Sentience Of Time – Chapter V
The following story is a work of fiction and is 100 percent original work. I will be publishing a chapter per week on Saturdays, which can be viewed right here on redOrbit Blogs / Sci-Fi Saturday. I have always been interested in writing science fiction and this is a step toward realizing my dreams. I hope you enjoy this serial novel a chapter at a time!
Chapter V: Running Out of Time
The morning sun began to peer through a crack in the boarded up window on the wall behind the beat up sofa where Jazz sat. She stared at the communicator in her hand, contemplating making the call to the council. She turned it on the side and checked the digital timer – 04:24:18
Jazz moved her hand over the top side of the communicator. She sat it down on the sofa beside her and waited for the small screen to pop up over the box. As the box shuddered and made a few bleeps and blips, Jazz poked at it.
“Hmm, that’s odd!” she remarked to herself quietly. “Why did that happen?”
She fondled the box, shaking it gently. “It can’t be broken. Everything else on it is working.”
Jazz moved her hand over the box top once again and after a few moments the box shuddered once again and shut off. Jazz shook the box a little harder and played with a few other buttons found on one side of the box. She frantically pressed buttons hoping something would cause the top display to open, but nothing. She placed it on the sofa and stood to her feet. Jazz walked over to the entryway and peered out into the open field.
In the distance Jazz thought she could make out what looked like a vehicle of some kind at the edge of the field near the woods. Some morning dew had begun to lift off the ground and made it difficult to see clearly. She watched carefully, hoping to see some sign of life before making any other sudden move. She slowly slipped out of the doorway to get a look around the corner of the cabin. Everything was eerily quiet and nothing seemed out of place besides the light-colored object in the distance.
Jazz thought perhaps it would be best to move back into the woods where she would be more out of the line of sight of any persons. It was possible that being in the cabin would make it difficult to escape if anything happened suddenly.
As Jazz turned to step back into the cabin a sudden rush of air caught her backside and she felt a hand on her arm. As her face swept around to meet the hand she realized that she made a grave mistake in moving to the abandoned hideout. She looked at the rugged hand on her arm, and slowly, as if time had slowed to a crawl, her eyes move up to the brown sleeve and onto the chest area of a man standing before her.
A badge caught her attention on the chest of this well-constructed man. She caught the letters P L A T T and the numbers 6 6 8 7. Her eyes steadily moved up to the neck and then to the face. As her eyes met his time seemed to catch up to them. She tried to pull her arm back but his grasp was too tight. Jazz pulled her leg up and braced it against the side of the cabin wall and tried to push off and away from the man, but he reached for her leg with his free hand and pulled her away from the wall.
“Stop resisting,” the man called out in an enforcing voice. “Stop resisting.”
Jazz rose up as her leg fell back to the ground. “Please, I need to go,” Jazz hollered out with a fearful shrill. “Please, I don’t belong here.”
“You got that right,” the man said forcefully. “You don’t belong here at all.” The man pulled her into the open. As the sun burned off the morning dew, Jazz noticed in the distance the vehicle was in fact a police unit. Another uniformed man stood near the vehicle holding what looked like a gun of some sort. The man who had gripped her arm ordered Jazz to her knees.
Jazz turned to look at the man behind her. “Please mister, you are making a mistake. I need to go, now!” Jazz tried to plead her case with tears, but the man’s stern face showed that he didn’t care as to what she had to say. “Please sir, I am begging you. You have to let me go.” But as she pleaded the man pushed on the back of her knees with his feet, trying to get her to adhere to his demands.
“You ain’t going anywhere but on your knees,” he said without emotion. “You need to get on your knees now!” he yelled.
Jazz looked up and closed her eyes. She needed just a moment to say a short prayer. It was only a brief moment before she reopened her eyes and turned once again to the man. Time seemed to slow down once again. Her teary eyes turned ice cold. Perhaps the officer would have let go then if he only knew what was about to come.
As her head turned to meet his, Jazz swung her body with force. First, with her right arm she yanked from the officer’s grasp and continued on with her left arm, continuing in a clockwise motion. As her body twisted to face the cop, he tried to readjust his grip only to be met with a swift kick to the mid-section as Jazz’s right leg made contact. The officer‘s body immediately flew to one side, nearly collapsing in the middle. Jazz came around with a closed left palm and belted the man across his face, lifting him off the ground and backward. His body fell back to the earth hard.
Jazz looked up to see the other man racing through the field in her direction with his gun drawn. Jazz knew she only had seconds to react. The other officer lied motionless on the ground. She looked back up and then turned toward the cabin. She knew she wouldn’t have time to grab her communicator before the other officer made it to the cabin; she only had seconds to react. She could have grabbed the gun off the downed man but she knew that wouldn’t be the answer.
Jazz turned to the woods. Her only chance for escape was to run. She dashed off toward the woods, not thinking about the direction, but only about the escape.
“Freeze!” Jazz heard the other officer cry out as she raced into the woods.
Branches smacking and wailing against her body, Jazz focused on her speed, trying to distance herself enough to avoid capture. If there was one thing she was good at, besides bringing down a 225-pound man with a simple twist, it was running. That was a prime rule with time jumpers – be good at what you do and be fast in case you are found.
Jazz was a good distance into the woods before she decided to come to a rest. She dropped her hands to her knees and tried to catch her breath. She reached herself back into the air and drew in a deep breath. As she stood peering back through the woods behind her, she began to feel the stings from the branches whipping her as she made her mad dash. Jazz searched over her body and found a few ripped areas in her attire, and a couple of abrasions, including one fairly deep cut on her arm.
She looked back up behind her. “Well this is lovely.”
Jazz tried to reflect on the situation. Without a communicator, now she had no concept of the time, and how soon it would be before the council would try to send for her. But also, she now realized that she may have pushed beyond the 2-mile boundary. Without the communicator, she had no way of knowing how far she had traveled.
Jazz paced in circles. “Now what do I do?”
Stay tuned next week for Chapter VI
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