The Temporal (16 page)

In an instant, her touch cleansed him from the evil thoughts he had heard; it made him forget that Cobbs had just been murdered or that the police may now be looking for them as suspect
s in that murder. He raised his dirtied hands to meet her face.

“
Suteko, you don’t know how... amazing it is to have met you. Don’t ever leave me. I’d be lost without you.”

She looked on Sam and
nearly laughed. His clothes were ragged; his face was discolored. But his eyes and words were utter seriousness. With her hands, she lovingly brushed the dirt, grime, and dried blood from his cheeks.

Sam was taken
aback by her beauty. Just like the first time he saw her, his heart beat a little faster and he felt funny—awkward and completely at ease all at once. Her long black hair crowned a perfectly proportioned face with gem-shaped eyes. He was sure he looked terrible, but he imagined she couldn’t look better had she just left a beauty salon.

“
You are so beautiful.”

She pulled away, blushing. He grabbed her hand and gently pulled her back to him.

“Suteko. I want to tell you...”

Sam s
topped when he saw her blush had given way to a pale look of horror.

“
We’re too late.”

“
What?”

Sam turned around, looking where she was pointing. The broken newspaper box that he had collided into was twisted and on its side. Even still, the
Los Angeles Times
front page headline was clearly in view.

MULTIPLE BOMBS YET TO BE DISCOVERED.

Sam and Suteko spent the rest of the day trying to learn more about McGregor. Finding him was their only hope for stopping the bombs and staying off the FBI’s ten most wanted list.

Sam felt stronger and more confident in his abilities, but without Cobbs, it seemed like the two of them were alone against the world. They didn
’t have access to law enforcement information, nor did they have a badge to get them into places or the authority to question people as part of an official investigation. Worse, Suteko was still wanted for immigration violations and Sam for assaulting a police officer. Without a champion within the system, they had little hope of clearing their names.

But they had a mandate
, and with that mandate, there were certain advantages.

They were
Temporal. They required little sleep, could move fast, and could listen to the echoes. That, and they had the old man.

The newspaper article had very little information other than a list of cities that matched Marcus
’ list. It also stated that the New Orleans bomb had gone off a day before it was supposed to—something they already knew but was potentially panic-inducing for the general public.

“
So what do we do next?” Sam’s face betrayed his confusion and despair.

“
We contact Marcus.”

Sam nodded in agreement before remembering he hadn
’t seen a phone anywhere during his stay in the old man’s apartment.

“
Does he have a cell? I didn’t see a phone, a computer, or for that matter, any technology from the last millennia.”

Suteko burst out in laughter. It was the first time Sam had seen her laugh
—really laugh. Her laughter previously had been controlled, politely covering her mouth with a dainty hand or handkerchief. It was a welcome relief after Cobbs’ tragic death.

“
What?”

“
No, no,” she said, still laughing. “The last time Marcus had any modern technology was in 1936 when I gave him a radio. I remember it well. It was an Emerson phonograph and radio combination unit. Brand new. It had a beautiful walnut finish and even a clock on the front. I paid $29.95 for it—back then, a handsome sum of money.”

“
So, how did that go—or should I ask?”

“
How do you think? He threw it out the window.”

The old man was even more eccentric than Sam thought.

“Wow. I’m not sure if I should laugh at that or say ‘I’m sorry.’”

“
You can do both. He does make an exception with combustion engines and anything that goes fast. In general, however, technology and Marcus do not mix. As for how to contact him, he has a ‘calling service.’ I call a friend of ours and that friend relays the message to Marcus.”

“
It would be far more efficient if he just had a phone like the rest of humanity.”

“
Of course, but then it would be too easy. Marcus very often already knows the message anyway. He prefers to let the echoes tell him.”

Suteko had the phone to her ear listening to it ring unanswered. After the fifth ring, she frowned.

“Unlike Marcus,” she said to Sam, “John carries his cell phone with him everywhere. He always seems to answer before the first ring.”

“
John Matthews—in Brooklyn...” Sam knew the name just as he knew all the Temporal names. He caught himself as he remembered the old man’s suggestion to not speak of his gift—not even to Suteko.

“
Yes, how did you know?”

But before Suteko could receive an answer to her question, the phone went into voicemail and she turned her full attention back to the phone call. Suteko left a short message to her
“Aunt Suzie” asking for a little cash to come home for Thanksgiving.

“
Now, we wait,” Suteko said after cutting off the call.

They spent the entire afternoon wandering the streets thinking about what to do and hoping for a call from the old man.

But no call came.

While they were still near McGregor
’s hometown, they decided to head to the San Francisco Public Library for a little local research.

At the library, they spent several hours searching online and going through old newspapers
hoping to find any information about McGregor. The principal had mentioned McGregor’s expertise in Arabic, but the few newspaper references to Professor McGregor of Coastway Community College had nothing to do with Arabic, Islam, or anything more interesting than being his school’s representative at a 1996 academic fair.

His name and location pulled up many hits online however. He may not have been surrounded by friends in real life, but he was active on the popular social media sites and his
YouTube channel had over a hundred videos—mostly of him issuing political screeds. Oddly, nothing he wrote or spoke about referenced Arabic or Islam, supposedly his main focus according to the school president.

“
Sam, it could be because I’m using a cell.”

Suteko
’s voice pulled his attention away from the library computer.

“
What?”

“
I just realized John may not have answered or called back because I’m using a cell. I’m sure it is clean, but John might know about our legal... difficulties and may not want to take a chance. I’ll go find a pay phone—we have to get in touch with the old man.”

“
All right. I’ll be here reading this paper a young college student by the name of Todd McGregor wrote on the inherent racism within the US judicial system. If it is like his other stuff, it will be both fascinating and grammatically challenged.”

Sam didn
’t think twice about her leaving. He was, after all, in a large public place and at only seven in the evening, it was still filled with people. His confidence in his abilities also meant a reduced dependence on Suteko for protection and guidance.

A few minutes later, Suteko returned.

“
Samuel—We need to leave.”

Sam looked up to see a frantic looking Suteko. She was holding a travel atlas.

“It isn’t safe here,” she said while gently nudging Sam off his chair and toward the stairs leading to the first floor and the entrance of the library. “I think there is something here.”

“
Yes,” said Sam, suddenly worried. “I don’t know why I didn’t sense it before, but one of the Nephloc is near—very near... But how did you…”

“
No time. Here, take this.” She handed him the atlas as they rounded the corner to the stairs. “The old man needs a list of all the Temporal in the western hemisphere. Open the atlas to the bookmark.”

Opening the book, he saw a two page spread of the continental United States and portions of Canada and Mexico. He stopped at the top of the stairs.

“Wait. Suteko, something is wrong. Let’s think this through while we are still in a public place. If the Nephloc are here, they won’t expose themselves to so many people and something just doesn’t feel right. The old man knows of all the Temporal in the United States.”

“
All I know is what he said, but maybe you are right about staying. Let’s go back upstairs and find a quiet and unused table for privacy. Just tell me where they are.”

Sam nodded. They headed back upstairs and took the first right
, barreling down a row of bookcases that dead-ended with a small table and two chairs. Sitting down, he looked at the map. Soon, his eyes began to play tricks on him—or so it seemed. The letters under the dots were dancing; the colors brightened and then faded like an old or dying television. Then a tunnel began to form from the corners of his eyes, shrinking inward. It created a circle with the epicenter meeting his focus. The tunnel continued to become smaller until the circle of clarity in the middle was just a pinhole.

Then he saw it.

Names, faces, numbers, and minute details flew into Sam’s mind. It wasn’t like seeing a photograph or reading words, but somehow, the fading and brightening colors conveyed information directly to Sam’s brain, bypassing language altogether. He wasn’t reading and then understanding through a two-stage process; he was knowing directly.

“
There are six living in the States. Of course, there’s Marcus and John Matthews in Brooklyn. Peter Knowlings, Houston, Texas; Sarah Evans, Tampa, Florida; Thomas…”

Sam pulled his eyes away and closed the book.

“Wait! Something isn’t right.”

“
Of course not. You said so yourself—there is a Nephloc around. Now, get back to work!”

“
Wait… It isn’t just any Nephloc. This is the one who attacked me in New York—this is the one who planted the bomb that killed Cobbs—we should go downstairs in the open among the people.”

“
Good. Your senses have become more attuned. But we stay here. Work!”

Sam suddenly realized Suteko knew of his gift. Marcus wouldn
’t have told her, would he?

“
How did you know I had this ability?”

“
The old man told me.”

“
But you were gone no more than two minutes. Could you have found a pay phone and gotten him in two minutes?”

“
I am fast and the old man was expecting me...”

“
No.”

Sam knew something was wrong. The old man specifically told him to tell no one about his talent—not even Suteko. He began to stand and move away from this woman. The woman who had attacked him in New York—
She could change her appearance.

Then he realized the painful truth.

Sam looked to the stairs and made a break for it.

She anticipated his move and grabbed his shoulders, stopping him. Pushing down, she prevented his knees from locking in a standing position. He fell into a chair so hard, it almost shattered.

The way she gripped his shoulders rendered his arms useless. She was powerful. Even with Sam’s increased strength and abilities, he had no choice but to obey. He clenched his teeth to prevent a cry of pain from slipping out. His arms flopped uselessly at his sides.

“
What is your name?” Sam asked between grunts and heavy breaths. He needed to know his enemy. He began memorizing her signature, the information her presence somehow gave off and Sam could sense.
He was absolutely sure that the creature behind him was the same who had killed Cobbs and had attacked him in New York City. Kaileen, Marcus had called her.

“
Continue.” Her grip relaxed but she did not remove her hands from his shoulders entirely.

“
No.”

The intensity of her grip returned. Sam
’s body went limp. One of her hands wrapped around his neck, slowly squeezing. “Tell me more names,” her voice said in a loud whisper. “The list is not complete!” She placed several fingers on Sam’s forehead. His mind began to swirl. He felt his thoughts accessed and manipulated by someone other than himself.

Then came another voice from the end of the bookcase.

“Sam?” It was Suteko, the real Suteko. Not caring for library protocol, she raised her voice. “Sam!”

The woman
in front of Sam released her masking energy. Her long, black hair became, in an instant, curls of bright red. Asian eyes enlarged and turned nearly as red as her hair. The enemy jerked her right hand, releasing a flash of metal from within the cuffs of her jacket. The blade, once firmly in place between her thumb and two fingers, flew from her hand with the slightest flick of her wrist.

Suteko managed to slow time enough to see and anticipate the flying metal
’s path. She took a book from the shelf and positioned it to catch the flying object. The knife bored into the book until its sharp point pierced the back cardboard and leather cover and stopped. She tossed the book aside and was in front of her enemy before the book hit the ground.

The red-headed woman attacked first. Her right hand rebounded from flinging the knife and was instantly swinging back toward Suteko
’s face. Tightening her fingers into a fist, the creature’s attack became a powerful backhand.

Suteko saw the direction of the incoming backhand. With her arm, Suteko blocked the woman
’s attack and, after slowing the blow, she slid her hand down to the red-headed woman’s wrist.

Grabbing the attacker
’s wrist with both of her hands, Suteko twisted with all the strength she could muster. She knew that controlling the wrist yields control of the body. With a push downward, Suteko would have the woman on her knees and under her control as long as she continued with her fleshy body.

The red-headed woman
must have realized her wrist was in a compromising position. She screamed loud enough for Suteko to feel the force being expelled from her mouth. The distraction was enough for the woman to free her hand. She pushed off her legs and leaped into the air, flying above Suteko’s head and kicking off the metal rods of the ceiling. Large squares of ceiling tiles fell on Sam and Suteko as she made her escape.