Part 7: When We Danced

Something felt wrong, but he couldn’t place what was off. His tongue ran over his teeth, he tasted liquor. It had been years since his last drink and the flavor burned slightly. His left thumb was twirling a silver band on his left ring finger.

“And that’s when I caught her,” a familiar voice finished.  Landon’s eyes rose to meet the source of the voice. Xander sat across from him. He didn’t startle but felt like he should. His insides screamed like the end of the world was coming, but his eyes remained locked on Xander’s.

“I’m sorry, man,” Landon felt himself say.

Abigail approached the table with three wine glasses. The warm light from the chandeliers reflected off a large diamond on her ring finger. Landon stood as she got closer and took a glass from her hand.

“Boys, sorry that took so long,” she leaned in and kissed Landon softly.

“Has Sam moved out yet?” Abigail said as she sat, crossing her legs as she faced both men.

“Yeah, she packed her stuff and was gone yesterday,” Xander responded. Landon’s eyes left Abigail’s face and looked at the room for the first time.  The walls were gold, almost reflective of the color temperature in the lights. Ornate crown molding edged against the hand-painted ceiling. A row of crystal chandeliers hung down the center of the long ball room. The crowds danced to a live jazz band. Suddenly, the right sleeve of Landon’s tuxedo began to pull on his arm. He stretched it out and pain surged through his ribs. His eyes widened.

Abigail noticed.

“You alright, sweetie?” she said as she leaned toward him and placed her hand on his knee.

“I’ll be right back,” he said, placing the wine glass on the burgundy table cloth. He moved through the crowd. His suit slid off another tux’.

“Sorry, excuse me,” he said as he placed his hand against a shoulder on his way to the restroom. The heavy door opened. The bathroom was a single. He locked the door and spun, barely catching himself on the countertop.

His vision went double, almost shifting his brain somewhere else. His feet flashed as if they were bare, and the bathroom tile was cold, until his shoes reappeared. He faced himself in the mirror. His perfect hair flickered between nicely combed and gelled to disheveled and sweaty. His face seemed to change with it; drained.

“Relax,” a familiar voice came from the stall behind him. He spun, his feet bare again and his whole tuxedo gone. He ached everywhere. He lifted his shirt; the ribs on his right side were bruised a deep purple and red. The stall door opened. Landon’s eyes drooped taking his whole body with him to the floor.

“Things are about to change,” the voice echoed through the bathroom.

His mouth burned of wine again; his eyelids lifted as if the weight had been dropped to the ground. Abigail and Xander were chuckling across the table from him. He blinked at them. He let out a deep breath. He stood, gently placing the stemware on the navy tablecloth. His eye twitched for a moment, he shook it off.

“Excuse us,” he said, extending his hand to Abigail. She reached up and softly placed her fingers into his palm.

“Oh, fancy. You never like to dance,” she said as they moved away from the table.

His vision flashed a moment; the room as bare and Xander was a stooped machine. Landon squinted and everything faded back to normal.

“Having those headache’s again?” she asked.

He smiled at her, “I’ll deal with them until I can get into Dr. Rosen’s on Monday.”

They moved out to the dance floor. The quartet began playing a half-tempo version of Book of Love. They swayed slowly together. Her head rested against his chest.

“Did you pay them to play our song?” she asked. He lightly squeezed her arm.

Her hand slid down his back and rested on his side. A sharp pain flew through his ribs. His eyes widened and he stumbled back away from her, the pain searing through his head.

“Landon? Darling?” she said as she chased after him.

He bumped a table. The table cloth changed from navy to burgundy. His eyes were heavy again.

Everything vanished in a burst light.

Part 7: Change the Future

He blinked. The journey felt similar to the first couple of times he jumped but the end was far less painful. Instead of being vomited to the ground it was almost as if the Earth spun around him and placed him gently on the grass. Steam came from his body. His bare feet burned, as he flexed his toes.

A crash echoed behind him. He turned to see Abigail thrown from himself and a scuffling Heavy. The girl moved away from the fighting and then suddenly with a burst of light and particles Heavy and Landon were gone, leaving only singed grass. Abigail stood in shock. Particles settled on the ground around her and she began to weep.

“Abigail,” he said quietly, his voice hoarse. She turned slowly, her eyes lighting up as she saw him.

“Landon?” she asked, stepping lightly toward him and then looking back to the burnt grass.

“It’s me. It’s been so long,” he said.

She wiped her tears and then ran to him, wrapping her arms around him. She was bruised and scraped; her dress was still its original blue, though slightly torn.

“I thought I was going to be stuck here,” she said through tears.

He wrapped his arms around her.

“I tried to get here as soon as I could.” The moment of peace seemed to hang in the air.

A loud boom echoed behind them. They spun. A beam of light came down through the clouds revealing a taller, bigger Heavy. It stood upright, as if unfolding from a cube of metal, and looked at them. Landon pushed Abigail behind him, her fingers laced in his.

A light flickered on Heavy’s chest projecting a hologram of The Suit.

“You will run from us. You will try to hide from us, but we will follow you no matter where you go or when you go,” he said, his image flickering in and out. Abigail squinted, trying to place the voice and blurry image.

The bracer began to hum. The four looked down at Landon’s wrist.

“You’ve stolen my tech.” The Suit said, looking back up to Landon.

“Kill them,” The Suit’s voice echoed as Heavy had already began moving with a loud mechanical whine.

Xander sprinted forward, covering almost four feet in a single stride. The hologram blurred out as Xander passed through it.

Landon twisted around Abigail, pulling her hand as they began running away from Heavy.

The grass was wet and made traction difficult for Landon and Abigail. Heavy’s feet crushed through the grass and threw mud into the air with each step. The hum grew louder but he could barely hear it over the thumping of his heart and Heavy’s feet.

Abigail’s fingers slipped from his sweaty palm. She dropped to the ground, staining her dress with chlorophyll. Landon stopped, his bare feet sliding across the wet grass. His center of gravity shot to his feet and as he tried to turn around he fell. His ribs cracked against the ground and he extended his arm out. Abigail’s hand reached toward him.

The hum grew louder, blaring as Heavy gained on the two.

Landon slammed his other arm into the grass and lunged himself forward. His finger touched Abigail’s as Heavy leapt into the air, his giant-metal feet close together, preparing to slam down on Abigail. The hum stopped and they vanished.

Heavy destroyed the grass that was under Abigail as particles moved away from the newly blackened grass.

The light flickered on again. The hologram of The Suit faced Heavy.

“Begin the trace. Follow them until they’re dead,” the Suit said between gritted teeth.

Heavy pressed a button on his arm and relaxed back, folding back into his cube. In the blink of an eye he vanished, leaving residual hologram and throwing grass and mud into the air.

Part 7: Bloody Metal Hands

The elevator was moving, but none of the floor lights were illuminated. The car slowed. Before the doors opened a gunshot rang out. She drew her pistol and the doors opened. Landon stood before her firing down the hallway. He turned and fired at the glass. As he sprinted toward the damaged glass Ace dove from the elevator car and tackled him away from the pane.

They slammed to the ground. Landon rolled and looked to her.

“Abigail?” he asked, confused.

She looked to her side as Heavy ran at her. She clamored across the Italian marble floor away from her attacker.

Landon fired at Heavy, the bullets bounced around his legs and into the ground. He continued toward Ace. She fired at Heavy landing a bullet in his eye. He stumbled and tripped around her, slamming into the bullet riddled window.

The panes shattered as the machine fell out of sight. Glass danced lightly on the tiles. The two agents looked to each other breathing heavily.

“How did you get here? I lost you in…” He paused trying to catch his breath.

“You have to go back and save me,” she said through gasps for air, “I can’t be here when you come back.”

They pushed off the ground and walked toward each other.

“I don’t understand,” Landon said, “You’re right here.”

“But if you don’t go get me, then I won’t be here. I’m not your Abigail and she can’t…”

She began walking down the hallway Landon had came from. She checked a corner and disappeared around it. Landon looked back to the broken window and then followed her.

He found her in a room similar to the one in the ISO-squared labs. She was typing into a computer.

“I’m sending you to moments after you and the machine vanished,” she said, not looking to him.

“Why not for the amount of elapsed time?”

“She…” A lump dragged her throat down, tears beginning to well in her eyes, “can’t become me,” she responded.

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t want to put her through that. It’s too much pain to put on someone else,” she said, lowering her head and flattening her palms on the desk.

“But if we change things…” he started but was quickly interrupted.

“I am the target. The person I’ve become is the target. If she doesn’t go through the events I went through she won’t become me. She’ll be able to have a different life. You have to bring her back to yours and her time. Forget you briefly knew this version of her.”

She was staring at him. Only the hum of the computers filled the room.

“What happened?” he asked.

She looked away and began typing again, “I’m preprogramming the device to jump you to her and then return you both to your time. The only caveat is when the timer goes off you must be touching her.”

Her finger slammed against the return key and the computer began to whine. Across the room a hole in the wall slid open and a drawer came out. A wrist bracer sat on the drawer. Ace made her way to the device and inspected it before picking it up. Landon took a deep breath as she made her way back to him.

“Wrist,” she said unlatching the underside.

He held out his left wrist and she slid the bracer onto his forearm. She pressed a single button near his elbow and the bracer tightened down to his wrist size. Several small needles pierced his wrist from inside the bracer.

“Ah!” he said stepping back and shaking his wrist in pain.

“You are the battery; it only works if it’s attached to a person. Come with me,” she said walking passed him out of the room.

He followed her in silence back to the elevator lobby. She stopped by the elevator doors and faced him with her back to the missing window. The bracer on his wrist began to make a humming sound.

“That is warning that you’re about to jump. The new design won’t hurt like it used to.” A loud thump came from outside the window.

Ace closed her eyes. Landon took a step forward. She lifted her hand for him to stop. He complied.

Another thump came from the outside, this time it shook the floor. Her eyes opened and she looked at Landon. The hum was almost so loud he could barely hear.

“You have thirty seconds once it starts the jump process,” she said her eyes welling up with tears.

“What happened to make you the way you are?” he asked, stepping forward again.

Another loud thump. Long mechanical fingers came from the window opening and dug into the marble tiles.

Landon stepped back, pulling his sidearm, “Abigail!”

“Take her dancing,” she said quietly.

The hand pulled up the damaged Heavy machine. It looked to Landon and then to Ace. It moved its free hand toward her. It’s long fingers wrapped around her torso.

“Landon,” she said. He looked to her.

“I lost you,” she said as a long blade pierced through her chest. Her eyes widened.

Landon jumped forward. Heavy’s hands slid off the tile, dragging Ace through the window. Her body collapsed out of the hole as a swirl of particles engulfed Landon.

The lobby sat empty, only glass debris and bullet casings littered the floor.

Part 5: Meanwhile

The table was made of oak and lacquered in a dark, dark brown. She stared at her hands as the board members across from her whispered amongst themselves. Her fingers were interlaced, and it was then that she noticed the chipped blue fingernail polish on her hands. That had been for the Christmas party that she ended up skipping. Nothing had been the same since they left. The only thing she could say was that he’d gone missing in action. There was no body, and no sign of him since then.

The CEO of Vertical Intelligence Group cleared his throat. Samantha’s head lifted to make eye contact with him.

“Samantha Vasden, after our internal investigation into the events of what happened during the Industrial Science Operation Organization mission, we have found that your statement that Sergeant Landon Daniels went M-I-A to be valid and true. You are no longer suspended from field duty.”

“Thank you, sir,” she responded quietly.

“However, given your limited field experience and the available agents to pair you with, we are transferring you to a different department. You will now be in charge of new recruits. Starting this morning we have one,” the CEO paused to flip open a manilla envelope, “Wyatt Reed to be under your supervision. You’ll take him through his vertical intelligence gatherer training. He can pick up his VIG and biometric suit in the armory. Once training is complete you both may take the remainder of the day off and then we’ll have a briefing for you in the morning.”

“Yes, sir,” she responded.

“Good. He’s waiting for you in the conference room down on six,” the CEO finished, gesturing to the door.

Samantha stood and exited the room without another room.

Wyatt Reed had pretty much the same background as the other field agents: strong military background, aptitude for excellence, medals and honors galore, and the desire to make more money than was possible in the national government. He sat at an equally dark table in the conference room on six. He finished reading his new file and closed the envelope looking down at it. Wyatt Reed V-I-G Operative 6-2-3 stared at him from the black ink scribbled onto the tab of the folder.

He let out a sigh as impatience began to rise in him. He started to sway back and forth in the large leather office chair. He spun 180 degrees and checked the clock: 9:37am. He spun back toward the table; he’d been sitting there for 37 minutes and read his file twice.

The door handle jiggled and he quickly spun to face it. Samantha entered forcefully and stopped at the door.

“Wyatt Reed?” she asked, clearly frustrated by something.

“Ma’am,” he responded in a southern drawl.

“Follow me,” she said as she turned and exited. He pushed the chair away from the table took two steps, and then jumped back to the table to grab his file. He entered the busy hallway and sprinted lightly to catch up to Samantha. The remainder of the day was uneventful. Samantha was bored and Wyatt quickly grew disinterested in her.

Part 4: Separate Places

Landon fought the weight of his eyelids. When they opened, Samantha was in his bed, waiting for him. His shirt was missing and two glasses of red wine were in his hands.

“Is that the gamay?”

He started to answer, but then realized that he hadn’t quite heard the question.

“Well, don’t just stand there. You promised me good wine.”

Still he didn’t move.

“Do you want to trade?” She threw back the sheets revealing herself to him. His body moved forward, desiring her.

After two steps his brain stopped him. A flutter of a memory passed through him of some other woman. Blonde hair. A fragrance of roses triggered his brain into another memory. His head drooped and eyes closed, but something pulled him back to this room.

Samantha widened her eyes.

“Landon, sweetie, are you okay?”

His eyes opened again, his knees becoming weak and body teetering.

“Yeah,” he said as he brought the wine toward the bed. He placed the glasses on the night stand before sitting on the edge of the bed.

Samantha slid across the sheets and put her naked body against him, wrapping her arms around his torso. His skin was warm and damp.

He started shaking as if he’d had nothing to eat for days.

“Sweetheart, are you ok?”

“Something just feels, off,” he replied.

He reached his hand up and put it on top of hers. He was drawn to her and could feel love for her, or at least in his mind he knew he did. But it felt strange to him, like when you dream about someone and awake with a small crush on them.

He held out his free hand and it was shaking. He stared at it a moment, trying with all his might to stop the shaking.

“I’ll get your meds,” she said.

“Meds?”

“For your Parkinson’s,” she said as she kissed his neck and then rolled across the bed, grabbing her robe as she left the warmth of the sheets.

He thought a moment, remembering that he didn’t have Parkinson’s, but as he went to say it aloud a sudden headache came on, as if punishing him for wanting to speak the truth.

She came back, standing over him. She stuck her hand out and a tiny white pill rested in her palm. Her robe was open and he looked up to her eyes.

He grabbed the pill and one of the glasses and took a swig. The pill went down easy, and as he accepted his new disease the headache went away. He’d always preferred white wine. The stabbing pain returned.

He turned his head and looked out the window. Samantha came closer, wrapping her arms around him. His cheek pressed against her stomach. Something was off.

The small fire was barely enough to keep Abigail warm. The Landon machine sat near the edge of the water. It’s eyes stared at the ground as it’s parts whirred almost silently.

“Why can’t we just leave?” She said, breaking the almost-silence.

“My ability to travel is powered by the sun. I must wait until I can recharge my cells before I can return to my time,” it said, the voice almost straining to say a complete sentence.

She felt unsatisfied. They sat in silence for another long time before she spoke again.

“What happened to you?”

The machine turned and looked at her, his mechanical eye glowing a soft emerald color.

“The Heavy machine did this to me,” it spoke, the human in its voice sounding more faint.

“Who rebuilt you?”

“Scientists were poached from ISO-Squared by my agency. They spared me from death. There is more at stake with you unaccounted for. Your death would set into motion events that could…” the machine paused and caught its breath. Its voice glitched a moment.

“That could what?”

The whole torso of the machine turned to her, quicker than it had moved before. Abigail’s hand unconsciously settled on her spear.

“I am not at liberty to say,” it spoke quickly for the first time. “Rest Abigail, you will need your strength tomorrow.” It spoke one last time and then seemed to shut down.

Abigail slid underneath the skin of a dear and pulled the fur up to her shoulder. Her gaze never left the Landon machine until she slept.

Part 4: Newton’s First Law

It had been so long since she’d seen any new technology, or since she had seen other humans that when it happened she reacted in the way an animal would. She dropped behind a large rock, her spear pointed behind her, but ready to fly at an instances notice.

The sky seemed to darken as she hunched over the fallen deer. She noticed then that the air was still, and not a single animal made a sound. Suddenly a burst of light ripped from the sky to the ground, singeing the grass in a single around the light. Her eyes stayed focus on what was in the light. It faded and the sky returned to normal.

This is when she found herself behind the rock, staring at the orange shape in the center of the burning circle. The orange faded away leaving a brown metal shape. It didn’t move, and neither did she. Her breathing almost stopped in an attempt to keep quiet. It felt like forever until the object moved, and that was the first time she blinked since the light faded.

The brown metal hinged open like the bloom of a flower. A human, curled into the cannon ball position, crouched in the center. The figure was familiar, but different. It stood revealing naked torso. It’s left arm leading up the left side of its head was completely covered in metal. But she’d seen it before. The body wasn’t covered in metal, it was metal.

The body stretched as it stood. The left arm, left side of the neck and head, and the whole lower half of the body were metal. This creature had once been human, but she was hesitant. It looked like Landon. She wanted it to be Landon.

It called out, “Abigail.” It was almost his voice, but the machine sound was more prevalent than Landon’s original vocal chords.

“Abigail,” it called out again, his voice distressed.

A sudden wave of emotion came over her. Her body shook as she realized he had finally come back for her.

“Here,” she shouted as she stood from behind the rock.

The Suit took his time walking down the hallway. The flesh on his face dangled with each step. His grip on Landon’s throat was loose enough for him to breathe but tight enough so he couldn’t get away. The Suit whistled as if this was an everyday occurrence.

His toes dragged across the tile, his feet still cold. The yellow of his prison outfit had been darkened in his arm pits and smeared with mud and blood. He was tired, beat down and in his core wasn’t really sure why he kept fighting so hard for someone he barely knew.

But there was a connection. And now she was somewhere. Hopefully, still alive. With what little strength he had left he lifted his arm and wrapped his fingers around The Suit’s hand.

“Fight all you like, Landon. It’ll be over soon.” The Suit finished and went back to whistling.

A set of double doors slid open as The Suit approached.

A medical chair sat in front of the two of them. The Suit lifted Landon and placed him into the chair. Straps automatically locked Landon in place.

The Suit stepped back ripping the remainder of his face off. A scientist appeared with a new face on a silver tray. He stared only at the floor as The Suit lifted the synthetic flesh and placed it over his metallic skull.

“We are born animals, and some of us will die animals,” The Suit said as he reached into his jacket pocket, pulled his pistol and fired once into the scientist. The tray crashed to the ground and spun on its edges.

Landon thought of being at a restaurant and hearing a waiter drop a tray full of dishes, and suddenly the image appeared above him.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” The Suit made minor adjustments to his new face. “You think of a memory and this wonderful device shows it to the rest of us. It also works the other way. If I want to implant a memory I can. Like…”

The Suit approached a computer terminal and typed a second, “this one.”

A projection of a young Landon riding a blue bicycle appeared above them, and then suddenly he was struck by a school bus.

Landon screamed out in pain as the projection burned into his memory.

“That one is my favorite. Oh, this is a good one too.” The Suit said clicking another button.

A projection of Landon perched upon a building appeared above them. In his hands was a large sniper rifle with a small computer attached to it. He pressed a button on the screen and it lit up with the familiar HUD of Xander’s time device. He dialed in a time. The date and time looked familiar. He aimed and fired. In a moment the bullet vanished from the air in front of the barrel is a puff of particles.

Half a second later on the screen a heat sensor image of Abigail’s office appeared. A hot spot formed and immediately traveled straight through Abigail’s head.

Landon shook, his body full of regret.

“Funny, you didn’t seem this upset the first time you killed her.” Then The Suit burst into laughter. He typed another second onto the terminal.

Suddenly a needle pierced the back of Landon’s neck. He tried to shake.

“Careful now, that’s in your spine. We wouldn’t want to damage yourself, now would we?”

Landon’s eyes shifted to The Suit.

Part 4: Abandon

/ISO-Squared Server Access Request
/ISO-Squared Login Required
/Username: Alexander.Steele
/Password: ************

/Account Verification
/Pending….
/.…
/.…
/Account Approved
/Exiting Date: August 07, -1113 143341
/Entering Date: August 07, 2147 143033

/Begin Process Verification
/Enter Grounding Information
/39.0997° N, 94.5786° W
/1.00 ± 0.02 au x 0807(2147)/143033
/…
/Grounding Accepted

/Incoming Weight Measurement: 1898.284 kg
/Power Allocation: Yes
/Power Stabilization Accepted
/Verification Accepted
/Begin Transfer

Landon’s feet slammed against the tile floor of the 190th floor of the ISO-Squared Corporate building. Xander’s hands immediately pulled him down to the ground. The Landon lifted his feet and pressed his bare feet against Xander’s face, pushing his face away.

The turret on Xander’s back lifted and aimed at Landon, and began firing blindly. Landon shifted his weight to the left, the bullets shredding Xander’s left arm. The grip loosened, oxygen flooding back to Landon’s body. He rolled out of Xander’s grip and began running away. The turret continued firing  at Landon, the bullets riddling the imported italian marble tiles.

Landon dropped to his knees, sliding on his prison pants behind a large marble column. He could hear the bullets destroying the column.

“Stand down,” an older but familiar voice spoke softly into the large foyer.

The turret immediately stopped. Landon peered around the corner. The Suit knelt beside the damaged Xander and pulled cables out of the back of Xander’s neck. The green in his pupils faded out and the entire machine fell limp.

“Landon Daniels,” the older Suit said casually as he stood, wiping oil from his hand.

Landon stood and limped out from behind the column, his body drained of all adrenaline.

“Where is Abigail?” The Suit said, folding the handkerchief and placing it in his pants pocket.

“I think the better question is ‘When?'” Landon said, barely holding himself up, “What do you want with her?”

“She’s a priceless commodity, that girl. Amazing resolve. The cog in the machine, and the harbinger of my destruction,” The Suit said smiling. “You can understand my desire to kill her.”

The Suit took two large steps toward Landon and placed his hand on his shoulder. Lowering his head down to Landon’s height he lifted Landon’s chin, “This is why I did kill her. But you, you decided to change that didn’t you?”

Landon’s eyes looked over the Suit. His suit was a deep charcoal, with a purple handkerchief in the breast pocket. It clicked in Landon’s brain.

“You… But I…”

The Suit removed his hands from Landon, “Yes, you did kill me. At least a version of me. Much like you’ve killed countless versions of my Heavy machine throughout the years. But,” The Suit turned away from Landon and stuck his hand inside the suit coat, “this is the first time you’ve actually made it back to my penthouse. Your desire out matches that of all your previous models.”

He turned back to Landon, a silver handgun in his hand. Landon’s weight shifted to his back foot.

“I’m sorry, Landon. I do like you, but this… this is just how it has to be.”

He pulled the trigger.

The air felt warm on Abigail’s fingertips. She paused a moment and then pressed her fingers against lips. They cooled. She looked back up the hill. Tears filled her eyes.

“Please come back.”

Part 3: When Will This End?

A moment of hesitation lingered in time. The smoke from the revolver hung in the air; Landon’s eyes followed the body as it fell. The event rippled through time. A police car rolled up to the front of the building, two officers spilling out, shotguns in hand.

Landon exhaled, and the lights began to dim. Concern crossed Landon’s eyebrows.

With an EMP blast, Xander exploded into the lobby. The reception desk shattered, sending debris and nurses into the nearby walls. The cops entered the front door and opened fire on Xander.

The blasts moved his shoulders, pulling his attention. He lifted his robotic hand. The palm spiraled open, vomiting a 40mm grenade at the police. Before the detonation, Xander had turned back toward the body of the hospital. The grenade blew the cops out the front door, showering them in shrapnel.

Landon slammed against the window, prying the blinds open just in time to see the debris and cops hit the ground.

“He’s here.”

Abigail spun her legs from the bed pausing as her bare feet pressed against the cold tiles. Landon came to her side, catching her weight as she tried to stand on her own. They moved slowly to the door. He unlocked it quietly and they stepped into the hall. The double doors into the burn ward blasted open, embedding into the walls. Glass littered the ground.

A nurse frantically picked up the phone, dialing 911 as quickly as her fingers moved. Xander stepped into the burn ward. She began to scream. A turret on Xander’s back aimed at the nurse, firing a single shot. The nurse dropped to the ground, the phone dangling by her hand.

Landon pushed Abigail behind his body.

“She is mine, Daniels,” Xander spoke, his robotic voice echoing down the halls.

Landon aimed the revolver at Xander’s head.

“Try it,” the machine shouted, faint laughter hidden in the voice.

He squeezed the trigger; the bullet spiraled toward Xander’s head. A sudden burst of energy came from Xander, knocking the bullet and everything around him back. Every window in the hallway shattered, and Landon and Abigail fell backward to the ground.

Xander began moving forward, his robotic legs smashing the tiles. Landon shook his head as Xander towered over him. A metal foot slammed against Landon’s chest, knocking the wind out of him.

He leaned forward and picked up Abigail by her neck. Xander’s back seemed to relax as it glowed green. A screen appeared on his wrist, a date appeared on it: December 26, 1974 104716. The date vanished, a new one replacing it: August 07, 2147 143033.

The green from Xander’s back began to cover his whole body. The lights began to dim. The familiar whining sound of the device began to come from Xander’s whole body. Landon reached up, brushing his palm against the screen on Xander’s arm. The date changed: August 07, 1774 143033. The three vanished in a flash of light.

They appeared in a burst of light in a field. Xander looked down to the wrist device. Landon’s hand gripped tightly on his arm.

Groups of colonials stood around the three, dropping their farm equipment. A couple ran in fear.

Xander lifted his leg, Landon clenched between his mechanical toes. Abigail grabbed the wrist around her neck, using her body weight to kick Xander in the face. Landon smacked the wrist device again, the date changing: August 07, -1113 143033. The three vanished again, leaving a burned crater in the center of the field.

They appeared again, landing on a hill. Xander lost traction on the hill and began falling, dropping Abigail. She grasped the grass as Xander and Landon rolled violently down the hill. They stopped at the bottom of the hill. Landon pushed himself up from the ground. Half of Xander’s leg lie next to him on a broken tree root.

Abigail came slowly down the hill. Landon looked up to her.

“Landon!” she shouted.

He spun as Xander wrapped his long mechanical fingers around Landon’s neck. Landon’s hands almost instantly grabbed Xander’s wrists, hitting the device again.

They vanished just as Abigail reached out to touch Landon. She fell forward onto the ground.

Part 3: No Bars Hold

Landon grabbed the bloodied handkerchief and wrapped it around the silver pen. He slammed the pen into the lock of the door and began twisting. The metal lock wailed as the pen twisted. With a loud click the lock snapped open, sending the gate down its rails, nearly catching Landon’s arms between the bars.

The metal slammed against the cinder wall, knocking the Deputy’s corpse against the ground. Suddenly, an emergency alarm rang out. Landon dropped beside the Deputy and pulled his key ring, fumbling to find the right key for his cuffs.

“Freeze,” a cop shouted from behind Landon. The cuffs fell to the ground.

“Put your hands on your head,” the cop screamed again.

Landon didn’t move. The cop grabbed his walkie, pulled it from his belt and held it to his face.

“I’ve got an escaped prisoner and an officer down in the containment cell. Repeat, officer do…”

Landon spun, grabbing the gun in the cops hands. He twisted the handgun away from the cop, breaking his finger in the trigger guard. The walkie fell, the battery falling off against the ground. Landon slammed his elbow into the cop’s neck.

The cop fell, and Landon caught his weight, placing him on the ground.

He pressed his back against a wall near the door, opened the chamber on the revolver. It was empty. He chuckled at the cop a moment, snapped the chamber closed, and peered down the hallway.

He rounded the corner, and moved quickly. His bare feet made a wet slapping sound against the concrete floor. He stopped at a barred door, and pressed the open button. A violent buzz echoed through the halls. The gate unlocked.

He pushed it opened and dropped to the ground and moved quickly with his back against the lower wall of the guard station. He passed the guard station door just as it flew open; two guards sprinted by toward the open gate.

Landon stood and ran, following the faint red exit signs. He stopped at another gate with an office door behind it. He pressed the buzzer again. A moment passed before the gate unlocked. He stepped through as the standard office door on the other side began to open. He slammed his shoulder into the door, knocking the cop on the other side to the ground. He aimed the empty revolver at the cop.

“Stay down,” he said placing his bare foot on the officer’s chest.

A couple other officer’s stood by their desks all in shock at the escaped prisoner. He lifted the gun.

“I don’t want to use this, but I will if you all don’t get out of my way.”

He aimed at the men as he made his way toward the door.

A detective came at him from behind, bear hugging Landon and lifting him from the ground. Landon lifted his feet high and then slammed his heels into the top of the detective’s knees. The detective screamed as he dropped Landon, clutching his knees.

Landon pushed open the door to the outside. The sun seemed to blind him. He paused a moment to get his bearings. He spotted a map on a nearby bus bench. He pocketed the gun as he made his way to it. He ran his finger over the thin plastic protecting the paper until he found St. Mary’s Hospital on the north edge of town.

Part 3: Behind Steel Bars

He gazed beyond the parallel lines that hid him. His yellow pants and shirt itched on his sore skin. his wrists were cold against the cuffs. His pupils focused on nothing, the bars blurred lines in front of where he stared.

Two men, a larger Police Deputy and a man in a brown three piece suit entered the space beyond the bars. Landon blinked, refocusing on the men in front of him. His eyes immediately locked on the brightest color in front of him, a faint turquoise handkerchief poking from the man in the suit’s jacket pocket.
“Students say he came out of no where and smacked into a professor and a girl. The teacher died in the hospital and the girl is in ICU at St. Mary’s with 1st degree burns,” the Deputy said, his jowls bouncing as he spoke. Landon couldn’t look away, yet felt disgusted as he stared.

The man in the suit nodded.

“He came in unconscious. We confiscated a damaged set of clothing, looked like something out of one of those Metal Hurlant comics, and some slick lookin’ firearm that I ain’t ever seen,” the Deputy finished.

“Who are you?” the man in the suit asked, seeming completely uninterested.

“Sergeant Landon Daniels. Vertical Intelligence Group. Field agent.”

“That’s all he says,” the Deputy said stepping up to the bars, “We don’t know what no Vertical Intellectual Group is…” he shouted at Landon, slowly as if trying to make a foreign language more clear. He leaned away from the bars, “damn hippie.”

“He said Intelligence, not Intellectual,” the man in the suit corrected.

The Deputy didn’t seem to see the difference between the words. He looked to the man in the suit and then continued his briefing, “Boys said he was pretty ripped under his clothes. May be some kind of vet.”

Landon smirked.

The man in the suit pulled his leather-bound notepad from under his arm and opened it. He pulled a silver pen from it’s pocket, clicked the top once and then slammed the point into the Deputy’s neck. The Deputy grabbed at the Suit’s hand, trying to claw the pen from his neck. Blood spilled out onto the Suit’s hand; his grip still tight against the pen. He dropped the notepad and pushed the Deputy against the bars, placing his other hand over the Deputy’s mouth.

Landon tried to stand, the chain connecting his wrists to the bottom of the bench. He stopped in a crouched position, realizing he was attached to the bench.

“You stupid fat waste of space,” the Suit smiled at the dying Deputy, “you have no idea what you’ve got here.”

Landon grabbed the chain between his hands and placed his feet on the bottom of the bench and began pulling. Slowly the chain gave way and pulled apart.

The lifeless Deputy slumped to the floor against the steel as the Suit turned to face Landon.

“Landon Daniels. I’ve been waiting for you for a long time.” The suit threw the pen between the bars and pulled his handkerchief from his breast pocket. He wiped the blood off his hands, and then pushed his glasses back up on his nose. He looked to Landon and smiled.

“St. Mary’s eh? I guess I’ll have to go pay Abigail a visit,” he laughed out loud, “Enjoy your time in prison, Daniels.”

He dropped the handkerchief onto the Deputy’s face and then picked up his notepad. He smiled once more at Landon and then disappeared down the hallway.