A Rift In Time E-Book

Christopher Coates

• Herausgeber: Next Chapter
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2023

Beschreibung

A collection of three time travel science fiction novels by Christopher Coates, Gillian Polack & Michael R. Stern, now available in one volume!
Alternate Purpose: In a world devastated by a global pandemic, two scientists develop a radical plan to prevent the catastrophe by sending someone back in time to stop it from happening. But the only person capable of surviving the process is Devin Baker, a man with a troubled past and a dangerous mission ahead. As Devin travels across time, he must face unexpected challenges and confront his own demons to complete his mission. But with the fate of the world on his shoulders, he knows he cannot fail. Will he be able to save the future by altering the past?
Langue[dot]doc 1305: In this time-travel adventure, Professor Luke Mann and his team venture back to 1305 Languedoc with the goal of refining delta T and changing the universe. Medieval historian Artemisia Wormwood accompanies them, but they keep their research a secret from her. With the untested time travel technology and the dangers of altering history, the team explores the village of Saint-Guilhem-le-Desert for nine months, facing many challenges along the way.
Storm Portal: Fritz Russell, a history teacher, finds himself transported back in time to meet General Robert E. Lee after the surrender at Appomattox. Thrilled by the adventure, he soon discovers a mysterious portal that leads to the Oval Office and a new opportunity to serve his country. Hired by the president to help with national security, Fritz faces a perilous task to solve the portal's mystery.

Leseprobe

A RIFT IN TIME

A Time Travel Sci-Fi Novel Collection

CHRISTOPHER COATES

GILLIAN POLACK

MICHAEL R. STERN

Contents

Alternate Purpose

Christopher Coates

Prologue

Part I

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Part II

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Part III

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Part IV

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Epilogue

About the Author

Langue[Dot]Doc 1305

Gillian Polack

Introduction

1. Arithmetic

2. Solving Problems

3. Assembling the Team

4. New Residents in the Languedoc, March 1305

5. Where Nobody Talks

6. The Month of Small Things

7. Memories

8. Shifting Views

9. Sylvia

10. Children all

11. The Traps of Responsibility

12. “I need a friend”

13. Dead Saints and Their Amazing Adventures

14. Colonising

15. Data

16. The Look of Things

17. Interpretations

18. Ethics

19. Plain Sight

20. Introducing Zombie Ancestry

21. Communications of a Kind

22. Badass and Baggage

23. In Case of Trouble

24. The Noise of the Middle Ages

25. A Dialogue of Silence

26. Soul Sorting

27. Lure of the Fair Folk

28. The System is Dynamic

29. Affiliations

30. Places in Time

31. Very Big Children

32. They Had Buildings in the Middle Ages

33. Wild Harvesting

34. Cues

35. Explosions and Desolations

36. Hearing the Music of the Spheres

37. A Dream of Travel and Time

38. Family Matters

39. Companionship

40. Relationships

41. Bitter Truths

42. Being Debonnaire

43. The Hunt

44. Judgements

45. In Town

46. Consequences

47. Catharsis

48. Webs

49. Waiting

50. Endgame

Acknowledgments

About the Author

Storm Portal

Michael R. Stern

Acknowledgments

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Epilogue

About the Author

Copyright (C) 2023 Christopher Coates, Gillian Polack, Michael R. Stern

Layout design and Copyright (C) 2023 by Next Chapter

Published 2023 by Next Chapter

Cover art by CoverMint

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the author's permission.

Alternate Purpose

Christopher Coates

Prologue

FIFTEEN YEARS AGO

A light rain fell, and the moon wasn’t visible because of the heavy cloud cover. The weather was one of the many reasons they’d picked tonight for this mission.

A long row of streetlights illuminated the sidewalk, and the usually busy road had minimal traffic at this time of night.

The bright sign by the building said North East Regional Hospital. About a hundred yards south of the sign was a narrow paved drive.

There, a smaller unlit sign read Authorized Traffic Only. This drive led to a dark alcove between the original building and an addition that was built in the late ’70s.

This area was restricted because no one wanted to see where the hospital kept the dumpsters. Several hedges and a few ornamental trees partially obscured the drive.

Without warning, between two dumpsters, a neon blue light formed. It started about three feet off the ground and grew to about six-feet high and two-and-a-half-feet wide. After the light reached full size, a medium-height woman with an athletic build stepped out of the portal and into the alcove. The light disappeared.

During the six seconds the portal existed, there was a connection between our time period and another, which wouldn’t exist for over a hundred years.

The woman stumbled, grabbed hold of the dumpster, and used it to balance herself. She took several deep breaths to help her focus.

Withdrawing a small device from the pocket of her light blue hospital scrubs, she fumbled with it, then pressed it to her neck. She grimaced because of the brief moment of pain she experienced when the device touched her neck.

A warm feeling passed through her body, allowing her to relax a little. Returning the advanced auto-injector to her pocket, she waited for a few seconds as the four medications took effect. She felt the analgesic and powerful stimulant were working and started walking toward the sidewalk. The anti-nausea drug seemed to help, but not as effectively.

She’d been told that the fourth medication in the injection would slow down the lethal cellular collapse that was destroying her body.

The woman knew she had to get moving. Her auto-injector held only two more doses, and she needed to accomplish her mission before the final one wore off.

Exiting the alcove, she moved to the sidewalk. Turning right, she strode toward the main hospital entrance with growing concern as she advanced. Her nausea seemed to get worse with each step, and she already sensed her strength fading.

Fortunately, she knew the hospital's layout, having studied it well before her mission. The main entrance was ahead, and only a few other people were heading in the same direction as she was.

The woman passed through the glass sliding door and into the lobby. A white-shirted security guard sat at a desk inside. She turned the ID tag that hung from her scrubs, so the guard saw the North East Regional logo and kept walking.

The ID bore the name Abby Russell. That had been a joke by those who’d fabricated the card. Abby Russell was the name of the last person to ever serve as President of the United States.

“Thanks. Have a good shift,” the guard said.

The dying woman continued to walk, thinking how easy it had been. She knew the minimal levels of security were a primary reason for using this time period for the mission.

Making her way to the bank of elevators, she double-checked her knowledge against the sign, which said Maternity was on the fourth floor. As the elevator door closed, she leaned back against the wall as the car started to move.

She closed her eyes, resting and thankful she was alone. The pain continued to increase. Her head hurt the worst, but her gut and extremities also ached, and the pain was intensifying rapidly.

The doors opened, and with considerable effort, she forced herself to walk out of the elevator car and down the hall. She knew she wasn’t walking straight and even felt herself stumbling, but she needed to keep going. She hoped no one would see her and think she was intoxicated.

As per the plan, it was still too soon for another injection. If she took them too soon, she wouldn’t be able to make it back to the portal and home.

Casually, she passed the nurse’s station, noting that one man was seated and working on a computer. Smiling, she was relieved to see the research had been correct and her scrubs matched his. At least her clothing wouldn’t draw attention.

Next down the hall was the infant room. Inside were twelve bassinets, only six of which had babies in them.

A female nurse was in there, changing the diaper of one of the infants. Neither of the staff had paid any attention to the stranger, who confidently walked down the corridor.

She turned left at the end of the hall and found what she was looking for—a door marked Utility. Struggling, she managed to open the door, her dexterity failing, then stepped inside and let it close behind her.

After removing the auto-injector from her pocket, she again pressed it to the side of her neck. The warm feeling returned, and so did her strength and alertness. The pain was somewhat diminished but still significant.

In the room, she saw partially full trash cans and cleaning supplies. Along one wall, there were bins for dirty linens. Moving to the rust-stained utility sink, she inserted the stopper. Next, she removed two sealed packets from her pocket, ripped them open, and dumped the powdered contents into the sink.

Raising the top to her scrubs, she took from her belt two small bottles that were attached on either side. Each held about eight ounces. She unscrewed the caps, took a deep breath, and poured the green liquid over the powder.

The effect was immediate. A sizzling sound and harmless white chemical smoke began filling the utility closet. The sharp, acrid smell of the chemicals mingled with the already present scent of bleach and cleaning supplies.

As she left the room, the pungent odor followed her. The imposter left the door ajar to allow the intensifying chemical smoke to fill the hall. She headed back toward the room with the newborns.

As she approached, the woman stepped into an unoccupied patient room. Moving into the shadows, she waited. After two full minutes, her anxiety grew.

The waiting was taking much too long. The pain was back, almost as bad as right before her last dosage, and her thinking was getting fuzzy.

Eventually, she smelled the smoke as it worked up the hall. She heard concerned voices approaching and watched the woman, and then the man, hurry past her hiding spot, heading for the source of the smoke.

The woman glanced left and right, seeing that the corridor was clear. Crossing over to the nursery, she removed a device the size of a deck of playing cards from her belt and held it at the card reader. The door buzzed open.

Defeating the primitive electronic security had been one of the simplest parts of the mission.

Stepping in, she read the names on the bassinets, looking for Devin Baker.

The first name she saw belonged to a cute infant girl named Tasha Doller, and she recognized this name. Tasha had been the subject of an earlier mission.

Unfortunately, Tasha died in a drowning accident in her early teens before she could ever be of use.

Devin was next to Tasha and was sleeping peacefully.

The trespasser unwrapped him, removed a new single-dose auto-injector from her other pocket, and pressed it to his leg. As rapidly as her shaking hands would allow, she re-wrapped the now-crying infant and left the room.

Stepping out, she walked to the elevator, slipping the expended auto-injector into her pocket. The elevator arrived, and she got in and injected herself for the third and final time. With this injection, the improvement was minimal.

As she exited the elevator, she removed two slips of paper from her pocket. One said succeeded, and the other read failed. Crumpling up the one that indicated failure, she threw it in a trash can she passed and returned the other to her pocket. The planners knew she wouldn’t be in any condition to write a note at this point in the suicide mission.

She approached the exit with almost no strength left and was close to vomiting. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the guard watching her as she walked. There was no doubt he could tell she wasn’t feeling well.

“Going home already?” he asked.

Giving him a weak smile, she said, “I’m not sure what I came down with, but it hit me fast.”

“Well, I hope you’re feeling better.”

Rather than answer, she nodded and kept walking. She exited, and the crisp night air felt good, and she took a deep breath, getting some relief. Making it to the sidewalk, she vomited and recognized the metallic taste of blood. Her stomach felt a little better, and she tried to increase her pace, but her coordination was failing, and she tripped and landed face-down on the sidewalk.

With extreme effort, she used a light pole for balance, got back to her feet, and continued toward the drive that led to the dumpsters.

Feeling something like a tear on her cheek, she wiped it away and noticed it was blood. Bleeding from the eyes and nose were possibilities she knew about.

The dying woman entered the alcove, keeping one hand on the wall of the old building to help steady her balance, and struggled along.

After returning to the dumpster, she leaned against it and took out of her pocket the last item she was carrying. The device had a shape similar to an egg but smaller. Dropping it would be a big problem because she didn’t think she could pick it up and return to a standing position.

The device appeared solid but was actually two pieces. She twisted the top of the egg-shaped device ninety degrees clockwise, and it lit up. It glowed yellow for about five seconds and then turned green.

She squeezed it with all her remaining strength and felt a click from inside it. The neon blue light reappeared and grew to the size of a door.

As her final act, she stumbled through the portal, knowing she’d be dead when she arrived.

The blue light disappeared.

PartI

ChapterOne

CURRENT DAY

It was a warm summer evening, and fifteen-year-old Devin Baker and his best friend, Sawyer Gomez, rode their bicycles north on State Street. They’d just left Hill Side Community Church after attending a youth group event with over thirty other kids and their leaders.

Most weeks, Devin enjoyed the three-mile bike ride. However, he looked forward to next year. Then he’d get his driver’s license, and he’d make this trip driving the blue 1979 Ford Mustang that he and his dad had been restoring for the last year.

After the boys left the church, they stopped at the local convenience store on their way home. The friends came here every week to purchase a snack for the ride back.

The building was small and old, with a faded blue sign above the door, and they parked their bikes near the front, careful not to block the fuel pumps.

As always, Devin headed straight for the refrigerated section, grabbed a tall bottle of sweet iced tea, and then selected a small bag of Doritos. Sawyer went for the ice cream cooler in the back of the store and selected his favorite, a packaged ice cream cone.

The cashier, a plump, balding man with a kind smile, greeted them as they approached the counter.

“I assumed I’d be seeing you two tonight,” he chuckled. “Every Wednesday, the same purchase.”

“No reason to change,” said Sawyer with a grin.

After paying, the boys headed back to their bikes.

With treats in hand, they continued on their way. Sawyer rode with one hand while eating the ice cream. The boys passed through the traffic light and down a long, winding hill. Next, they would pass the pond where kids skated each winter. Their speed increased as the bikes went down the hill.

At the last minute, Sawyer saw a small branch laying in the road in front of him. There was no time to avoid it, and he probably wouldn’t have tried to, even if he’d seen it sooner. It wasn’t big at all.

Upon hitting the branch, his balance was compromised a little. It was not a problem for a teen who was comfortable on his bike, but he’d been paying attention to the ice cream and wasn’t expecting it. Startled, he grabbed for the handlebars with his other hand.

The cone broke and struck his thigh before falling to the ground. With minimal effort, Sawyer regained control and didn’t even slow down.

He was mad that he’d lost his ice cream, which was less than half-finished. Now, his hand was sticky from the snack breaking while he was holding it, and a big gooey splotch stained his pants.

Worst of all, Devin had seen it and found it funny. He said, “Good job! Is this your first time on a bike?”

“Shut up! There was something in the road.”

“That little twig? It looks to me like you don’t know how to ride a bike,” Devin laughed.

Sawyer didn’t respond immediately but pouted because of embarrassment and the loss of his cone.

After a minute, he asked, “Can I have some Doritos? I lost my cone, and I’m hungry.”

“Sure,” Devin answered without a second thought.

Devin accelerated to get next to Sawyer as they approached the curve that went around the pond.

Pulling up next to Sawyer, he held out the bag. It was the same type of handoff the boys had done many times before. Sawyer took the bag and drifted over a little too close to his friend. Devin responded by veering left and over the center line as they went into the curve.

At the same time, a car came around the curve from the opposite direction and also drifted over the centerline.

Before he could react, Devin’s bike hit the car's front corner, throwing him through the air and into the windshield before he tumbled off onto the asphalt.

He remained conscious long enough to feel his left femur snapping in two and his head striking the pavement.

The last thing he heard was the woman screaming through her open window and Sawyer calling his name.

ChapterTwo

The first thing Devin was aware of was being cold. His eyes blinked open to the harsh brightness of a hospital room. White walls, bright fluorescent lights, and the sound of medical equipment beeping and humming surrounded him.

His mother, Lucy Baker, stood at his bedside with worry lines etched on her face and tears in her eyes. Sawyer sat in a nearby chair, his face pale and anxious as he twisted his fingers in his lap.

He closed his eyes, shielding them from the glaring bright light while trying to remember what happened, and it all came back to him instantly. Not only that, but his senses and alertness snapped back to normal.

“Hey, mom,” Devin said while trying to sit up in bed.

“Lay back. You were hit by a car, and you’re in a hospital,” his mother explained.

“I know. I remember it, but I feel fine.”

“Dev, you can’t be fine,” Sawyer said. “Your head bounced off the pavement. There was blood everywhere. And your leg broke. I saw it. The EMS crew put the splint on while you were still lying on the road.”

Standing up, Sawyer moved closer to his friend.

Devin looked down at the leg and said, “I know. I thought so, too, but my leg feels okay.

“Mom, did you call Dad? I don’t want him to come home early because of this.”

“Not yet. He’s supposed to fly home from the conference tomorrow. After we get the report from the doctor, I’ll let him know,” Lucy said.

Devin’s father worked as a chemical engineer and was attending a conference in Vancouver, Canada. He’d left for the event a week before. He had an excellent reputation in his field. As a result, he was frequently asked to speak about industrial solvents. This made Devin very proud of his dad.

The ER physician with a stethoscope draped around her neck and a nurse in purple scrubs walked into the room and slid the privacy curtain out of the way.

“Devin, I’m Doctor Katman. I am glad to see you’re awake. I must say, I didn’t expect to see you conscious so soon.”

The doctor was a middle-aged, medium-height woman with long dark hair pulled back in a ponytail. She wore blue scrubs and a white lab coat with her name embroidered on the front in black letters. Despite her friendly demeanor, there was a hint of worry etched into her features.

“Where are you hurting the worst right now?” the doctor asked.

“I don’t hurt anywhere. But I remember my left leg breaking when the car hit me.”

“Well, now that you’re awake, I’m going to examine you again to find what all is injured.”

As the doctor examined Devin for the second time, the nurse said, “All his vital signs are still normal.”

Nodding, the doctor gently took hold of his leg and removed the splint. Carefully, she pushed and twisted the leg, gradually increasing the force.

“None of that hurts?”

“No.”

“It certainly doesn’t appear to be broken.”

Sawyer stepped closer. “I saw the crash and the leg. It broke. I told this to the paramedics.”

“The EMS crew mentioned it,” said Dr. Katman, “but they didn’t find anything either.”

“There’s no way a leg bends at an angle like it was and isn’t broken,” Sawyer replied adamantly.

The doctor looked at him skeptically, then continued her examination. The only reaction she got from Devin was a slight facial change when she pressed on the teen’s abdomen.

“Did that hurt?”

“No, not pain. It just feels kinda full. Like pressure,” Devin answered.

“Deb, let’s get a portable ultrasound in here. I want to get a look in his belly,” Dr. Katman instructed.

The nurse turned and left the room to get the equipment.

The physician said to Devin and his mother, “So far, everything else looks okay. Since he was knocked out, we’re going to get a CAT scan of his head. There are a few mysteries here.

“While you were unconscious, I examined your head. Your shirt is covered in blood, and there’s matted blood in your hair, but we can’t see where it’s coming from. Neither of us can find a wound, and there’s nothing actively bleeding now. I’d say you and your friend were mistaken about the leg, but I’ll get an X-ray to make sure.”

As she spoke, the nurse wheeled in the ultrasound machine. She raised Devin’s gown and, with gentle hands, applied a cool, slick layer of green gel to his abdomen before firmly placing the probe against his skin. The soft humming of the machine filled the room as it displayed images on its screen.

Doctor Katman stood next to her, with eyes trained on the screen as Deb skillfully maneuvered the probe over Devin’s abdomen. The images appeared in black and white, like a window into his body. Lines and shapes moved across the screen, revealing Devin’s internal organs. When the probe stopped moving, the doctor spoke. “Right there. Okay, there’s quite a bit of blood in your abdomen. I’m surprised it isn’t more painful and that your vitals are so good. We’re going to get you in for a CAT scan of your head and abdomen and an X-ray of the right leg. While that’s happening, I’ll page the trauma surgeon so he can come and review the situation.”

As the doctor left the room, Lucy stepped closer and took hold of her son’s hand. “Are you sure you aren’t in any pain?”

“No, mom. Really, I feel fine. What happened to the girl who hit me? Is she okay?”

“Last I saw, she was talking to the cops,” Sawyer said. “She was kinda hysterical.”

“I remember hearing her screaming before I passed out. If the police return during my CAT scan, please have them let her know that I’m fine.”

A young woman in maroon scrubs entered the room and prepared Devin for the tests.

The paramedics had started an IV on the way to the hospital. She moved the IV bag from the ceiling-mounted hook to a collapsible pole built into the bed. She unhooked the blood pressure cuff and cardiac monitor, unlocked the wheels, and pushed the bed from the room.

The medical assistant rolled Devin to an elevator, where they descended one level. From there, it was a brief trip down a bright hall to the imaging area and through a heavy door that read CT 2.

CT, or computed tomography, is a series of X-rays from multiple angles that allow the inside of the body to be viewed.

They brought the surface of the CT table level with the hospital bed and asked him if he could move over on his own. As soon as they were ready, he purposefully used his left leg and pushed to lift his weight and slide over to the hard surface.

As expected, he experienced no pain from the leg he knew had fractured.

Everyone cleared out of the room so the test could begin. Devin was alone and closed his eyes, thinking about something that had occupied much of his thought over the last month.

Devin remembered back about four weeks ago. He’d been at home and needed to slice up a lime for a meal he was helping his mother prepare. He’d cut it in half and then tried to cut it a second time but wasn’t paying attention.

The blade cut through the lime and right into his palm. He yelped and dropped the knife, feeling the citrus burn his wound.

Hurrying to the sink, he turned on the cold water and stuck his hand under the stream. To this day, he wasn’t sure, but it seemed like the pain stopped just before his palm touched the water.

After a couple of seconds, he pulled his hand out to see how bad the wound was, but couldn’t find anything wrong. There was no trace of the injury. But looking back at the counter, he saw the spilled blood. Devin quickly cleaned up the mess. He wasn’t sure why, but he didn’t want to tell anyone what happened, not even his mother.

His attention returned to the present as they assisted him back to the bed and took him to get an X-ray of his leg. He was confused about what had happened, but there were a couple of things he knew for sure—the leg had broken but was now fine, and whatever had bled into his belly was now healed.

ChapterThree

Three days later, Devin sat in his bedroom. His parents wanted him to take it easy for another day before returning to school.

The CAT scan showed blood in the abdomen but no injuries to any internal organs. Following two days of observation, the trauma surgeon finally deemed him stable enough to be released back home.

The doctors who’d treated him were all confused by what they saw. Devin had enjoyed listening to their theories, and in the end, they told him he’d been extremely fortunate.

Now he sat on his bed, bored and thinking. Something was going on, but he didn’t feel comfortable telling anyone. What would they think? Would people become afraid? Would doctors want to study him? None of this made any sense.

Sawyer knocked at the door and stepped into the room.

“Hey. Your dad said I should come up. He thought you were resting.”

“Not really resting. I’m just bored. My parents think I need to rest, but I feel fine.”

Sawyer walked to the desk and pulled out the chair. He removed the stack of folded laundry from the chair and then sat.

His attention was drawn to something bright red in the trash can, which lay between the bed and the desk, and he realized he was looking at several bloody tissues.

“Did you have a bloody nose?”

There was a long pause. Then Devin said, “No, not a bloody nose.”

Another pause.

“Can you keep a secret?” Devin asked.

“You know I can,” Sawyer answered, sounding offended.

Devin stared at his best friend for several seconds, deciding whether to give up his secret. Finally, he grabbed two tissues from the box on the table. Reaching under the blankets, he withdrew the razor knife he’d concealed when Sawyer came to the door.

“Don’t say anything,” Devin said. “Just watch.”

He slid the blade across the meaty part of his palm, creating a one-inch-long incision.

“What are you doing?” Sawyer’s eyes grew wide.

Devin set the knife down and snatched up the tissues to catch the spilled blood before it fell. He didn’t want his mother to find blood on the bed.

“Just be quiet and watch,” Devin said firmly, holding the wound out so his friend could see it clearly.

In less than five seconds, the incision began closing. In another five seconds, it vanished entirely. The only trace left was the drying blood on his skin.

“I don’t believe it. How’d you do that?” Sawyer asked. The amazement was evident in his voice.

“I have no idea how.”

“So, this is new?” Sawyer asked.

“No, this wasn’t the first time something strange like that happened,” Devin confessed. “About a month ago, I had this cut on my hand from slicing a lime, but the wound just disappeared.”

Sawyer’s eyes widened. “Disappeared? How’s that even possible?”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to figure out,” Devin replied, his voice tinged with frustration. “I didn’t tell anyone about it because it seemed too crazy.”

Nodding, Sawyer asked, “Nothing happened like this before a month ago?”

“Before then, I don’t know. It seems like I heal quickly from minor injuries. But nothing like this until recently.” Devin thought for a moment, then added. “When I was younger, I needed stitches after a skateboard crash. A couple of weeks later, they took the stitches out, and the wound was still open a little. So, I haven’t always been like this.”

“This is amazing. Do you feel different?”

“I don’t think so. I’m just confused. We both know my leg was broken. I felt it, and you saw it. By the time I woke up, it was completely fine. I don’t know what to think.”

After a moment, Sawyer said to his friend, “Do it again.”

“Do what?

“Your hand. Cut it again. Now that I know what to expect, I want to see it again.”

Devin grabbed the tissues and the knife and repeated his demonstration, going deeper and opening a longer incision this time. The outcome was the same. In less than ten seconds, there was no trace of the wound.

“Amazing. Did it hurt?

“Sure, for a few seconds. It felt like any cut you get. But then it stopped, and I felt it closing,” Devin explained.

“It’s like you’re immortal! That’s so awesome.”

“No, I’m not immortal. Remember how I was knocked out for a while? And you saw how messed up my leg was after the crash. My bones were broken for at least several minutes. If someone shot me in the head or heart, I’d be gone long before I had time to heal. I’m not some superhero. I just heal really fast,” Devin explained.

He needed to calm Sawyer’s excitement. He may have shared the secret, but he still wanted to keep this strange situation quiet.

After a pause, Sawyer asked, “Can you do anything else?”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. Like, start fires with your mind, move objects, or maybe even fly? Can you read minds?”

Devin thought about it and answered, “I hadn’t thought about it. I guess I might be able to do other things.”

“Let’s try,” Sawyer said enthusiastically. “Can you tell me what I’m thinking?”

After a minute, Devin looked his friend in the eyes and said, “I’m not getting anything.”

“When you look in my eyes, what’s the first thing you think I might be thinking about?”

Devin tried again and said, “Ice cream.”

“You did it! That’s what I was thinking!”

“Sawyer, ice cream is all you ever think about. You always want ice cream.”

“Okay, try again. I’ll think something more random.”

Both boys tried for over half an hour but never reproduced the first lucky guess.

Devin shook his head. “I can’t read minds. This isn’t working.”

“Okay, try moving something with your mind. Push that pencil off the edge of the desk.”

Devin gave his friend a doubtful look, then focused on the pencil. Closing his eyes, he pushed with his mind, but nothing happened. He tried for several minutes before giving up.

“Sorry, buddy, but it looks like healing is all I can do.”

Sawyer nodded. “One last thing. Can you un-heal?”

“What’s un-heal?” Devin asked.

“Well, if you can heal, can you do the opposite? Can you open a wound on yourself?”

“Why would I want to do that?”

“Just to see if you can.”

Devin looked at his friend for a few seconds and then nodded. He focused his attention on the meaty part of his forearm, and the skin and underlying muscle split wide. Both boys jumped up.

“I don’t believe it!” Sawyer said.

They watched as the wound closed and disappeared.

“You actually did it! This is amazing.”

Devin glanced at his arm and then at his friend. “I’m not sure what good that is. Batman is very strong. Superman can fly. Me—I can make myself bleed.”

“Have you told your parents about this yet?”

“No. I think they’ll freak out. I’m sure they wouldn’t agree to keep it a secret. They’d want me to see a doctor to see if there’s something wrong, and I’m not ready for that yet. You can’t tell anyone, Sawyer.”

He nodded. “I won’t. So, now what?”

“What do you mean?”

“You have this gift… or ability. What are you going to do with it?”

Devin had been trying to find an answer to that question since he’d arrived home from the hospital.

ChapterFour

FIVE YEARS LATER

Devin’s dark blue Mustang crept along the treacherous winter road. The thick, heavy snow pelted against the windshield, obscuring his visibility and making the drive almost impossible.

After a long night of relentless storming, the early morning air had turned warmer, causing the once pristine snow to start melting and leaving behind a dangerously slick surface.

Sawyer sat in the passenger seat, excited for what the day promised to bring. Both boys were home from college on their Christmas break and were headed to meet some friends they hadn’t seen since the end of summer.

Devin and Sawyer had been attending different colleges for the last two and a half years, but when they got together, their bond was as close as ever. The boys looked forward to sharing their college adventures when they had the chance to catch up.

This time was no different. Last night, the boys had been up until 2:00 a.m. hanging out, eating pizza, and talking about all they’d been doing.

Sawyer asked how things were going with Devin and his girlfriend, Britany. As he listened to Devin’s account, it was obvious that things were becoming more serious between them.

They’d reluctantly stopped their discussion and gone to bed when they realized how late it had become. The boys had to be up early because they had plans to meet six other high school friends for breakfast.

The boys were now heading to Malcolm Daniele’s house. Before changing careers, Malcolm’s dad had spent many years as a chef and always loved putting on a big feast for his son and his friends.

The boys noticed movement just ahead to the right. It was hard to tell exactly what they saw with the snow falling, but it looked like a floating human head. With a sudden burst of movement, a figure in white lunged at the Mustang. Devin’s heart leaped into his throat as he fought to keep the car under control while swerving and braking to avoid hitting the mysterious person.

“Watch out!” Sawyer shouted, his voice laced with panic.

Finally, coming to a stop, the scene became clearer. It was a woman dressed in nothing but a white bathrobe and slippers. Her form was almost entirely invisible, except for her head, because of all the snow.

Her wild hair, caked with matted snow, hung around her face, and her eyes flickered with fear as she stumbled towards the car. She screamed at them, but they couldn’t hear her while inside the vehicle.

Devin’s first thought was to get away from this crazy woman. At the same time, he was discounting this idea; he noticed the smell of smoke.

“What are you doing?” Sawyer yelled at the woman as he got out of the car. “We could’ve hit you!”

Devin came around the front of the vehicle and saw the woman was only wearing slippers and her bathrobe. She was so hysterical they couldn’t understand her.

“Slow down,” Devin said. “We can’t understand what you’re saying.”

The smell of smoke was stronger now and seemed to be coming from a house tucked back in the trees.

“My house, it’s on fire! My daughter is inside! Please help. Megan’s inside!”

Sawyer and Devin locked eyes briefly and then sprinted toward the house in the woods.

Pulling his phone from his pocket, Sawyer yelled back at the woman, “Did you call the fire department?”

“Yes, they’re coming. But my Megan, she’s still in there.” The distraught woman answered.

As the boys approached the house, they saw thick white smoke billowing out of the eves on the second floor.

They bolted up the stairs to the wraparound porch. The smoke was thicker here, and as Sawyer and Devin glanced into the house through the slider, they couldn’t see much because of it. An orange glow seemed to dance around in the thick smoke.

Sawyer grabbed the handle and yanked the glass sliding door, but it didn’t move. The woman was catching up. She’d slipped and fallen twice on the way to the house because her slippers had no tread, and the ankle-deep snow was quite slick.

“That door is locked!” she shouted.

Sawyer headed off the porch to find another door when Devin called him.

“Stay here,” he instructed Sawyer.

Devin then looked at the woman. “Where is she?”

“She was upstairs in her room!”

Devin backed away from the door about eight feet, sprinted at it, and leaped into it with all his strength. The glass exploded.

With a painful crash, he fell into an end table he hadn’t seen because of all the smoke. He felt the glass tear into his arm and left cheek.

He collapsed to the ground as his right ankle rolled. Severe pain racked his body, caused by the impact with the door and the ankle roll, but he had no time to lie there. After leaping to his feet, he moved on, and the pain was already gone.

He yelled for the girl, but the smoke alarms were blaring, and he knew he wouldn’t hear it if she answered. Soon, he was hacking and choking. He was amazed at how hot the house was as he forced himself to move forward.

As he approached the stairs, he could see a little better. There was much more fire here, and it provided some illumination, revealing the destruction before him.

A large section of the ceiling had collapsed, creating a maze of debris that blocked his path.

Carefully reaching out, Devin moved some burning wood, gritting his teeth against the searing pain that shot through his hands. He shoved away a large sheet of fallen drywall at the stairs and saw a small child underneath.

Blood matted her hair and stained her clothes, and large gashes on her head and arm bled steadily. She lay completely still, her tiny chest barely rising with each shallow breath.

Devin felt the fire burning his flesh and searing his lungs every time he inhaled, and he desperately wanted to get out of this inferno. After getting down on the floor, he noticed the air was much cooler and less smoky.

Grabbing the orange blanket out of the girl’s hand, Devin covered her with it to protect her from the heat.

He scooped her up and hurried for the door. Devin moved as fast as he could, holding his breath as he forced himself to go through a wall of flames. He didn’t know if the girl was still breathing. Hopefully, an ambulance was on the way.

Sawyer saw his best friend step back onto the deck. Most of his hair and a lot of his clothing had burned away.

In his arms was a small body wrapped in a smoldering blanket. Sawyer watched as hideous burns and blisters on Devin’s face disappeared.

The two boys lowered the blanket-wrapped form to the ground and unwrapped the girl. Sawyer was trying to remember the differences in how to perform CPR on a child, but it wasn’t coming to him now with all the excitement. They both were relieved as they heard the sirens growing louder.

The girl looked to be about eight years old, and her head and arm were gushing blood. The boys were relieved to see her chest rising and falling. She wasn’t breathing more than eight times per minute, but she was breathing.

The boys crouched over her, and her mother was crying hysterically. Devin placed one hand on the girl’s forehead and the other under her neck to open her airway so she could breathe better. Her body became stiff for a couple of seconds, and the boys watched as the ugly wound on her arm closed up and disappeared. She started breathing more deeply, and in a few more seconds, her eyes opened.

Devin let go of her and stared at the child, amazed at what he’d witnessed. Pointing at her head, he gave Sawyer a questioning look.

From his angle, Sawyer saw the wound better. He moved the girl’s bloody hair and examined the scalp, then looked at Devin with wide eyes and mouthed the word, ‘Gone’.

Once the shock of what he’d seen passed, Devin said, “I think she’ll be okay, Mom. Come see.”

Still crying, the woman dropped to her knees and took the girl, who sat up in her mother’s arms.

ChapterFive

Devin and Sawyer stepped off the porch and moved away from the house. The firefighters were arriving, and the boys didn’t want to be in the way.

Sawyer started to say something as they walked, but Devin gave a firm wave of his hand. He wanted to be sure no one might overhear their conversation. They stepped under a tall cedar tree away from all the action unfolding at the house.

“Did you know that would happen?” Sawyer said.

“No! Of course not. I was as surprised as you.”

“Did it just happen, or did you have to tell it to somehow?”

“I wasn’t even thinking about healing. I touched her, and it was as automatic as when I heal myself. It happened,” Devin answered.

“Did you feel anything passing between you and her?” Sawyer asked. His questions were rapid, leaving Devin little time to answer.

Devin paused and thought back. “There was something. I’m not sure what. It felt like something left me, but I wasn’t weak or drained. I was shocked at what was happening.”

Sawyer shook his head. “This is amazing. What about you? Looking at your clothes, you should be badly burned. But you’re okay, right?”

“It was horribly painful. I felt my flesh burning, but it was healing almost as fast. I certainly seem to heal much faster than before.” He paused, then said, “Let’s try to get out of here. With so much of my clothing burned away, I’m freezing. Let’s go back to the Mustang and get back on the road before anyone wants to ask us some questions.”

“Yeah. Good idea, let’s go.”

The boys headed to the driveway and followed it toward the street. Walking past two fire trucks, the pair stepped over several hoses of different sizes. They were almost to the road when someone approached them from behind.

They stopped and turned and saw a tall, uniformed police officer approaching.

“Boys, please hold up a minute.”

“Did we do something wrong, officer?” Sawyer said.

“Wrong? Certainly not. From what I heard, it sounds like you’re heroes. But I have some questions to ask you.”

“Can I go to my car and grab a jacket first?” Devin said. “I’m freezing.”

The officer looked closer at Devin and said, “Are you hurt? You look like you’ve been burned.”

Devin answered, “No, I wasn’t hurt.”

“I want the medics to look at you before you leave.”

“Really, I’m fine. I just want to get my coat on,” Devin insisted.

“How about while your friend goes and gets the jacket, you and I walk over to the ambulance and get you looked at?”

“Go on, Dev. I’ll get your jacket and meet you there,” Sawyer offered.

Reluctantly, Devin followed the officer. He didn’t want to act like he had something to hide, nor did he want all this attention.

The police officer swung open the ambulance's back doors and beckoned for Devin to step inside. The warmth of the vehicle enveloped him, providing some relief from the cold winter air. But as he squeezed in with the two paramedics and Megan’s mother, it felt crowded.

In the center of it all, the young girl was lying on the stretcher with everyone else surrounding her.

She was sitting up, and other than the blood and soot-stained clothes, she looked healthy.

Her mom grabbed hold of Devin’s arm. “Are you okay? You saved her. Thank you!”

Unsure how to respond, he said, “I’m glad she’s doing better.”

Looking at Megan, he asked. “Are you okay?”

“Yes. I keep telling them I’m fine, and they keep looking for something wrong,” the child said with a sigh.

A short, stocky female medic moved next to Devin and asked, “Where are you hurting?”

“I’m fine, too. No problem.”

“Most of your clothes have been burned off. You must have some burns.”

Devin pulled off the remains of the long-sleeved t-shirt and stood, turning in a circle.

“I was lucky. I didn’t get burned.”

The medic took a small wet towel and cleaned some of the soot from his skin.

She appeared confused while looking at his arm.

“There’s blood here,” she said as she scrubbed the area with the towel, finding healthy, intact skin.

To her partner, she said, “It’s like on the girl. There’s blood but no injury.”

The other medic looked up from the laptop he was typing on and said, “That doesn’t make sense. There has to be an injury somewhere.”

Sawyer opened the ambulance's back door and saw how crowded it was, so he said, “I have your jacket and a shirt I found in the backseat. I’ll wait out here.”

Handing over the clothing, he shut the door

Devin put them on and said, “Thanks for checking me over. Can I go now?”

“Just a minute. I need to get some information for our report, and we want to check your vitals and listen to your lungs.”

Five minutes later, Devin stepped out and confirmed with the officer that they could leave. Sawyer had provided all the information the officer had needed.

The boys started for the car and were again interrupted by someone coming up behind them. This time, it was the little girl’s mother.

“Please wait,” she said. “I need to thank you both again.”

Hugging each boy, she said, “I don’t know what I’d have done if she hadn’t made it.” She’d started crying again.

Devin put his hand on her shoulder and said, “I’m glad we were here and able to help.”

Taking both boys by the arm, she pulled them closer and looked behind her to see if they were alone.

“I know I was hysterical, but I also know what I saw. Your face was terribly burned one moment, and then it miraculously healed. And the spot where the medics found blood on Megan’s arm. It was ripped wide open when you unwrapped her from the blanket. I looked away because it was so gruesome. I couldn’t stand to see the injury to my little girl. When I looked back, the arm was fine. I know this sounds crazy. That’s why I said nothing to the paramedics.”

Devin nodded. “Like I said, we’re glad we could help you and your daughter. Will you now do me a favor?”

“Anything.”

“Never tell anyone what you saw. People will think you’re crazy.”

Holding up his index finger, all three watched as the fingertip split wide open and then closed up again. Looking at the shocked woman, he moved the same finger to his lips, in the universal sign to keep a secret.

Devin winked at her, and the two boys walked to the car and drove away.

ChapterSix

Sawyer shut his car door and burst out laughing. “I can’t believe you did that. Did you see the look on her face? Her eyes were open so wide they could’ve fallen out.”

“I know. It was a stupid thing to do, but it seemed like a good idea at the moment,” Devin said, joining in the laughter.

“I was almost as shocked as she was. All I keep hearing from you is how it has to stay a secret, and then you do that. You haven’t even told Britany, and you think you’re in love with her. Was this really the first time you healed someone else?”

“It was. I never even thought it might be possible. I was as surprised as you.”

Devin started the engine, and the boys continued on their journey. Sawyer pulled out his phone and called Malcolm. He wanted to let him know they were still on the way, even though the boys were almost an hour late, and to make sure they saved some food.

“Have you still not told your parents about this?” Sawyer asked.

“No, I haven’t. I don’t know how they might take it.”

“After what we saw today, I think it’s probably time to tell them,” Sawyer advised.

“I guess I should. I’ll think about it.”

The snow had let up, so Devin drove faster. Up ahead was an elementary school whose parking lot was empty because of the Christmas break.

“Dev, pull over in that parking lot for a minute.”

“The lot isn’t plowed, and I don’t want to get stuck in the snow. We’re late enough already.”

“The snow isn’t that deep. You’ll be fine.”

Devin slowed the car. “Why? I’m hungry, and we’re way late. They better have saved us some food.”

“I want to try something.”

Devin didn’t say anything else, suspecting where this was heading.

After the car stopped, Sawyer unfastened his seatbelt and dug a small folding Barlow knife out of his pants pocket. His father gave him it as a gift years ago, and he always carried it with him.

Slipping his arm out of his sweatshirt, he opened the blade and put the edge against the meaty part of his forearm. He tried to make a small cut.

Several times, he tried but found he couldn’t bring himself to slice into his arm. Sawyer had accidentally cut himself with this same knife several times over the years, but to do it intentionally was a different matter.

After watching his friend try several times to cut his skin, only to stop at the last second, Devin shook his head.

“Are you going to do this, or can we go eat?” he asked.

“This isn’t as easy as it looks. How about you do it?”

He tried to hand the knife to Devin.

Devin pulled his hands back. “I’m not cutting you. No way! And you better not get blood on my seat.”

Sawyer returned his focus to his arm, and after concentrating for several seconds, he jabbed the point into his skin and created a tiny puncture. It was so small it wouldn’t even require a bandage.

Devin started laughing. “Really? Is that the best you could do?”

Sawyer said nothing and held out his arm. Devin touched his friend’s hand. Both boys felt something, and then the tiny incision was gone.

“What was it like?” Devin said.

“There was movement in the wound, the incision closing. At the same time, there was an immediate end to the pain. It all happened so fast.”

Devin smiled. “It had to happen fast. That cut was so small it would’ve healed on its own in another minute or two.”

“How about you? What did it feel like?”

Devin thought again, saying, “It was the same as last time. It was as if something left me but was immediately replaced. Even though the injury was much smaller this time, it felt the same. It was a warm sensation, if that makes sense. Not at all unpleasant. If that’s all, can we go now?”

“Let’s try one more thing first. Try the un-heal.”

“You need to come up with a better term. So, you want me to split open your skin?”

“Sure. We know you can do it to yourself. Let’s see if it works on someone else,” Sawyer explained.

“So, where do you want it? On your throat?” Devin smiled.

Sawyer shook his head. “No, I don’t think so. My arm is fine.”

He held out his arm to his friend.

Devin focused on the idea of splitting open the skin and touched a spot on Sawyer’s arm. Instantly, a massive wound burst open. It was far more extensive than either boy expected. It was over four inches long and quite deep.

Devin lurched back, banging his head on the driver’s side window, and Sawyer screamed. Devin recovered and grabbed the arm at the elbow. The horrendous mess of bleeding flesh started closing, and in seconds, it was gone. Both boys were breathing hard from the shock of what happened.

“Did you mean for it to happen like that?” Sawyer asked.

Devin shook his head, still in shock over what he’d done.

“I guess it’s good that you stayed away from the throat. My head might have been severed,” Sawyer joked.

Devin didn’t react to the humor but said, “Can we get going now?”

ChapterSeven

Devin drove the Mustang up the freshly plowed driveway that led to the two-story house, which belonged to Malcolm Daniels and his family. There were seven other cars parked in the driveway, and the boys recognized four of them as belonging to the Daniels family.

Devin parked, and they headed to the door. Sawyer rapped on the door, and it swung open to reveal Scott Daniels, Malcolm’s father.

“Boys, glad you finally made it,” he said, smiling warmly at them. “We saved food for you.”

“Thank you!” Devin and Sawyer said in unison.

As they stepped into the house, Scott’s eyes flickered with concern. “Was it the weather? You didn’t get stuck, did you?” he asked, noticing their disheveled appearance.

“No, nothing like that,” Devin replied.

Scott added, “What’s that smell?”

The pair entered the crowded dining room, and their five best friends, who they hadn’t seen in months, greeted them with loud shouts and waves.

“Glad you finally made it,” Tony Jiffers said.

Another boy jabbed, “Devin, I thought you could drive in the snow. What happened? You’re almost an hour late.”

“Dev, what happened to your hair?” Malcom asked.

The lighthearted comments came from many of the boys until the smell Malcolm’s father noticed hit the others.

“Dang, guys. You smell like a burning dumpster,” Malcolm said. “What happened?”

The group became quiet, realizing there was more to this than simple tardiness, and they wanted to hear the story.

Devin had been thinking about what to tell them and decided to leave most of the details out so as not to make a big deal of the situation. He hoped Sawyer would know to go along.

Devin answered, “Back on 34th Street, about a mile south of the elementary school, there was a house fire. We tried to help the lady before the fire department got there. We ended up in a bunch of smoke, and it’s all in our clothes and hair.”

“Wow, was anyone hurt?” Scott asked.

Sawyer answered, destroying Devin’s attempt to keep the excitement from the story. “No, and only because Devin ran into the burning house and rescued a little girl! He lost his hair, and it’s a miracle he wasn’t burned.”

He gave Devin a conspiratorial smile.

Devin shook his head and replied, “It wasn’t a big thing. Anyone would’ve done the same thing.”

“Sure sounds like a big thing to me,” Tony said, and the others agreed.

“Sounds like you’re a hero,” said Don Swain.

“Guys, it wasn’t such a big thing,” Devin said as he gave Sawyer a glare that told the other boy to let the story drop.

“Devin, sorry man, but you stink real bad,” Malcolm said. “You and I were always about the same size. Let’s go upstairs. You shower, and I’ll dig out some clothes you can borrow.”

Agreeing, Devin answered, “Sounds great. There better still be some food here when I get back.”

As they headed upstairs, Devin asked, “Where’s Tracie today?”

Tracie was Malcolm’s sister. She was two years younger than the boys but still hung out with them.

“She had her wisdom teeth cut out yesterday and was in a bunch of pain but refused to take the pain meds. After being up all night and miserable, mom made her take the pills a few hours ago, and she finally fell asleep.”

They headed to Malcolm’s room, and Devin got a T-shirt and a pair of jeans.

“I can give you some socks and underwear, too, if you want. But I won’t want them back.”

“Thanks, but I’ll make do with what I have. Can I get a bag to put these old clothes in?”

Devin went to take a shower, and Malcolm found him an old plastic bag from the grocery store.

After scrubbing his body several times, he washed the mangled remains of his hair twice.

While showering, he thought of the implications of the morning’s events. He now had an ability he could do something positive with.

He’d considered going into some kind of ministry to help people. God had given him this gift, and he might be able to use it to serve others.

Devin stepped out of the steaming shower, feeling rejuvenated, and wrapped himself in the plush towel that Malcolm had given him.

After re-dressing, he exited the bathroom with his bag of old clothes.

As he made his way down the hallway, he paused at the closed door to Tracie’s room. He quietly opened it and stepped into the darkened room. The only light came from a crack in the curtains, casting a dim glow on the sleeping figure in the bed. Devin approached carefully, taking slow steps to avoid disturbing Tracie’s rest.

Even though there wasn’t much light, there was still enough to see the bruising and swelling that remained from the removal of the impacted wisdom teeth. Reaching down, he gently touched the exposed forearm of his younger friend and felt as if something had left him but was immediately replaced.

He watched in wonder as Tracie’s facial swelling shrank away and the bruising faded.

Devin turned and left the room. He was concerned someone would find him in her bedroom and misunderstand his reason for being there.

After descending the stairs, Malcolm’s mother met him, holding up a pair of electric hair clippers.

“Hi, Devin. I hear you had some excitement this morning,” she said.

“Yeah, it’s been a crazy day, and I haven’t even had breakfast.”

He heard a door opening upstairs.

“You go eat, and then I’ll get the mess on your head a little more presentable.”

Agreeing, Devin said, “Thanks. That sounds good.”

Devin continued to the kitchen, and a cheerful female voice from upstairs called, “Hey, Mom! Guess what!”