”—she looked worried—“Mark, I’m really sorry I suggested we leave him.”

“You co
uldn’t have known,” he said quietly.

She looked as if she were about to say something, but a boy, who was running down the dock called out to him, “Wait mister, I’m supposed to give you this.”

He handed Mark a note and then left quickly.

“What is it?”
she asked.

He
studied it, and then after a long moment he answered, “It’s a note from Stewart, and I’m sure it’s his handwriting. He says he was really angry and decided to go home, but …,” he hesitated.

“What is it?”
she asked.

“Do you think that he was
really mad enough to trash his room like that? It doesn’t seem like him at all”—he looked away—“though he has been acting strangely lately.”

“I’m sorry—” she shrugged “—
maybe I can get him to come back.”

“No, it should be me
—” he stared down at his hands “—I’ll give him some time to cool off …Scratch that, I’ll send him a letter, and then give him some time to cool off, but I’ve got to get out of here.”

She nodded and followed him up to the pilothouse
.

“I don’t know what I should
say,” he stated dolefully.

“I’m sorry might help,
” she suggested.

“Yeah
—” he drummed his pencil for a moment “—I don’t know what else to do.”

He wrote,
I’m sorry; I have been acting like a jerk. Please come back.
He signed it, and then he put it in an envelope. He found the address, neatly penned it, and then pasted on the postage.

“I’ll take that and mail it
for you if you would like. I need to get something before we leave anyway.”

He peered up at her gratefully. “I’m glad you are here.”

“I am too,” she said. She leaned over and kissed him softly, and then left with the letter.

He was falling in love with her, but he wished so much that he had handled things differently
with his best friend. He hadn’t realized how much he cared until now.

She had only been gone for about thirty minutes
when he heard her voice.

“Mark?”

“Up here—” he answered in surprise, and met her halfway down the stairs “—that was quick, did you run?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact, I did.” She smiled.

He noticed that she was wearing different clothing. He felt like an oaf. That must have been why she had needed to go into town. He should have known; she hadn’t had many things with her, and she was almost broke. He kicked himself for not having been more thoughtful and wished he had taken her shopping.

***

Stewart sat in the corner of a dark room. His face was blood
ied and bruised from being beaten. Initially he had only been threatened. The two thugs who had kidnapped him had ordered him to tell them where Mark was, but Stewart had no way of knowing. All he knew was that when he went back to the boat it was gone.

His
captors didn’t believe him. Why in the world they wanted Mark, Stewart couldn’t imagine. However, this afternoon, he had seen Ashlyn talking to them, and a picture began to form. He had assumed that she had only wanted him for his money. Now he doubted it was anything so innocuous.

His first thought was that she
had been in hiding, and capturing her was the reason they wanted Mark, but then Stewart had seen her talking to the thugs. There was clearly no animosity between them. In fact, it was evident that they were taking orders from her. She had walked into the room where he was being held, and just stared at him. Then she shook her head and walked out.

He heard her say, “He’s useless, get rid of him.”

The big guy, the one who had beaten him, walked in. His name was Justin. He was about six-foot-one with the body of a weight lifter. The other man had left with her, so it was just the two of them. Stewart braced himself and prayed for a quick death.

Justin’s phone rang
and he listened for a few minutes before hanging up, and then he said, “I’ll be back, don’t go anywhere, or I will make you pay.”

“
Right”—Stewart said aloud—“as if I could go anywhere if I wanted to.” It wasn’t as if he hadn’t tried it before. He had yelled, screamed, banged on the locked doors, and even on the barred windows. There was simply no point.

The building was off by itself between some palm trees. Maybe it was the local jail. He sat there considering his future. What should he do with the last moments of his life? He wasn’t close to his parents, and he hadn’t talked to his brother in years.

Ironically, it was Mark that Stewart wanted to talk to, in spite of the recent turmoil in their relationship. He wished he had never walked away angrily, though obviously, he had been right about Ashlyn, and now he was even more worried for Mark than he had been before.

Stewart was alone for far longer than he had expected, maybe
an hour. He heard a noise outside that he couldn’t identify, then a moment later Ashlyn walked into the room—
oh great
,
my favorite person.

She stared at him for a moment, furrowed her brow, and said, “I’ll be right back.”

He had waited another twenty or thirty minutes—
if they are really going to kill me, I wish they would just get on with it
—this in and out nonsense was making his anxiety unbearable.

She walked in, sounding agitated, “Come on, we’ve got to go quickly.”

He stood up and sarcastically retorted, “What, you want me to go somewhere else before you kill me? I guess then you won’t have to drag my body so far, but then Justin could do it, couldn’t he?”

Ashlyn shook her head. “Stewart, I’m not going to hurt you. I’m sorry I got you involved in this.”

“What do you mean?—” He gaped at her “—you just told them to get rid of me a couple of hours ago.”

“That wasn’t me.”

He was ready to spit out a venomous comment to anything she said, but he didn’t expect that. “What, you were just having a bad hair day when you told them to kill me, or maybe it was PMS, and now you feel better?”

“
No”—she spoke forcefully—“I mean that was not me.”

He didn’t say anything for a minute, and then he asked, “What, like an evil twin thing?”

“It’s something like that.” 

“Are you serious?
What is her name?”

“I’m dead serious, but we have
got to go now before they find …well, I’m not sure of his name, the big guy with black curly hair.”

“Justin?”

“I guess, come on.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

She stared at him, blankly; a preoccupied expression blanketed her face.

“What is her
name?” Stewart demanded.

Recognition hit
. “Dierdra—” Ashlyn shook her head in apology “—I’m sorry, I’m just worried, let’s go.”

They left the small building, and she ordered, “Help me get him in there.”

Justin was face down in the sand, blood oozing from his head.

Stewart gawked at
her, “Did you do that?”

She glanced down at
the body on the ground and then back at him, “Yeah.”

Great, just when I felt safe
. “How did you…?” He motioned with his eyes.

She didn’t answer. They
dragged the body into the building and locked the door.

She
prodded him, “Let’s go, we’ve got to hurry.”

Stewart
was still brooding over the six-foot corpse, and tried to imagine how long it would be until someone found it. Sound might not carry on the island, but he bet the smell would soon enough.

“How long
does it take for a body to start smelling?” he asked.

She glared back at
him. “How should I know?”

“Well, I get the impression that he isn’t the first person you’ve killed.”

She didn’t say anything, just turned away and headed off across the island. He followed behind her.

After a few minutes
, he asked, “Where are we going anyway?”

“We have to get a boat somewhere and get off this island
—” she gave him a grave look “—Dierdra is with Mark.”

Stewart’s
face went a little white underneath the black and blue. He had stopped dead in his tracks. “Does he know she’s not you?”

Ashlyn
considered the question. “No.”

“Oh man, this is bad.” Then he asked her uneasily, “Why are you so sure he doesn’t? Maybe she told him. Maybe she killed him?”

“No, she is pretending to be me, I’m sure of that.”

“Why?”

“Because that’s what I would do.”

***

Mark was in the pilothouse. In
tensely focused and frustrated as he headed back to the place they had been the night before. It was getting dark, but they were nearly there. In the morning, he would dive into his work, literally, and see if it made him feel better.

Dierdra
walked up behind him. “Are you planning on anchoring for the night sometime? You look like a man possessed.”

He studied her face. “Why do you suddenly not care
?—” He stood up “—you know how upset I am about Stewart.”

She shook her head dismissively, “He’s
fine. What do you need with him anyway?”

Mark
couldn’t believe his ears; it was as if she were a different person. He glared at her. She didn’t seem to notice or care. He hadn’t slept in forty-eight hours or however many hours it had been. He knew that she hadn’t slept much either, maybe that was the problem.

He didn’t look back at her when he spoke, “Go
ahead, and go to bed. I will be dropping anchor soon enough.”

“Okay, goodnight.”

A little less affectionate tonight, I guess.
He gazed unseeing out the darkened window in front of him. Maybe, just maybe, Stewart had been right about her. Mark was tired and hoped things would be better in the morning.

***

Ashlyn had acquired a small motor boat somehow, and they were headed out. It was already dark and Stewart, even nervous on a big yacht, was
having difficulty keeping his anxiety under control. She hadn’t said much of anything to him, and it seemed that his questions just irritated her.

“Where are we going to sleep?”

She gaped at him. “Where do you think? In the cabin, I know the beds are small and you are used to traveling in style, but I really didn’t have a lot of choices.”

“I was hoping we wou
ld dock somewhere for the night,” he suggested hopefully.

She
rolled her eyes at him. “Where do you think we could do that? Mark’s life is in danger. We don’t have time waste going out of our way for a dock.”

He didn’t know where they were going—
how was I supposed to know there was no place to dock?
—he still disliked her, in spite of the daring rescue. After all, wasn’t it her fault that he had been stuck there on that island in the first place? He had to admit to himself that it wasn’t entirely true, but right now, he felt like being angry.

In spite of the urgency, she slowed the boat, exhausted.
When she had it settled, she headed down to the tiny cabin she would be sharing with Stewart. The cabin was quite pathetic in comparison to the yacht, but at least the boat was a little faster.

He
glanced up at her when she came in. “Why don’t you just call him? He has that satellite phone on the boat that he never uses.”

She studied her hands before looking at him. “I tried. I’m sure
Dierdra would have disabled any communications on the ship first thing.”

“How do you know?”

She answered matter-of-factly, “That’s what I would do.”