Joel Adrian - A Shattered Future

“To complete the mission.”

“Yes, sir.”

Bravon coughed. He raised his fist to his mouth, and it came away with a light spray of blood. “Damn.” He turned to her, his eyes hit with pangs of fear. “Where are we?”

She pointed at Joey. “Joey was carrying you. We’re going back to the mountain. We’re just securing the Requiem gem and waiting for them to come back.”

“So what’s the problem?” he asked, puzzled.

Emersyn bit her lip. The one part of her job at Atriarch that she always hated was delivering bad news to customers over the phone. She always tried to sugarcoat it, to make it sound less bad than it was. She knew she couldn’t do that to the Sarge.

“He dropped you and broke his wrist,” she said as fast as she could.

“He dropped me and broke his wrist,” Bravon repeated. Suddenly a smile overcame his face, and he chuckled. “Damn if that ain’t some bad luck.”

Emersyn put a hand on his shoulder. “Listen, we found a road. I’m just waiting for someone to pass through. I’ll flag them down, we’re going to get you some help.”

“No, no,” Bravon said. He reached a hand back, gripping the tree. “I’m old, and I’m not as much of a soldier as I used to be, but to hell with dying here.” He forced himself up, his legs shaking.

Emersyn watched, shocked and awed. “Sir, sir, please sit, you’re—”

He held a shaking finger up to her. “Private, just shut the hell up.” He groaned, his hand clutching his wound. He surveyed the area and looked towards the mountain they were heading for. “Alright, let’s get this trek over with. If that pool’s still there, I could use a nice, long bath.”

Joey stood, still clutching his broken wrist. Emersyn motioned for him to join her, and the three convened roadside. Bravon pulled his live pistol from its holster and handed it to Emersyn. “There,” he said, “those are live rounds. Don’t point and shoot at anything that isn’t attacking us.”

The gun felt foreign in her hands. It was heavier than she pictured.

“I’ll lead,” she said, though the words tasted strange in her mouth. She started across the road, looking both ways once final time.

With no vehicle in sight, they continued towards the mountain.

An hour later, and they were nearing the mountain. Emersyn felt like something, or someone was watching them.

She couldn’t explain it, but she swore she could see darts and flashes of color out of the corner of her eyes. Neither Joey nor Bravon said anything, but she reasoned with herself that they were both wounded and probably not paying the fullest of attention.

She stepped over a large stone and carried on through the hot, humid forest leading to the base of the mountain.

The gun made Emerysn feel more secure. She could fend off an attacker or an animal. But she was more concerned with whom, or what could be stalking them.

Pushing past a large bush and holding it for the others to follow through, she looked out behind them. There was nothing but more forest. Maybe her eyes were playing tricks on her. She hadn’t got any sleep last night, and now delirium and exhaustion were setting in and manifesting themselves. That must be it , she told herself.

The fresh scent of pine grew stronger and stronger the deeper into the forest they got. A squirrel scurried across her path, and she used it to fuel the flame that was her doubt. Maybe it was real , she reasoned, and it was just a big squirrel.

Bravon coughed behind her. She heard him groan and wipe more blood onto his uniform. Emersyn would never let it show, but she was worrying more and more about the old man. He’d seemed so defiant and unwilling to die when he forced himself to stand and walk with them, but the bravado was failing.

He was hurt. She knew it was severe. Without medical attention soon, he wasn’t going to make it.

Emersyn halted when she saw a man standing in a clearing just before her.

She rubbed at her eyes and tried to wake her brain up, but the image stayed. She turned to Joey and Bravon, and they both stopped as well. He’s real, she realized, swallowing hard.

The man had tan skin and looked Russian in appearance. He had a goatee growing in around his mouth and dark eyes sunk in on his face. His hair was messily strewn about his head. He wore a tight, long-sleeve shirt with the emblem of an hourglass on it.

In his right hand, he held a pistol.

“Who are you?” Bravon called, but his voice was weak.

The Russian man took a step towards them, and then another. Emersyn tightened her grip on the gun. She wanted to raise it to him, to order him not to move, but she couldn’t. The willpower wasn’t there.

“Get that gun up,” Bravon managed under his breath.

“Come on, kid,” Joey urged her.

The Russian man stopped about ten feet from them. “No harm will come if you comply,” he said, his thick Russian accent and deep voice making him difficult to understand. “You’re in the wrong time, friends. I’m here to fix that.”

Joey grimaced. “That’s okay, you go on, now. Get the hell out of here.”

Emersyn’s mouth was sewn shut. She should be speaking, negotiating, persuading. But the fear had a hold on her heart and a gun at her head. She couldn’t force anything. It was as if she was frozen solid.

“You’re breaking Time Regulation, and I’m here to correct it.” He pulled the hammer down on his pistol. “You comply, we all walk away.”

Bravon steadied himself. “Get out of our way.”

The Russian man looked to each of them. “Last time I’m asking. International Time Regulation Law. Come with me.”

Joey grunted. Emersyn could tell the big man had enough, and even if she wanted to stop what happened next, she couldn’t.

He swung his fist out and struck the Russian man in the face.

Joey moved to secure the Russian man, but he vanished before their very eyes.

“What in God’s name…” Joey turned back to the rest of the group, looking for some sort of validation. His eyes were streaked with horror.

Bravon took a step forward, sticking a hand out to where the man’s body had been. There was nothing there.

Emersyn eased back, still clutching the pistol. Grounding herself wasn’t working. She could feel the sanity slipping from her. She’d just started to get her head around the time travel and what their mission was, and now everything took a nasty turn with a man vanishing in front of her.

“You saw that, right girl?” Joey turned his head toward Emersyn.

She managed a small nod. “Y-yeah.”

They heard a nearby ‘whoosh’, and the same Russian man appeared off to the side. He tackled Bravon Pearson from behind, sending the wounded Sergeant crashing to the ground with a cry.

“Hey!” Joey shouted, turning and grabbing the man with a thick hand.

The Russian brought a hand up and clutched at Joey’s broken wrist. The obese man howled in pain. The Russian turned and spun, hitting Joey in the face with a roundhouse kick.

Emersyn felt like an observer. All she was doing was watching this man beat her friends. She didn’t see his gun, but she knew he was armed. You’ve got to do something , her conscious told her. Now !

She swallowed the dread that was building in her throat and charged forward, defiant in the face of her worry and anxiety. Every step filled her with fear, like a thousand voices shouting “No!” inside her. But she pushed on.

She raised the gun, The Russian man had his back to her, she couldn’t waste having the advantage. She cocked the hammer, the weapon feeling heavy in her two hands. Her aim was off with the shakiness of her hands, but she fired three shots as quickly as she could.