Time Chaser

A short story based on a prompt another writer and I came up with. The prompt was "A man in a time proof bunker can send things back in time and change the time line." This is my take on the prompt.

The heavy curtains were pulled shut. The small studio apartment was lit by a single lamp on a solitary desk. The loose papers that covered the desk were held down by a laptop computer which played 24/7 Live News. The wall above the desk was stuck with more pins than a pin cushion holding up an excessive amount of papers. All the papers were different hand-written accounts of news articles from the last few years, red yarn connected events that happened simultaneously. William stood behind the desk, one arm across his chest the other rubbing the stubble on his chin as he studied the papers on the wall. He had a theory about what was happening but so far couldn’t prove it.

He picked a piece of paper off the desk and was looking for the right place to add it to the wall when things began to shift. Knowing what was happening, he braced himself for the onslaught of new memories that were about to overwhelm his mind. It brought him to his knees. Sharp stabbing pains bombarded his temples as new memories played like a motion picture in his mind. Saw the faces of the people who tormented him as a boy change. He saw his father holding his crying mother as he was taken away to a mental health facility. One by one events from the previous time line faded away and new events took their place. It was always worse when the changes took place within William’s life span. He noticed that if something changed before he was born it wasn’t nearly as painful.

After the pain subsided William stood eager to see the changes to his reality. One of the news anchors on the computer screen was different but William didn’t notice that. Instead he turned up the volume just in time to hear the end of the anchors story. Ten thousand dead from an unknown virus sweeping through the country. Once again, the pain hit him and again he found himself on his knees. After a few moments he stood and watched the news again. This time he was reading the text scrolling across the bottom of the screen, scientist finds cure to what could have been the worst outbreak in history.

The changes seemed to happening more often and closer together. William was scrambling for a piece of paper and quickly wrote out all the changes he could recognize. Both changes in his memories or new current events. Then tacked it up on the wall with all the others. Suddenly William felt a pressure in his head different than the normal pain there was a loud snap, and crackle. A smoking metal box appeared crushing his laptop and catching the loose papers on his desk on fire. He grabbed a damp towel from the laundry basket swinging it over and over smothering the small fire. He approached the strange box with caution. This had never happened before, where did it come from?

He realized he might only have a few minutes before it something changed and it disappeared. Throwing caution into the wind he quickly opened the box and looked inside. The box, about the size of a shoe box, was mostly empty. He reached inside and pulled out a single sheet of paper:

William,

You don’t know who I am, but I know everything about you. There’s no time for me to explain right now I will explain later. Right now, all you need to know, is that at exactly 2:33 a man will kick down your door and kill you. Do what you must. Run. Survive. I will be in contact with you again very soon.

-The Watcher

The only other object in the box was a black 1911 pistol. William looked at the clock 2:31. He picked up the pistol and racked a load into the chamber and waited. His palms began to sweat, the weight of the gun was unfamiliar in William’s hand. He didn’t know who this Watcher was but he thought it was better to be safe than sorry. He looked at the clock 2:32.

There was a loud banging on his apartment door, “Police! Open up!” William jumped. He wasn’t expecting the police, but nothing had changed if it had he would have felt it. He decided to trust the strange letter. 2:33, small pieces of wood from the doorframe scattered across the floor as the door burst open. It was a man in a long coat with hair buzzed short and a police badge hanging from around his neck. William didn’t hesitate, using two hands he lifted the gun and fired three hurried shots into the doorway. He heard a grunt but didn’t wait to see if he had killed the man. Throwing the curtains open William climbed out the window and down the fire escape. He hit the floor running, heart pounding in his chest, he didn’t stop.

He didn’t know where to go, he had been wandering the city for hours. He tucked the gun into his waist ban not wanting to draw attention. Suddenly from the doorway to his right a woman emerged.

“Are you William?” She said in a hushed voice.

He looked around and nodded. She opened the door all the way, “Quickly come inside the Watcher sent me.” William followed her into the building.

“How do you know the Watcher? Who is he?” William asked as he followed her upstairs.

She didn’t answer until they entered an apartment and the door was locked, “I don’t know the Watcher. All I know is a metal box appeared in my living room. Inside was a letter that said if I saved you, he would save my son.”

William felt the pressure in his head just as two more boxes appeared in the room one right after the other. The looked at the boxes, each one was engraved with the persons name. William ran over and opened his box. Another letter:

William,

I’m glad you escaped but you didn’t kill the man. It is of the utmost importance that you follow my instructions to the letter. He is wounded, that will buy you some time, but he will be looking for you. Another thing I promised that woman I would revive her dead son, things have changed and that is no longer an option. Do Not Trust Her. I’ve included some additional gear to help. Follow the numbers. I will be in contact.

-The Watcher

William was rifling through the things in the box. He looked over at the woman who was reading the letter from her box. It didn’t look good. She was crying but by the end of the letter she whipped her tears away and reached into her box. William remembered what the Watcher said about not trusting her. He moved away from the boxes and to the other side of the room. As the woman reached into the box, William reached behind him and gripped the pistol.

When the woman stood and turned around she had a gun. William drew his pistol when he saw her turning around. This time William made sure to aim straight. William didn’t hesitate but the woman did. Now she was dead, crumpled up where she fell. He stood over her lifeless body and stared at her. He was conflicted he felt guilt over his actions but at the same time he knew at any moment the time line could change and she would be alive again. He grabbed the woman by the ankles and dragged her out of the way so he could get to her box. Inside was a letter:

Naomi,

I have your son. The watcher couldn’t save him but I did. I will bring Jamie to you. All you have to do is kill William. Once it is done you will be reunited with him.

-Wrath

William stared at the valediction. He tried to make sense of the situation but couldn’t. He looked into Naomi’s box and found the only other thing within it. It was a picture of a man and a boy. The man was vaguely familiar he wore modern clothes and his hair was buzzed close to his head. The boy looked to be about ten or eleven. William looked around the apartment till he found what he was looking for. A picture on the wall confirmed what William had suspected. It was the same boy in both photos.

William returned to his box and pulled out the objects given to him by the Watcher. One was a notebook full of what, at first glance, seemed to be random numbers. However, after further inspection he noticed the numbers correlated to the numbers on a strange device he withdrew from the box. It looked like a compass but it didn’t point north. Instead it randomly flicked back and forth. It had a dial with six rotatable numbers like a combination padlock. William adjusted the dial to match the first line of numbers in the notebook. Once the last number was set the arrow of the compass finally decided where it wanted to point. Follow the numbers.

Several days had gone by and William thought he had it figured out. The numbers he was following were locations, either safe houses or boxes filled with supplies. Each location took him in the same general direction but he still wasn’t sure what the destination was or who the Watcher or Wrath was. Those were things he pondered as he walked. His hypothesis was that the Watcher and Wrath were two separate individuals who shared the same ability to send the boxes to different points in time. If he was right, then they are the cause of the time line changes that have corrupted his life up to now.

So far, the Watcher seemed to be trustworthy. The cop that broke down William’s apartment door was a detective for the local police. Wrath had sent him a box full of incriminating evidence against William and convinced him that William had to be killed. Despite running for his life William respected the detective. Never before had he seen someone so driven, so hell bent on achieving his goal. It was the only thing that kept William up at night. He wasn’t worried about the Watcher he was keeping him safe, for whatever reason, and he assumed the detective was the best Wrath could do.

Now the numbers in the notebook had taken him into the mountains above the city. He only had five numbers left, if he walked fast he might reach the end before dark. William stopped, He looked behind him feeling as if he was being watched. He couldn’t tell if it was paranoia caused by his uneasiness in the wild or if maybe the detective was closer than he thought. He trusted the Watcher and ignored his instincts. After a few hours he had crossed off three more numbers from the list but was exhausted. The compass was leading him to the top of a mountain, William was sure of it. He had gained several thousand feet in elevation. Whenever the trees opened up he would stop and look over the entire city while he caught his breath.

A twig snapped. William whipped around drawing his pistol. He wasn’t fast enough. He was hit in the stomach by a man’s shoulder. It was the detective he was trying to tackle William. His feet slid over the loose gravel as he tried to brace himself. He brought the butt of the pistol down hard on the detectives back. He groaned and loosened his grip. William hit him again. This time he fell to the ground dazed. After a swift kick to the face he rolled off the trail and down the hill out of sight. William was hunched over trying to catch his breath. He was so close he could feel it. There was some sort of pressure in the air. It almost felt like something was trying to pull him up the mountain. He had to hurry the detective wouldn’t be out for long and William had to find the last number. He willed his way up the mountain telling himself one step at a time just keep walking. The second to last number was a box full of water bottles and healthy snacks. Exhaustion had taken the place of Williams patience. He cursed the Watcher, it was almost ironic that he is keeping William alive but must have forgotten to warn him about the detective.

At this point it didn’t matter, he only had one number left to find and it was still early in the afternoon. He chugged one water bottle and stuck another in the back pocket of his jeans. After he picked out a few snacks that looked good to him he kept walking. If he stopped for too long the soreness of his muscles would sap his motivation. He couldn’t stop. Not now, he was too close. He wiped the sweat from his brow and checked his compass. The needle was holding steady. He was close. The small mountain trail that William had been walking slowly began to widen. Adrenalin hit and William began jogging up the last portion of trail.

Tall pines and white aspen trees encircled a clearing. Amongst the long grass and ferns was a single solitary cement structure. William walked up to the door and read the numbers engraved in the metal. He looked at the notebook and confirmed the numbers on the door matched the last numbers in the book. He grabbed the metal handle and twisted. He felt the latching mechanism click and he pulled. The door was incredibly heavy but as it broke the seal of the door frame a cascade of bright white light flooded from the opening. William shielded his eyes as he walked into the light. He heard the door shut behind him, he looked back but his eyes still hadn’t adjusted to the light.

“So, you finally found me,” Came a raspy tired voice. “Well it seems as though everything is happening as it should.”

As William’s eyes adjusted he could make out the blurry shape of an old man sitting hunched over in a large chair, “Are you the watcher? Why have you brought me here?”

A wheezy chuckle turned into a cough, “No, I’m not the Watcher. You are. My name is Detective Jim Wrath, and you’re here to kill me.”

Author's Note

You can find the a sister story to this one here:
https://www.booksie.com/543179-washed-away