The Time Node

Across the yard, white emergency vans from different cities rolled through security gates.

Their rear doors opened at loading docks.

Forklifts moved forward carrying shrink-wrapped pallets.

Daniel frowned.

Then he understood.

Human shapes beneath clear polymer.

Bodies laid in rows, drugged and breathing slowly.

Men. Women. Teenagers.

Tagged and stacked.

He stumbled back from the windshield.

“No…”

A forklift passed close to his cab.

As it did, something hit him like static through bone.

Fear.

Hundreds of minds dulled by chemicals, still awake somewhere deep inside.

A woman screaming without sound.

A child trying to remember his own name.

Someone praying.

Someone begging for one more chance.

Daniel dropped to his knees.

The harmonica hanging from the steering column began to tremble.

Another pallet rolled by.

This time he felt recognition.

Someone inside knew him.

Then the yard loudspeakers came alive.

Recovered asset Ryder-Unit has returned.

Prepare cargo reassignment.

Daniel looked up slowly.

“They’re loading people,” he whispered.

The cab doors burst open, and two men in security uniforms stepped inside.

One of them said, “Daniel Ryder, you’re coming with us.”

They marched him across the yard, up a flight of metal stairs, and into a windowless room overlooking the warehouse floor.

A large mirror covered one wall.

Inside the room stood a steel table and two chairs.

Daniel was shoved into one of them.

Across from him sat a man in a dark uniform, hands folded on the table, his back to the mirror.

The door shut behind them.

For a long moment, no one spoke.

Daniel leaned back and studied the man’s blank expression.

Finally he said, “I give up. What do you want?”

The man’s mouth twisted.

“Fool,” he said. “You are a time node to be controlled.”

Daniel said nothing.

“You are not going to escape this time,” the man continued, “and you are not going to destroy the reactor coolant pump like before. We have replaced many of the control boards you smashed.”

A chill moved through Daniel.

Before he could answer, the door flew open.

A second guard rushed in, eyes wide.

“Look out!” he shouted. “He hits you in the face!”

Daniel blinked once.

Then he took the advice.

He surged forward and drove his fist into the seated man’s jaw.

The man toppled backward, chair clattering as he struck the floor.

Daniel spun and seized the guard at the door by the collar.

He slammed the man’s head against the concrete wall.

The guard sagged instantly and slid to the floor.

Daniel bolted into the hallway.

He looked left.

Right.

Then ran for the red door marked EXIT.

He hit the stairwell, taking the steps three at a time, and burst onto a loading dock below.

Rows of pumps lined the platform, sucking water through thick canvas hoses that disappeared into another warehouse. The water was cooling a small portable reactor powerful enough to twist time.

One pump had an electronic control board bolted to its frame.

Daniel yanked at it.

The panel tore loose halfway.

He stopped.

If he stole it, they would just replace it.

So he grabbed both sides and twisted hard.

The board ripped free from the socket.

A bright blue flash exploded in his hands.

Smoke burst upward.

He hurled the burning board into the dark water below.

Suddenly Daniel was back in the mirrored room.

One guard leaned over him, trying to tie his hands.

Daniel drove his forehead into the man’s face.

The guard cried out and crashed backward to the floor.

Daniel sprang from the chair and threw a hard left cross into the second guard’s jaw. The punch spun him sideways before he dropped.

Daniel bolted toward the exit.

Then he stopped.

Every instinct screamed at him to run through that door.

Instead, he turned and yanked open the door on the far side of the mirror.

Inside was a smaller control room. Banks of screens glowed above a complex panel—similar to the one hidden inside the semi.

A guard sat frozen at the controls.

Beside him stood a thin man in a dark suit.

“You are supposed to go to the exit,” the man said calmly.

Daniel grabbed a chair and swung it like a club.

The metal legs smashed into the suited man, dropping him to the floor with a groan.

Daniel wheeled and swung again at the guard.

The man ducked aside.

The chair exploded across the control panel in a shower of sparks and shattered glass.

Lights blinked out.

Alarms began to scream.

The guard stared in shock at the ruined machine.

Daniel snatched the broken chair frame and brought it down across the man’s back, driving him to the floor.

Then Daniel ran into the hallway—away from the exit.