Part 4 (1/2)
”Thank you,” he said with very real grat.i.tude.
”No problem,” she said easily. It actually solved the dilemma that had been worrying her, of how to keep him around until Kay had a chance to examine him. And once Kay had figured out what his problem was, they'd see to it that he got treatment.
So she'd picked up a stray for a few days. It was no big deal. She'd found a fuzzy gray kitten on her doorstep a couple of years ago. Not being a cat person herself, she'd fed the kitten, kept it safe, and found the perfect place for it-- with her friend Kay. Rescued from the cold, harsh world, Oscar had grown into a happy and well-adjusted, if somewhat overstuffed, cat.
James was just a stray who needed food and a warm place to stay. All she had to do was find a happy home for him.
For the first time it occurred to her to wonder if he had family looking for him. Maybe, she mused, she shouldn't wait until Tuesday to do something about him. Maybe she ought to go ahead and call the cops.
She vividly remembered the way she'd felt when Steve hadn't come home on time. The night he'd never come home, and she'd opened the door to find a police officer on her doorstep instead of her husband. Even now, a year later, the memory was like a blow to the stomach.
What if James had a wife or a girlfriend who was worried sick about him'
She glanced in her rearview mirror and saw a car coming up over the hill she'd just crested. ”She's really flying,” she said, almost to herself.
James looked at her. ”Flying'”
”Yeah. I think that's my new neighbor behind us. Looks like her car. But the way she's driving--”
The green car accelerated abruptly, almost to her b.u.mper, then suddenly swerved around her as if to pa.s.s. Startled by the incredibly reckless driving, Annie hit the brakes. The other car suddenly swerved again, striking her car from the side.
”s.h.i.+t!” she yelled, struggling to keep the car on the road. To her right was a deep ditch. If they went into it at this speed, they'd flip the car for sure. Her right front wheel went off the road and onto the thin strip of gra.s.s that bordered the asphalt, scaring the living h.e.l.l out of her. Twisting the steering wheel a little too far to the left, she collided with the other car again.
”What the h.e.l.l are you doing'” she shrieked. If another car came in the opposite direction, there would be a very ugly accident. Both cars would likely be in pieces. But she wouldn't be around to see the results, and neither would James.
”Drive faster,” James commanded.
”Are you crazy'” she shrieked. They sped onto the old, narrow bridge, with its flimsy, rusted guardrails, and the car slammed into them again. There was a horrible sc.r.a.ping sound as her car was pushed into the guardrail. Through the grace of G.o.d they made it across the bridge, and she stomped the brake, praying the green car would pa.s.s her. ”Any faster, and we'll--”
”Go faster!”
At the urgency in his voice, she glanced to the side and saw the woman driving one-handed, holding up something in her black-gloved hand and pointing it in her direction.
It was a gun.
It was a weird-looking thing, like nothing she'd ever seen on the cop shows on television, but she had no doubt whatsoever that it was in fact a gun. And it was aimed directly at them.
James was right. If she didn't speed up, the woman would have a clear shot at them. Fighting against her screaming instincts, which demanded that she stop and find a hole to hide in, she downs.h.i.+fted and jammed her foot hard onto the accelerator.
The other driver was taken by surprise as her car zoomed forward, clear of the sedan. But the other car gave chase and rapidly drew up to her econ.o.box. It pulled alongside, and she gave a hasty glance to the left and saw that the woman was shouting something. A moment later the car veered toward them again.
Annie could only think of one thing to do. She turned the wheel hard to the left, and the cars collided. Taken by surprise, the green car's driver lost control of her car, and it skidded across the left lane and off the road. The pa.s.senger side of the sedan slammed into a tree, bringing the car to an abrupt halt.
Annie slowed the car, breathing heavily. ”Don't slow down,” James said.
”There's a big curve up here. Anyway, we really ought to go back and check'”
There was an odd noise and a blue-white flash, and the car shuddered as something struck it a glancing blow. Annie looked in her rearview mirror and saw that the woman, apparently uninjured, had jumped out of the car and was aiming the gun at them.
”My G.o.d, she shot at us!” she exclaimed in shock. In her peaceful suburban existence, she had never so much as seen a gun, let alone had one fired at her. The thought that someone was trying to kill her was utterly unbelievable.
”Faster,” James urged in an impossibly calm voice.
That was definitely good advice, Annie thought. Except for the big curve in front of them. She was likely to roll the car if she went too fast, but if she didn't get her a.s.s out of harm's way, the woman was going to use her for target practice. Another bluish flash burst in front of them, and a burn mark appeared on a tree next to the road. Deciding that speed was the lesser of two evils, Annie stepped on the accelerator hard and twisted the steering wheel.
As they went into the steep curve, the tires began to squeal. The squealing rose in intensity as the tires protested the unaccustomed treatment, and Annie fought the steering wheel as the little car started to skid. She felt the car tilt and knew that the two left tires had lost contact with the asphalt. A scream rose in her throat, but she firmly suppressed it. She was not going to die having hysterics, d.a.m.n it.
As the road straightened out, the tires bounced back onto the asphalt with a grinding thump. Somehow they had made it through the curve without rolling the car. She slowed the car, glancing in her rearview mirror and seeing nothing but empty asphalt. The smashed-up green car was no longer visible. ”I think we lost her,” she said, feeling her heart pounding violently with terror. She had come within a hair's breadth of flipping the car.
James nodded and spoke with unnatural calm. ”For now,” he said.
Reaction was setting in. Unlike James, she was not in the least calm. She felt tears burning in her eyes. ”What the h.e.l.l did she want'” she said in a strangled voice. ”Why was she trying to kill us'”
”She wasn't trying to kill you. You mean nothing to her. She wanted me.”
She remembered the bluish-white flashes she had seen, the way the car had shuddered, and she trembled all over. ”Oh, my G.o.d,” she breathed. ”That was some sort of ray gun. You really are from the future.”
”Of course,” James said, as if it were perfectly obvious. ”And she is hunting for me. She won't stop until she has destroyed me. If she fails or is killed before she can carry out her mission, they will send more agents. I should have realized as much.”
”But she could have killed me!”
”I do not believe she was trying to kill us,” James said in his preternaturally calm tones. ”She was driving like a maniac!” ”We do not have cars in the future, and she is unfamiliar with the operation of a vehicle. I believe she was merely trying to force you off the road. She was shouting for you to pull over.”
Annie remembered the woman shouting at her, although she hadn't been able to hear a word of it. ”But she shot at us.” ”The gun was not set at full intensity. If it had been, we would not be here now.” ”So she's not trying to kill you after all'” ”Her organization intends to kill me,” James said with bleak certainty. ”She intends to kill me. She simply does not wish to alter the past while doing so.” ”Why do they want you'” she whispered. ”Are you some sort of escaped criminal'” ”Yes. That is precisely what I am.” She pulled into her garage, without the slightest memory of how she had gotten there, and turned to stare at him. ”They're trying to kill you,” she said. ”You must have done something terrible. Are you a murderer'” ”Far worse, from their perspective,” James said. ”I tried to free my people. In the effort we did kill some of them. We didn't want to--we did everything we could to avoid it--but it couldn't be helped.”
Annie gulped. The man had killed people. He wasn't a harmless lunatic after all. He freely admitted that he was a killer. And she had invited him into her house, clothed him, and fed him.
She had spent the night under the same roof as a killer. Her heart nearly stopped in her chest. Something he had said echoed in her head. She resisted the urge to fling the door open and run from the car, to run from him, and instead turned to face him. ”What do you mean, you tried to free your people' Were your people at war with them'”
He shook his head slowly, meeting her gaze. ”Not precisely.” ”Then what do you mean' Were you some kind of--of servant'” ”No,” he said softly. ”I was a slave.”
Chapter 4.
Annie stared at him with shock, unable to imagine how this powerful, huge man could have been enslaved. She just couldn't believe it. It was impossible.
She reminded herself that many of the blacks who had been enslaved in antebellum America had been strong, powerful men as well. A man's strength had nothing to do with his ability to resist slavery. Perhaps the society that had enslaved James and his people had possessed superior weapons, or perhaps they had simply outnumbered them.
”Did you succeed'” she asked.
”What do you mean'”
”Did you free your people'”