Part 84 (1/2)

The article ended with an appeal for an end to violence against women. I closed my eyes, picturing Sheila's bruised body beneath my lids.

I was unafraid of the black spiders for the first time in a while. It had been an irrational fear. The black spiders had disappeared since I'd returned to the main timeline a week ago. But still, I dreaded them.

I heard the screech of the brakes of the bus as it pulled up to the stop. I wearily climbed to my feet, fis.h.i.+ng a token from my front pocket. I dropped it into the coin box with a jingle.

I sat down near the middle of the bus and stared idly up at the advertis.e.m.e.nts. With a shock, I saw Christi. Her pretty hands held a chocolate bar, an Oh Henry. I could hardly read the sign, my whole body was shaking so hard.

I forced my eyes from the ceiling and glanced around the bus. A beautiful woman, perhaps twenty-five sat across from me quietly reading a book and jerking as the bus hastily stopped for the next pa.s.senger. Her hair was red and flowing. She reminded me a little of Elizabeth. Sensing my eyes on her, she lifted them from the book and smiled at me. I smiled back and looked away.

I was tempted to stop time. I almost invoked the formulae. Just for a moment. I could have her, if I really wanted to. But I still needed to rest. I knew that. Those black spiders weren't pleasant. It shouldn't take long to recover my temporal energy, not according to my calculations, but I wasn't sure a week would suffice. I resisted the temptation.

I let my mind wander a little, remembering the girls, the timeline, the freedoms. I wanted to go back. Perhaps I would someday.

I kept seeing the girls everywhere I went. A flash of blonde and a pet.i.te build and I saw Amy in a crowded mall. But Amy was probably back where ever she was from, long gone from the hotel room where I'd taken her. A flash of red and a long trim form, Elizabeth would smile from a cas.h.i.+er booth or from across a bus aisle. Jane would pa.s.s by on a crowded sidewalk, I'd turn to say h.e.l.lo, but she would be gone replaced by some teen bouncing happily along oblivious to my notice. And Christi, she appeared more than the others. A tall blonde striding down a set of stairs, beautifully clothed. I could see right through her clothing, and yet I couldn't. At the last moment, I'd see her face and realize that the woman wasn't Christi after all.

I had seen them, but I hadn't. Sheila, in truth, was the only girl I really knew what she was doing. And the advertis.e.m.e.nt, up there, featuring the girl who had begged me to find her on the real timeline. The girl I'd only discovered was a model in the last few hours of the timeline.

I swallowed heavily, and prayed that the bus ride wouldn't be very long.

A familiar quiet laugh turned my head. A flash of brunette near the back of the bus. I held my breath, shaking my head. The girls were gone. I would never acknowledge them, even if I did see them for real. I couldn't. And I wouldn't. Even if it was her this time, it was immaterial, no matter how much my heart ached.

She turned, Jane's face flas.h.i.+ng across my visual line of sight. This time, it was real, not a product of an overactive and hopeful imagination.

Her face - none of the fake Janes had had Jane's face. She was sitting alone, reading quietly near the back of the bus. She was reading something funny, her smile easy and light on her lips. I closed my eyes and when I'd reopened them she had returned to facing away from me. But it had been Jane's face whereas all the others were not. I was sure of it. This wasn't just a pa.s.sing resemblance.

I tensed and let my breath out slowly. I had to force myself to stay in my place. Not get up and sit near her, ask her if she remembered anything, remembered any of the slave talk she was so good at, remembered anything she had done, anything she had loved.

She turned back to her book, oblivious to my knowledge of her. Oblivious to me noticing her. She was used to being noticed.

The bus pulled into a stop. I had no idea where I was any longer.