Page 111 of A Stop in Time

“What the hell is that?” I mutter to myself.

It peels off easily, making me wonder how long it’s been there. When I withdraw it and flip it over, my lungs seize. It’s my handwriting, but it’s scrawled messily without any punctuation or capitalization, as though I wrote it in a rush.

don’t let your mind be fooled

don’t forget eleanor mackenzie

Don’t forget Eleanor? Who the hell is Eleanor, and how did I even know her?

My lungs seize in my chest. Holy shit. Eleanor was mentioned in Emilia’s file at the Human Resources building. The invisible guy mentioned her name, too. He said it’s up to one of us to fix this.

Pain slices through my head, and I stagger backward, my boots hitting a puddle of slick oil I’d meant to clean up. Flinging out my arms, I pinwheel, unable to catch my balance as I fall backward. My vision turns hazy when I hit the concrete floor.

Then everything goes dark.

* * *

The scent of burning flesh permeates the air. I’m shivering even while part of my body feels as though it’s been incinerated. The jostling of my body has nausea coiling in the pit of my stomach.

“There’s a good chance she won’t make it. Not with the extent of these burns.” A woman voices this, her tone laden with concern.

“She will survive this.” The man’s response, those simple words, are like granite. Hard. Unforgiving.

It takes monumental effort to lift my eyelids, and even then, they’re so heavy, it offers the barest fraction of vision.

I’m in the back of a vehicle—a repurposed ambulance, from the looks of it—that has dark-tinted windows on the sides and at the rear doors. Movement out these windows tells me we’re headed somewhere.

I give in to the weight of my eyelids, losing consciousness before something rouses me. The vehicle slows to go over speed bumps, and while a whimper of pain rumbles deep inside me, I don’t release it. It gets stifled by my brain’s automatic response.

A strange, unfamiliar voice whispers in the back of my mind to open my eyes, to observe as much as possible. I catch a glimpse of signs in passing, each with an arrow designating the direction of each location.

Commissary

Galley

MWR

It seems like we drive forever, passing nothing aside from dense rows of tall trees that border both sides of the road, no other buildings or cars in sight. Finally, we pass a sign that says US Government, Department of Special Projects.

The vehicle slows to a stop, and a beep sounds before the vehicle accelerates again. I almost miss the sign when the driver makes a sharp turn, but I’m able to catch a quick glimpse of it before we make another turn and it disappears from sight.

HelixCorp

My eyes fall shut as my lungs fight to fill with air but fail. It’s as though they’re collapsing in on themselves.

“Sir! Her vitals are plummeting!”

I’m dying. Finally. Relief floods me because somehow, I inherently know this is a good thing. No one else can hurt me, and I won’t be a monster anymore.

“Mac! Mac!” A panicked voice breaks through the haze of pain, dredging me up from the abyss of disturbing memories.

I blink my eyes open, struggling to focus, and see a young girl kneeling beside me. As if like some sort of rolodex, my brain cycles through before it clicks and I recognize her.

“Annalee.”

“Holy crap, you scared me to death!” Her eyes are wide, frantically scanning me. “I came out to tell you I was leavin’ for the day and found you like this.”

I bend at the waist, sitting up. In one fist, my fingers clutch something, but instinct tells me not to reveal it in front of anyone.