The air escaped from my lungs with a "whooooosh" the impact of the cement rattling my teeth. I blink in the sudden sunlight. The light burning my eyes. I try to get up, I feel a metal tube pressing into my low back. "What the...," I fumble to pull it from under me. All my joints, muscles, and bones complaining. I'm sure I'll find out I broke something falling from the plane. Or was I pushed? I lay there with the metal tube clenched in my shaking hands. "It's cold and I'm laying in a puddle. I need to get up," I say aloud. My life time strategy, talking to myself so I'm not too alone. Now of course, it reminds me I have to have jumped from the plane. Because I was alone, wasn't I? I pull myself slowly to my feet. My knees pop when I stand up fully and I almost fall again because of it. I shiver, it's cold in this place in winter. When I took the task of fixing the future so man kind wouldn't die, I learned about airplanes and the words "cold" and "hot". However, I didn't learn how to blend in or what these "states" were named.
View of Quincy "She better not fuck this up," I mutter my big hands flat on my desk. The monitor shows a girl with long chocolate hair wandering around in a forest. The screen next to it shows her thoughts. Where am I? Is this the town? Where's the people? What happened on the plane? I'm alone aren't I? I grimace at the last one. Drugging the finest Resetter then sending her out a plane plunging towards trees, not my best decision. I spin my chair around to my desk. There's a hologram of Zoe with her dark hair, striking features and petite frame. A paper lays next to it. My secretary's neat script covers it. •She needs to think she's alone •She needs to find Winston •She needs to warn Winston •She needs to die before the apocalypse I snap my pen in half, the red ink splattering over me like blood. I decided who to send on this mission. But I didn't know death was the ending. If I knew that, I would've send Jay-C. I could stand losing him. Tall, lanky, and sly; not what I need right now.
Jay-C It's cold out, I'm in a bench alone. For once in my short lived life, I am a l o n e. And it's horrible. No one is even roaming the streets at this hour. Winston told me to come, I skipped a date, he better show up. I hear the sound of heavy steps trying to step quietly, but the weight it's carrying is to great. The shadow of a short, pudgy man is under the street light. "Jay, is that you," Winston whispers, his voice husky and heavy from the extortion it took to walk a whopping six blocks. "No, it is the friendly neighbour hood hobo who DIDN'T miss his date with the wonderful Marisa," I grumble rubbing my cold arms as he waddles over. "Well you are going on a mission. The "wonderful Marisa" will have to wait. You're gonna go replace Zoe on her mission," he says gruffly. I nod, all business. I'm not screwing with time travel for fun. In fact, it hurts like hell when you skip around. Headaches, confusion, loss of memory...
What was in the metal tube [/i] Dear Zoe, My name is Chaz, I pushed you out of the plane. You're in the year 2011 and need to find a boy named Winston. He will invent a cure for cancer in fifteen years. Sadly, it's the wrong cure. Every child born after this will die before their forty. This is why he needs stopped. Look for 124 Lovebird Ln. You're staying there with a local agent and his family. You've been enrolled in tenth grade. You're name is Melody. You ride horses and are from Crater Lake in Wyoming. Be careful, Chaz[/i] I sit on the park bench, this letter in my pale hands. What the hell is going on? My memory has come back slowly. But... Why am I stopping a twelve year old boy? The last I remember I was on probation for getting caught in Venice, Italy with a waffle. Something that won't be invented for four years.
View of Chaz "N-no! Stop. Owh," the man hits me again. My back feels on fire. "Then tell me where the girl is staying," he demands, twisting my arm behind my back at an awkward angle. "Which girl? 'Cuz if you're talking about your mother she's at home nursing her gen-," I'm cut off by a blow to the throat. I skid across the stones on my tattered back. The pain making me black out. View of Zoe I stand on my toes waiting patiently on the front stoop of the door I just knocked on. I bounce nervously on my heels. The door swings open and a kind faced man with chocolate eyes ushers me in. "You must be Zoe," he says with a soft voice. He seems kind. "Yes, I don't understand why I'm here exactly." He nods. "We can talk later, for now you need to meet my family and get situated. I'll explain everything here, you haven't traveled to this year before have you?" "No. Well I don't think so! I can't remember much still." "That's to be expected. Wait here, I am gonna go get the boys," he turns around and yells up the stairs. "Steve! Dylan! Ross! Chaz! Come here!" There's a chorus of "Yes dad"'s and three boys of varying ages run down the stairs. The youngest looks about ten with grey, serious eyes and olive skin. The other two look to be my age and are identical with black locks and green eyes. "Where's Chaz," the man asks. My face goes as white as the boys in front of me.