When It All Goes Still Page 5

  “I’ll see ya Monday, Johanna. Thanks again!” She pushes open the doors, locking them behind her.

  I have half an hour before I need to open the doors to customers. Gina has already prepped the store. Saturdays are typically busy for us. When the local dam releases the water this morning at nine a.m., the kayakers will flock to the rivers feeding into the lake for a weekend rush. The Great Outdoors is centrally located to the park, lake, and downtown, making it convenient to any paddler who has forgotten their gear and every curious tourist passing through. I may have abandoned my degree in business two years in, but I seem to be faring well at it so far.

  Other employees begin coming in the back entrance. Two warehouse workers, three floor consultants, and two cashiers. Gina quickly earned her way into the management position with her knowledge of running, camping, and the local trails. She was the high school track star, earning her way to a full paid scholarship at the local community college. I’m happy to work around her schedule and the commitments she has now, as an assistant coach to the track team, in order to have her knowledge running the shop. After a quick check on the store and a hello to the workers, I open the doors and head into the back office.

  Resting in my chair, I take slow breaths, easing the pain in my side. I pull my hat off my curls, and run my fingers through the tangled mess, smoothing it down. Taking a hair tie from my wrist, I pull back a small section framing my face, and secure it behind my head. Better.

  After twenty minutes of checking inventory, and looking over the website orders, I hear a knock on the office door.

  “Come on in.” Standing, my muscles protest as I limp to the mini fridge.

  Lacey, my sophomore cashier, pokes her head in the door. “Johanna, there’s a guy asking for you out front.”

  “Is he mad about something?” I ask, while cracking open a Dr. Pepper. It’s better to know what you’re walking into.

  “Not mad. Definitely smokin’ hot, though.” She giggles and walks out into the hallway.

  I shake my head at her teenage hormones and make my way out onto the store floor. I spin in a circle and scan the entire area. I don’t see who she could be talking about, and it doesn’t appear that anyone is waiting for me. Looking back at Lacey, she shrugs her shoulders, clueless herself as to where he went.

  The buzzing in my ears has increased, causing my eyes to lose focus. “Lace, I’m going to the back for a bit if anyone needs me or the mystery man returns.” I walk toward the rear of the store, turning to go down the aisle housing hiking and camping supplies. I’m halfway across when my gaze is suddenly drawn to the middle shelf. The thin layer of plastic covering the compass packaging is…vibrating. I stand stock still and I realize the source of the vibrations is coming from the compass needles inside, spinning wildly out of control. “What in the…” Something isn’t right. Picking up one of the boxes, I shake it to stop the needle from turning. I continue walking back to my office, flipping the small package upside down to study the UPC code.

  I see him standing in front of my office door a second too late. I feel as though my entire body has electric current coursing through it, moments before slamming into the man who stole my wallet. Fire ignites in my ribs, and static energy clings to my skin. He’s holding onto my side to keep me from falling to the ground. I can see his full lips moving, saying something to me, but I can’t hear him over the ringing inside my head. His green eyes are staring at me intently, and they look as confused as I feel.

  And as quickly as it came last night in the woods, the humming stops, and the electricity subsides. I’m left clutching his shoulders for support, gazing at his oddly beautiful face, wondering what the hell he is doing in my store.

  Chapter Five

  Traveler

  “Oh shit,” I stammer, as her slender frame collides directly with mine. I can feel the energy trying to escape my fingertips, and I’m completely taken off guard. My control is usually impeccable, and the last thing I want to do is lose it and shift with this girl in my arms.

  I came back through the store after she and the other girl left the hallway. I didn’t want her screaming the second she saw me, so this was the safest place to confront her, or so I thought. She’s obviously terrified of me. What the hell is going on here?

  Twisting the knob to her office door, I use the toe of my boot to kick it open. I pull her inside before she can make a scene, her hands still clutching the fabric of my black jacket. I smell the hint of grapefruit that is in her hair as I cradle her head.

  “Hey, fuck, okay…you’re okay,” I mumble to her and myself, but she seems completely freaked out, and I’m regretting this decision. And as if a lightbulb goes off in her mind, she violently pulls away from me, and limps behind her desk clutching her side.

  “Whoa. It’s okay. I just came to return this.” When she grasps the receiver of a desk phone in her hand, I toss the wallet. It slides on the smooth wood, thumping against her laptop. She stares at it, and then back at me. I’m gazing right back at her, waiting for some kind of reaction.

  “You took that from me.” She stabs her finger toward me.

  “No. I found that for you, and I’m here to return it. You ran away from me the other day.” I hold both hands up to her as a sign that I am not a threat.

  “You chased me! And I saw you, you were…,” she trails off, pointedly glancing at my hands. “What were you doing out there?” She turns to the side, a little embarrassed at the line of questioning. She’s still unsure of what she saw and she’s eyeing me for an explanation. This is going to be easier than I thought. I’ll be back at the Division before sunrise.

  “I chased you? I looked up and there you were, tracking me in the woods like some hunter, and you’re saying I chased you?” I search her big brown eyes and see a flash of guilt. I’ve got her.

  “No! I wasn’t…you stole my wallet, and I wanted it back.” She glances off to the side, folding her arms across her chest.

  “Well, here I am. I called for you to wait, and you took off. I didn’t steal anything from you. I found it with every intention of returning it. If you were crazy enough to stalk a stranger into the woods, then why did you take off like that?” I ask her quite convincingly, watching her work through my words, seeing if they fit with her memory.

  “It was getting dark, and I was tired and hungry. But the light?” she questions, her eyes once again darting to my hands.

  She saw the light escaping my hands, which is going to be much harder to explain. It’s the main issue in disguising who we are to people living in the past. While my chamber is responsible for sending my particles to any location that can be calibrated into the machine, it’s the shifter’s responsibility to at least find a private location for the return. We’ve been seen before; however, we can easily explain it away. Like I’ve said, the inhabitants of the past like to live in a bubble, and anyone who thinks outside of the bubble is considered a lunatic.

  A shifter’s time is always limited during an assignment. The glowing numbers under my wrist, currently hidden by a thin leather bracelet, are a constant reminder. The “stopwatch” infused to my skin is there for a shifter’s safety. It can’t be forgotten if it’s a part of your body. And making sure that a shifter is somewhere private and secure prior to shifting back is high priority for the Division. It has happened previously that someone has been rushed to return, the clock winding down before they were ready, and the person ended up being seen with his particle light breaking through. I’m sure those guys died in the prison.

  After a certain point, the temporary changes in a shifter’s particles start to reverse themselves. Weakening. Once the clock has run down, it inevitably sends them back through time to manifest once again in his chamber. Ready or not.

  This is how my talent was first realized. My clock never runs down. I’m not dependent upon it to tell me when I need to return. If I want to come back to my chamber, I can make the particles in my body do it. If I need more time on assignment, I t
ake that, too.

  As intrigued as Arden was about why my particles never reversed themselves, he was more concerned for me. It requires a lot of training and discipline to be a shifter. The stopwatch is a continuous reminder to never stray too far. It’s also the Division’s insurance that a shifter can never be left behind. They know the machine will snatch you back eventually. Arden knows that if the division discovered my “gift,” I would be eliminated from the program. And he would face imprisonment for keeping it hidden. It’s a fleeting power that doesn’t last outside of shifting, but it’s a comfort knowing I have a safety net.

  “Light?” I cock my head to the side and wait to hear what thoughts she has already conjured up.

  “Your…flashlight?”

  “Oh. Yeah? What about it?” I wait, slow and even breaths flowing through my lungs.

  “Nothing. I’ve just never seen light so blazingly blue. The shadows spooked me,” she confesses. She pauses, working past her thoughts, trying to see if her own excuse still makes sense to her. Her lashes flutter as she looks down. I’ve traveled across centuries, and I’ve never experienced eyes as stunning as hers. Finally, I discern resolve in her expression. I win.

  “Now I feel silly. I’m sorry. I didn’t catch your name.” She peers up at me.

  “Traveler.” I swallow. Get your shit together, man.

  She stares me directly in the face, and it’s unnerving. I shove my hands in my pockets, not trusting them or the energy they harness right now. Get out of here.

  “I’m Johanna. Which I’m guessing you already know since you’re standing here in my store. Thank you.” She taps the wallet with her fingertips. “I was mistaken.”

  “It’s really no problem.” Offering a smile, I start toward the door.

  “Traveler?” There’s something about the way my name sounds coming off her pouty lips that causes the power in my body to spark. I’m having to work entirely too hard at keeping my control.

  “Hmmm?” I reply, not looking back at her.

  “About the flashlight. Can you tell me where you purchased it? I could really use a product like that in my store. That light in your hands could have cut through anything. I would have the hikers flocking here to take them off the shelves.” There’s an edge to her voice.

  “It was a gift.” Finally, I turn to meet her stare.

  “Oh. Do you have the flashlight with you? I could look the product codes up and locate it.” I swear she sees right through me when her eyes are on my face.

  “No, I left it behind.” I need to keep this short and get back.

  “That’s too bad. I do appreciate you returning my wallet,” she says, extending her hand for me to shake. Cautiously, I wrap my fingers around her small hand as a tiny static charge escapes and shocks us both. She jerks her arm back, and in doing so, places it on her side, in obvious discomfort.

  “Are you okay? You didn’t bump into me that hard.”

  “Ouch. No. This was all me. I passed out last night and got up close and personal with a slab of concrete.” She laughs at herself. Her smile is infectious, and she catches me staring at her mouth. I look away too late.

  There are three light taps on her office door seconds before it swings open. A petite blonde with a belly the size of a basketball enters the room. She looks to me and then Johanna, her forehead wrinkling, letting the silence stretch between the three of us.

  “Hey, MB. Everything okay?” She knows the girl, and this puts me at a little bit of a disadvantage. Odd man out.

  “Oh, sorry Jo, I didn’t know you had someone in here with you.” There’s an airy quality to the twang in her voice, causing my lips to twitch.

  “It’s okay, what’s up?”

  “You left your cell phone at home again. I was on my way to the store and thought I would bring it by for you. In case of any more emergencies.” She places her hand on her stomach, giggling. It’s an obvious joke between the two, one that I’m not privileged to be a part of.

  “Speaking of, Mary-Beth, this is Traveler. My wallet thief here to return my ‘stolen’ property. Traveler, this is my sister-in-law, Mary-Beth.” She motions between the two of us. Again, Johanna says my name, and I’m hiding the effects with a nod toward the other woman.

  “So, you’re the criminal terrorizing our neighborhoods,” she asks, raising her eyebrow at me. “Nice to meet you.”

  “Or just a passerby who saw a girl drop a wallet,” I say, offering a wink.

  “I see. It was a kind gesture to return this to Johanna. I’m sure she’s thanked you.” She pats my shoulder, and then jerks her hand to her stomach. “Whoa, buddy, easy on my spleen. Gah, that was a good one.” She gives a slight shake of her head and clears her throat as she rubs small circles over her abdomen.

  “Strengthening those hamstrings for a run with Auntie,” Johanna says, more to her visitor’s stomach than to anyone else.

  “Well, I’m off to the store. Andrew mentioned Poncho’s for dinner tonight?”

  “An olive branch.” Johanna shrugs her shoulders, bringing a knowing smile to her sister-in-law’s lips.

  “Traveler, where are you visiting our town from?” She glances at me, stalling at the office door.

  “Colorado,” I quickly blurt out. I wasn’t expecting to have to answer this line of questioning, but I’m prepared nonetheless.

  “You live in Colorado? Wow. Johanna was there last year, participating in an endurance trail challenge. What part are you from?” She’s asks, clearly on a newfound mission. Johanna has picked up on this as well and is doing a poor job of hiding her bafflement. It’s cute.

  “Right outside of Boulder. Endurance challenge? I never stood a chance of finding you in those woods, did I?” I look at Johanna, allowing amusement to play across my face.

  “Probably not.”

  “Well, how about that. What brings you here?” Mary-Beth pushes a little harder.

  “I’m somewhat of a runner myself. I’m passing by on my way to the Appalachian Mountains.” Even I’m impressed with the easiness of the lie.

  Mary-Beth stands a little taller, squaring her shoulders. “Traveler, you must understand. As a southern woman, it’s my duty to thank you for returning my sister’s wallet. I am insisting you join us for dinner tonight. Right, Johanna?” Mary-Beth is already halfway out the door. “Johanna will give you directions to the restaurant. We will see you at five thirty.” And with that, she closes the door to the conversation and the office.

  “Wait, what?” Johanna holds her hands out beside her. “Good Lord. I’m sorry. She’s pregnant and she thinks it allows her to get her own way. Which it does. But don’t feel obligated to indulge her, Traveler. I really do appreciate what you’ve done, but I’m sure you have other plans?” And it’s the inflection of her voice and the hopeful question at the end that grabs my attention. Refusing to let go. I’m staring at her face, and for some reason I can’t make the word ‘no’ come out of my mouth.

  “Poncho’s, huh?” I ask, letting her decide how she feels about it.

  “Mexican food. Fantastic, exceptional, delicious Mexican food. And margaritas that will give you a hangover for a week if you aren’t careful.” Her smile meets her eyes before she throws me a wink.

  “Does anyone say no to that woman?” I ask her, gesturing toward the door her sister-in-law just walked out of.

  “Few have tried, and none have succeeded.” She allows the smile to linger on her lips. Checkmate. And with that I’ve lost the battle.

  “Poncho’s it is then. See ya at five thirty, Johanna.”

  “Okay, Traveler,” I hear her say, as I close the door.

  ****

  I’ve been stomping through the woods for about thirty minutes now. “Damn it!” My voice bounces back to me off the trees. I check my clock, one p.m. I don’t know what happened. I don’t know what I was thinking, agreeing to this narrative her sister-in-law has put me in. That woman has to be some sort of witch. And then add Johanna, who I never expected to be s
o damn enchanting and mesmerizing. For the life of me, I couldn’t tell her ‘no’ when I sensed she wanted me to meet her for dinner.

  I’m already looking for a loophole. I don’t have to do this, I’ve decided. She believed my story. Period. She had practically fed me every line of the lie she told herself, and all I had to do was play along. Now that I’m not standing face to face with her seductive eyes studying my every move, I can see things more clearly.

  There’s no way I’m coming back. Standing in the meadow, I’m completely alert. I refuse to ever be in this situation again, so I double-check every tree and bush for someone watching. I’m free and clear. I probably could have stayed in 2365 and left well enough alone, to begin with. I’m relieved that this covert assignment is almost over. I’m done with this town.

  I sense the particles gathering, strengthening, using what it needs from me to intensify. The light is free-flowing from my body. And in my mind, I imagine the shifting room. And just as quickly as I shut my eyes, I am opening them up again in my dim chamber.

  Holy Shit. The room is dark and empty, and I frantically pat the length of my body. Forget my 12.6 second shifting record. That was instantaneous. And I can’t tell a soul about it. Whatever. As long as this bullshit is over, I’ll keep this personal best to myself.

  I reach around to unlatch the chamber locking mechanism. Crouching down low to floor, I practically crawl to the door. Again, looking around to make sure I’m alone. I can’t believe how well this worked out in my favor.

  Easing myself out into the hallway, I slip off my boots to hide my heavy footsteps. I make a beeline through the building courtyards to my room. I shed every piece of clothing, and pile it up for the incineration vault. Draping a towel around my waist, I make my way to the showers. Sharing a bathroom with Eero and Torrin has yet to be an issue, but I’m disappointed to see that it’s one third occupied.